#thomas chapman the third

[deadpuppetboi]

Goretober Day 19: Field

Aunt Judy had given them instructions.

Very specific instructions.

Stacy and Ben Lamb hadn't expected this from their aunt, of course, hardly getting answers for themselves as usual. Having gone through the deplorable Hell that was within ‘The Dungeon’ they expected a proper answer as to why they were being targeted in the first place.

What was The Project?

Why was Aunt Judy here?

Why was she working with The Project?

Why did these sick people recognize them?

Who? What? When? Where? Why?

“Dr. Whyte will explain everything,” the older woman said in a hushed whisper to the children, giving them a note with a particular address written on it.

‘1899 Arthur Dr’

“Trust no one. Whoever you think can help you won't, they’ll only hurt you. Just go to this address and ask for Dr. Whyte, you’ll be safe there, I promise.”

She held the two in a hug as tight as steel, giving them each a kiss on their heads before moving them over to the exit.

“I don't have much time, they’ll find out you’re both here any moment, you both need to run, now.”

She hadn't even given them the chance to say goodbye.

Now, wherever the two had been on the other side of the city, completely differentiating the suburban life they were so used to. The dingy and trash-ridden shadows of the lively city they'd grown to love had cut them deep. And while they knew of its existence, they hadn't expected to ever travel to such corners, especially when it came to the address that was given to them by their Aunt Judy.

God, they hoped she was alright.

“Are we close?” Ben asked, turning his head over to look behind him, worrying gnawing at his brain.

“Maybe, I don't know, I don't recognize these streets,” Stacy replied, taking one more look at the map they had stolen to see where they were going.

They were completely lost, eyes trailing from one street to the next with anxiety eating them alive as they did. Anyone or anything could have gotten to them, any gang of any fraction of the city’s shadows would have gotten their hands on them by now. But they were lucky and with this string of luck, they kept on going, hoping that it stayed long enough until they could see Dr. Whyte.

“Is the street even real? We’ve been walking for hours now! Are we at the right block?” Ben spat, eager to get himself to rest so that the blisters on the heels of his feet could stop aching. Even with the seriousness of this situation, the teenager couldn't help but complain, which upset Stacy greatly.

“We are on the right block, Aunt Judy said we have to be here, we’re just not paying attention to notice where it's at!” Stacy retorted, huffing as she took another look around where she stood, poking her head out from the corner of a building to check the addresses once again.

She knew they were missing something.

But what?

Any important detail could have been the smallest incontinence. A damn rock on the side of the road could have been a clue. Or maybe a crushed paper thrown haphazardly next to a full trash can could have had the information they needed. Or God knows what it could be, Stacy wouldn't know, she was trying to survive with her little brother in tow.

The young woman felt a tap on her shoulder.

“Stacy,” Ben hushed, “Look!”

Stacy turned to her brother, noticing his hand raised and finger-pointing across the street. Looking over, Stacy noticed a chain-linked fence in between two barren buildings, ahead of it tall grass that reached up to their shoulders. She looked back at her brother, confused before he pointed again, more urgently.

“Over the grass, look at the sign.”

Stacy looked back, squinting her eyes slightly to look more closely before she saw the sign from afar.

‘1899 Arthur Dr’

The words were small but enough to be made out from a distance. And just beyond that a few more buildings, untouched and barren like the others surrounding the siblings.

Why hadn't she seen those before?

“It’s an open field,” Stacy muttered, turning her head over to her brother, obviously unsure if it was safe to go through such a thing.

It just seemed too empty even with the tall grass moving about in the calm breeze. It was a bright full moon tonight, it could only shine so bright and expose them right away if they were not too careful.

“It’s the only way, there are bridges over to the far left and right, they’ll be expecting us to get through that. There's the river up ahead too, the ground is too steep to walk on but there's a chance the water isn't too deep. If we hurry up they won't see if, if they do anyway, we’ll run.”

Stacy looked at Ben, looking away for a moment to think about the plan he had laid out. He seemed confident, planning it all out in his head, although there was a twinge of worry in his eyes. He had planned out escapes before and usually, they did work, but this was too risky.

“There has to be another way,” Stacy mumbled, looking over the map to figure out another way.

Ben shook his head.

“There is no other way, we have to get through them now and see Dr. Whyte. She’ll give us answers. Actual answers. We need those answers, Stacy, if we don't get any and keep running around we’ll be dead before the sun hits the horizon.”

Ben gripped his older sister’s shoulder, trying to give her a sense of security when her anxiety was taking her whole. These past few weeks were nothing but complete insanity with people they thought they could trust turning their backs and trying to turn them in a place they barely knew about. What information they did have was nothing but speculation and word of mouth from people they never knew and were eager to hurt them one way or another.

It was like one more bad thing could happen and they could impulsively cry out of instinct. Mainly Stacy, who throughout this entire process, had put so much stress on herself to be the leader that it took a toll on her mentally and physically.

“I’ll lead the way, okay?” Ben directed his sister’s attention towards him, hands over her shaking ones.

Stacy took a moment to breathe, taking deep breaths to calm herself down. After a few minutes, the young woman calmly folded the map, placed it in her shoulder bag, and kept herself calm and collected.

“Okay, let's go.”

Ben gave a nod and held his sister’s hand, moving over to the side of the building, he poked his head out to see if anyone was nearby. An empty street had greeted his vision by his right and his left, considering that, the teenager quickly ran across the street. Stacy was behind, keeping her grip on her brother tight, she made another look around to make sure they both weren't being followed.

Once in between the buildings across the street, the two made their way towards the wired fence. It was obvious it was run down of time and rust had collected at various parts. Placing their hands on the fence created a creaking sound that pierced their ears, making them cringe.

As Stacy made her way to climb over the fence, Ben stopped her.

“Hold on, look.”

He reached over to the bottom of the fence, gripping it harshly before he pulled it off, revealing an open space beneath. Stacy got herself down and crawled underneath as her brother held the fence up. Once on the other side, Ben quickly went down under, joining his sister and overlooking the field before them.

It had to be at least sixty yards across, not too big but not too small either.

Upon a closer look, the field only consisted of tall grass, the fibers sprouting at the very top and swaying side to side as if they were dancing. Stacy was right about her predictions earlier, they were as tall as her shoulders, and only her head would manage to poke through while Ben would be engulfed by them.

The two took a moment to assess their situation before they walked forward, heads straight to finally get to their destination.

“Why, isn't this a surprise?!” A cheerful voice boomed from the far left. “And here I thought my own comrade’s strange gift was starting to fall apart!”

That voice-

“I told you!” Another voice shouted. “My nose is never wrong! I told you!”

The children ran into the tall grass.

Stacy, now taking the lead, took on the splatter of the tall grass onto her face as Ben followed, blind as his height wasn't enough to see ahead of him. Quick to avoid the stray bullets, Stacy ducked her head, her ears catching the onslaught of voices from behind.

“Don’t let them cross the river, get them!” Thomas screamed, his team following his orders as they rushed into the tall grass.

Various footsteps shook the ground below, voices calling out to each other as they held their guns and searched all around for their targets.

The children ran faster than before, making a quick step to the left, right, and left again to avoid being captured. Even when they were wasting time running in a jagged pattern, they knew running in a straight line would only influence The Watchdogs to capture them much faster. The grass helped them hide but not for long, they needed to find a way to get to the other side and fast.

Ben sniffed his nose before Stacy covered his mouth, stopping momentarily to crouch down. They could still hear the footsteps and the men all around them, they scoured the premises yet failed to find them.

“Agent Nine, can you sniff them out?” Agent Forty-Seven asked, pushing past the grass to see if the children were in between them.

“Give me a second, dammit, I need time with this shit!” Agent Nine growled, sniffing aggressively in the air before angrily scratching at his nose afterward.

He then sneezed.

“Ah, don't tell me you have allergies, Agent Nine.” Thomas tufted, his voice condensing as he roamed the grass with his arms behind his back.

“I said give me a second, there's a process to all of this.” The man then pointed to the full moon causing the rest of the crew to groan.

“Here we go again,” a couple groaned.

“Don't tell me you still believe in that full moon bullshit, Nine,” another complained.

“You just don't get what I'm going through,” Agent Nine snapped, turning quickly where he stood where the children had seen a form of him near them.

Stacy and Ben quickly made the move to leave, crawling on their hands and feet to avoid the men as much as possible. With them arguing, it seemed like a genuine possibility that they could escape. They just needed to get through the river and they’d be just fine.

“Calm yourselves,” Thomas shouted, “Everyone stays calm, this is no time to fight when there are more important manners at hand!”

There was the sound of grumbling yet the children ignored them, anxiously crawling with their minds racing. They couldn't make too much noise nor could they talk to calm themselves down. They had to leave yet they couldn't make it too obvious. They were near the end, the very end of this field, and it was likely there was a gap from it towards the river.

Stacy ignored the talk of the gang behind her and her brother, feeling his side against her, they crawled as far as they could until they couldn't anymore. Their hands and knees were caked with dirt and mud, but thankfully no broken glass or trash like the city they had run through before. They were on their lucky streak again, and as soon as Stacy had poked her head out of the field and felt the fresh air brush her itchy face she felt a wave of hope course through her.

She looked from her left to her right before she crawled right out, now hearing The Watchdog's arguments from the far back. They were far enough, if they could get to the river in time without getting detected they could make it to the street. Ben followed along, finally in the open, he held his nose in a vice grip and tried not to sneeze.

Him and his damn allergies.

As Ben held himself back he pointed to the river, Stacy started to get herself up on her feet. She only made it until she was crouching, prompting her brother to do the same as she started to move along.

“We’re almost there,” she whispered and Ben gave a nod as he followed along.

They quietly kept at a slow pace, not looking back but forward to not give themselves another reason to freak out. One foot over the other, careful steps, and breathing calm yet quick, the two were getting closer to the river. They were near the edge when a new wave of confidence overwhelmed them as if they were finally getting the answers they were eager to get at last.

Ben made the move to go, careful not to fall, he stepped near the edge.

And then he heard the bang.

Nearly falling over himself, Ben turned his head toward the source, noticing one of the masked figures had been at the edge of the field. Gun in his hand, smoke billowed from the barrel, and a crazed look was in his eyes. Turning his head over, Ben checked to see if his sister was alright only to see her crumple to the ground. As if she had lost all movement in her legs, Stacy Lamb fell onto her back, shaking as her breathing turned labored and slightly erratic.

On her right thigh, a pool of blood started to form and soaked her jeans.

It was as if time stood still.

The world stopped spinning, the wind stopped blowing, the taunts of the gang were silent, and Ben ceased all bodily functions. His eyes water as he watches his sister’s once shocked face slowly twist into one of pain and suffering. She grabbed at her wound, opening her mouth and crying out accordingly, snapping Ben out of his haze.

The Watchdogs were catching up, the one who shot his sister had called out to the others, screaming at them to come as he finally got ‘one of them.’

Stacy started to choke out her words, adrenaline running through her system as she looked at her younger brother. She mouthed the words too slowly, her brain jumping from one warning to the other before she finally came to one clear enough so that Ben could understand.

“Jump.”

And Ben jumped.

Out of complete impulse, stupidity, anxiety, or just his survival instincts that made Ben jump into the river, he’ll never know. He just knew that his sister knew what she was saying, she was smart, really smart, and she wanted nothing more than to protect him than herself.

And Ben Lamb kept thinking that as his body was engulfed by the cold rushing waters below.

Stacy kept herself down, the pain forcing her to keep still as possible as even the smallest movement caused her immense pain. She heard various voices as well as the forms of masked men coming to the edge of the river, cursing to themselves as they couldn't see where her brother had gone. A part of her was grateful, thankful he took the jump before he could get caught, but that also meant she was the center of these men’s attention now.

Thomas had hit the back of one of the men’s heads, the one that had shot her.

“You said I could shoot and that's what I did,” the masked man defended himself, pointing his gun at the young woman.

“Yes, but angle it perfectly, you were reckless,” Thomas had crouched down to look at Stacy who flinched at his touch.

“Look, her artery was punctured, she'll be bleeding out in fifteen minutes! How careless you are, how careless indeed! Ms. Lamb, can you hear me? Are you feeling any kind of pain right now?”

A gloved hand brushed her hair back, revealing her sweaty forehead, from which Stacy snapped her head to the side. Her mind grew fuzzy all she could do was fumble with the words that stumbled out of her mouth.

“D—don’t touch—ch me,” she coughed out, breathing heavily before she cried out again, feeling her body get manhandled. Feeling dizzy, she closed her eyes, crying slightly as she felt her legs give out from under her.

“I’ll carry her,” Thomas snapped, careful not to cause any more excessive damage to the young man as he rushed to the van, “Search for the boy, I don't give a damn if you shoot him but make sure he doesn't die!”

As he ran, Stacy tried to push the man off of her, like she could build enough energy within her to get away from him, but she couldn't.

Thomas scoffed.

“Oh, don't you worry, we’ll have you right as rain before you know it,” he said as Stacy started to drift in and out of consciousness.

“Besides,” Stacy heard a heavy door start to open and her being carefully laid out on something cold.

She started to close her eyes before she snapped them back open, screaming once again as she felt a finger dig into her wound, preventing her from passing out. Thomas gave out a laugh, watching as the young woman grabbed at his wrist and tried to get him to stop only to be completely futile. He held her down, letting the blood soak his entire hand as he heard her whiny cries, anxious for her to hear what else he had to say.

“We have much to talk about.”

[90s-music-tourney]

All songs have been chosen for the 90s music tourney

Lithium by Nirvana

Rebel Girl by Bikini Kill

Ironic by Alanis Morrisette

She don't use Jelly by Flaming Lips

Iris by Goo Goo Dolls

What's Up by 4 non blondes

Peaches by Presidents of the United States

Criminal by Fiona Apple

Bitch by Meredith Brooks

Good Riddance (Time of your Life) by Green Day

… Baby One More Time by Britney Spears

Sober by TOOL

Breakfast at Tiffany's by Deep Blue Something

Wonderwall by Oasis

Love Fool by The Cardigans

baby got back by sir mix-a-lot

whatta man by salt n peppa

No Scrubs by TLC

Istanbul (Not Constantinople) by They Might Be Giants

Losing my Religion by REM

Fem in a Black Leather Jacket by Pansy Division

No Rain by Blind Melon

Friday I'm in Love by The Cure

Mr. Jones by Counting Crows

Californication by Red Hot Chili Peppers

Tubthumping by Chumbawamba

Zombie by Cranberries

Smooth By Santana Ft. Rob Thomas

One Week by Barenaked Ladies

Semi Charmed Life by Third Eye Blind

Kiss Me by Sixpence None the Richer

All Star by Smash Mouth

Buddy Holly by Weezer

My Heart Will Go On by Celine Dion

Genie in a Bottle By Christina Aguilera

Barbie Girl by Aqua

Spice up your life by Spice Girls

Steal My Sunshine By Len

Cannonball by the Breeders

Bittersweet Symphony by the Verve

What is Love By haddaway

Follow you down by Gin Blossom

Freedom by George Michael

Nothing Compares to You by Sinead o Connor

Around the World by Daft Punk

Laid by James

Possum Kingdom by Toadies

Flagpole Sitta by Harvey Danger

Only Happy When it Rains by Garbage

Bullet with Butterfly Wings by Smashing Pumpkins

Sunny Came Home by Shawn Colvin

Pepper by Butthole Surfers

Mother Mother by Tracy Bonham

Tim I wish you were born a girl by of Montreal

Voodoo by Godsmack

Mambo No. 5 by Lou Bega

Livin La Vida Loca by Ricky Martin

Just a Girl by No Doubt

Closer by Nine Inch Nails

California Live by Tupac

I will Always Love you by Whitney Houston

Give Me One Reason by Tracy Chapman

Good Day by Ice Cube

Gin and Juice by Snoop Dogg

Dragula by Rob Zombie

My Name is by Eminem

You Get What You Give by New Radicals

No Diggity by Blackstreet

Loser by Beck

pretty fly (for a white guy) by the offspring

What's my Age Again by Blink-182

I want it that way by the Backstreet Boys

Intergalactic By the Beastie Boys

Two Princes by Spin Doctor

Killing in the Name by Rage Against the Machine

Girls and Boys by Blur

Where is my mind by the Pixies

Closing Time by Semisonic

Creep by Radiohead

Say My Name by Destiny's Child

Jump Around by House of Pain

Check the Rhime by A Tribe Called Quest

November Rain by Guns n Roses

The Distance by CAKE

Every You, Every Me by Placebo

The Sign by Ace of Base

Vogue by Madonna

Don't Let Go (Love) by En Vogue

Mm Bop by Hansen

Believe By Cher

Mo Money, Mo Problems by Notorious BIG

Gold Soundz by Pavement

The Rain (Supa Dupa Fly) by Missy Elliot

Common People by Pulp

Doll Parts by Hole

Gangsta's Paradise by Coolio

[astoundingbeyondbelief]

Kaiju Week in Review (February 5-11, 2023)

Ted Thomas, the father of English dubbing in Hong Kong, passed away on November 26 last year at 93. A Briton who hopped from Naval intelligence to radio and television in the former colony, he founded Axis International in the 1960s and brought alone some of his coworkers for the ride. (The name was informal; as government employees, they weren't supposed to have side gigs.) The Axis troupe included Ron Oliphant (who also refined the scripts), Michael Kaye, Barry Haigh, Warren Rooke, Chris Hilton, Nick Kendall, John Wallace, Ian Wilson, Linda Masson, Mandy Cooke, and Angel Chapman.

Listing all their works would be nigh-impossible—so many have fallen through the cracks of history—but you can hear Thomas in The Secret of the Telegian (Police Inspector Kobayashi), Matango (Naoyuki Sakuta), Atragon (Captain Hachiro Jinguji and the High Priest of Mu), Dogora (Dr. Munakata), Gamera vs. Barugon (Kawajiri), Return of Daimajin (Genba Onikojima), Gamera vs. Gyaos (Tatsuemon Kanemaru), Godzilla vs. Gigan (Kubota and Godzilla himself), Godzilla vs. Megalon (Emperor Antonio), and Gamera Super Monster (the policeman and the narrator). If you're a fan of Shaw Brothers films, you've probably heard him in even more than that. He even went in front of the camera for Shaw's The Mighty Peking Man (above), playing a government official. With a resume like that, I can't help but associate his authoritative voice with toku dubs more than just about anyone else; I'd say Rik Thomas (no relation) and Andrea Kwan are the only ones in his weight class. Rest in peace.

Godzilla: Monster and Protectors - All Hail the King! concluded this week, with King Caesar giving Godzilla a helping hand against King Ghidorah, then briefly coming to blows with him as the tension between the kids psychically linked to them comes to a head. The pacing on these comics continues to be wonky, but artist Dan Schoening continues to show true Showa ambition with the fights. It ends on another sequel hook, which it had better get. (Maybe they'll tack on a third subtitle.) IDW's plans for Godzilla are mysterious right now; nothing is on the schedule except the next two Rivals issues. With the film series firing on all cylinders, I couldn't tell you what the holdup is.

Cleopatra Entertainment will be releasing Shin Ultraman to Blu-ray and DVD on June 13, while fellow MVD Entertainment label Epic Pictures will do the same with The Lake. The Shin Blu-ray will include the English dub, but no special features of note—disappointing but not surprising given how the U.S. home video releases for the live-action Attack on Titan films and Shin Godzilla went. The Lake is a Thai/Chinese giant monster flick with some seriously impressive practical effects. I've heard it's terrible aside from that, but whatever.

[duranduratulsa]

Here are this week's 90's Fest Amazon Music Preferred Artists...

1. Nirvana (5 appearances)

2. Red Hot Chili Peppers, The Notorious B.I.G., Green Day, Pearl Jam (4 appearances)

3. Whitney Houston, The Goo Goo Dolls, Savage Garden, TLC, Rob Thomas, Dr Dre (3 appearances)

4. Aqua, Guns N' Roses, Coolio, LV, Sinéad O'Connor, Ice Cube, Counting Crows, Shania Twain, Backstreet Boys, Warren G, Nate Dogg, Metallica, Tracy Chapman Online, Outkast, Vanilla Ice, Smash Mouth, Sixpence None The Richer, Soundgarden, House Of Pain, Faith Hill, Beastie Boys, Matchbox Twenty, 4 Non Blondes, The Proclaimers, Beck, Blackstreet, Queen Pen, Salt N Pepa, Collective Soul, Ms. Lauryn Hill (2 appearances)

5. Nine Inch Nails, Naughty By Nature, Usher, Mariah Carey, Santana, Alanis Morissette, The Cure, U2, Third Eye Blind, MASE, Puff Daddy, Weezer, Extreme, Bryan Adams, The Verve, The Fugees, Keith Sweat, Sir Mix-A-Lot, The Smashing Pumpkins, Chris Isaak, Oasis, Mark Morrison, Bell Biv DeVoe, Aerosmith, Sarah McLachlan, R.E.M., En Vogue, Blind Melon, No Doubt, Soul Asylum, Cypress Hill, SWV, Spice Girls, Tim McGraw, Tom Petty and The Heartbreakers, Paula Cole, Britney Spears, Barenaked Ladies, Snoop Dogg, Eagle-Eye Cherry, Dave Matthews Band, Destiny's Child, Korn, Sheryl Crow, Spin Doctors, Wilson Phillips, Queensrÿche, Lonestar, Meat Loaf, Ginuwine, Faith No More, Lenny Kravitz, Hootie and the Blowfish, Billy Ray Cyrus, George Michael, Sugar Ray, Jon Bon Jovi, NSYNC, Marcy Playground, Bone Thugs-N-Harmony, Shaggy (1 appearance)

#amazonmusic #amazon #90s #90sfest #durandurantulsas3rdannual90sfest #nirvana #RIPCurtCobain #redhotchilipeppers #notoriousbig #RIPNotoriousBIG #greenday #pearljam #whitneyhouston #RIPWhitneyHouston #googoodolls #savagegarden #tlc #RIPLeftEye #robthomas #drdre #aqua #gunsnroses #GNR #coolio #ripcoolio #LV #sineadoconnor #ripsineadoconnor #icecube #countingcrows #shaniatwain #backstreetboys #WarrenG #natedogg #metallica #tracychapman #outkast #vanillaice #smashmouth #sixpencenonethericher #soundgarden #RIPChrisCornell #houseofpain #faithhill #beastieboys #matchboxtwenty #matchbox20 #4nonblondes

[historyhermann]

A Sparkling Gem All Can Enjoy: The Uniqueness of "City of Ghosts"

On March 5, City of Ghosts, an animated series created by Elizabeth Ito, formerly a supervising director of Adventure Time, premiered on Netflix. This series was positively received for its pacing, humor, voice cast, and animation style. Even though it has been over a month since it premiered, the show continues to be relevant, tackling topics which expose uncomfortable truths about our society.

Reprinted from The Geekiary, my History Hermann WordPress blog, and Wayback Machine. This was second article I wrote for The Geekiary. It was originally published on May 26, 2021.

Set in Los Angeles, City of Ghosts is about four kids who are part of the Ghost Club: Zelda, Thomas, Eva, and Peter. All four travel across the city, interviewing ghosts about their lives, adding the recordings to something called the "Ectopedia." Beginning in the first episode, the Ghost Club meets at a branch of the Los Angeles Public Library, sitting under a table, discussing how to find the ghosts.

Each episode focuses on a part of Los Angeles not often talked about, part of what Wired calls a "multicultural mélange." This includes Jo, a Filipina chef who owns a café in Boyle Heights, Sonya, the owner of a vegan café who teaches children poetry in the evenings, and Yulissa, a teacher at a music school who is trying to teacher her kids Oaxacan music. The show, which is for those age 5 and up, proposes a new way of thinking about history, ethnicity, and cities, while remaining educational in an engaging way.

The series tackles cultural appropriation, gentrification, discrimination, and historical erasure, while remaining what some call a "lovely…vision for children’s entertainment" and a "gentle love letter" to L.A. itself. For example, in the third and fourth episodes, the Ghost Club learns about Leimert Park and the Indigenous people of L.A., the Tongva. In the latter case, there is discussion of colonization, extraction, development, and language erasure by White settlers of areas where the Tongva lived. The Ghost Club then expands their map of the city to include all the Indigenous names, while Jasper (voiced by Honor Calderon) connects with the land and their heritage, learning to speak Tonga in the process. Other episodes focus on skateboard culture, the horrors of Japanese incarceration in World War II, a marionette puppet theater, and a whistling ghost who speaks in Zapotec.

This "warm and huggable" series has subtle, but significant, LGBTQ representation. In the beginning of the second episode, Thomas, the artifact specialist of the Ghost Club, voiced by Blue Chapman, a transgender child actor, says they use they/them pronouns. In an interview with Vulture, Ito confirmed that Thomas is non-binary, saying she hoped to expand their story more in the future. She expressed her joy that Netflix was fine with Thomas being non-binary. She also revealed that some dialogue in the first episode were re-recorded so that fellow actors would be using the right pronouns for Thomas. Additionally, in the fourth episode, Jasper is shown with two moms.

Despite the diverse storytelling in this unique series, Ito has hinted that the show will not come back for a second season. She has written that people should not get their "hopes up for more City of Ghosts," and that her "well of motivation is running low." Even so, there has been calls on social media platforms, like Twitter, for the series to return, something which Ito supports. Whether Netflix picks up the series for a second season or not, it remains a sparkling gem that all can enjoy.

© 2021-2023 Burkely Hermann. All rights reserved.

[calxwallace]

THE FOOL

The Fool tarot card is the number 0 of the Major Arcana, which stands for unlimited potential. To see the Fool card generally indicates that you’re on the verge of an unexpected and exciting new adventure in your daily life. This may require you to take a blind leap of faith.There will be a rewarding experience that will contribute to your growth as a human being. The new adventure could be literal and may involve traveling to a new land or territories you’ve never visited.

STATISTICS

FULL NAME : Calliope Edith Wallace ALIAS : Cal, Cali AGE : 32 DATE  OF  BIRTH : March 25th, 1992 HOMETOWN : Detroit, MI, USA TIME IN EAST HAVEN : Since august 2010 RESIDENCE : Cresthill Meadows FACECLAIM : Elizabeth Lail

trigger warning: kidnapping, death by suicide, abandonment, abuse

EDUCATION : Medicine at Chapman University in Kismet Harbor OCCUPATION : Forensic Pathologist at KH Police Department. GENDER : Cis-Female PRONOUNS : She/her SEXUALITY : Pansexual. HAIR COLOUR : Blonde/Light brown EYE  COLOUR : Green HEIGHT : 5'8" BUILD : Slim. ACCENT : American. LANGUAGES : English, Latin (medical terms) TATTOOS : Butterfly tattoo on her neck SCENT: Dior ZODIAC : Aries LOVE LANGUAGE : Words of affirmation, physical touch. CLOTHING: High fitted jeans and shirts, mostly with text or logo's

CONDITIONS : None ALLERGIES : None EATING HABITS : Loves cooking so she takes her time to meal prep whenever she doesn't work. Always has a snack handy. EXERCISE HABITS : Pilates SLEEPING HABITS : Fast sleeper, snores a little, Likes sleeping on her back. Always cold. ADDICTIONS : None DRUG  USE : None. ALCOHOL USE : Yes

POSITIVE  TRAITS : Intelligent, adaptable, strongwilled. NEGATIVE TRAITS : resentful, stubborn, demanding PHOBIAS : Claustrophobic FEARS : Ending up alone. HOBBIES : clubbing, puzzles, cleaning HABITS : tapping her foot on the ground, biting her nails, picking on her clothes. USUAL DEMEANOUR: Happy

FATHER : Thomas Wallace MOTHER : Marilyn Wallace SIBLINGS : Giovanna Wallace, TBD Wallace RELATIONSHIPS: Molly Zhuang (2013-2016), Levi Steele-Hutchinson(2018-2020), Josiah Huddington (2020-2021) CHILDREN : None PETS : None

BIOGRAPHY

Calliope was born third into the Wallace household of what would eventually make the family be graced by three children, two girls and one boy. The family was existent of nothing but love and respect, creating a safe and warm household. Calliope could bury herself in the many books that the household contained, even if Calliope only liked the pictures at such a young age. She would make a pillow fortress under her father's desk or read in her big sister's bed.

Calliope was always a studious child. An inquisitive nature as soon as she was able to crawl around, much to the terror of her parents. She was friendly to whomever would come across her path, making a lot of friends from a very young age, despite the warnings of her parents about stranger danger. Yet if there is anything Calliope's life would prove to her, it's that it's the ones closest to you that betray you and let you down.

At the mere age of five, the Wallace household collapsed. Giovanna's kidnapping was followed by grim atmospheres. Calliope barely saw her parents smile anymore, instead crying as they kept giving interviews and statements about wanting their daughter back. Within a year, Calliope hadn't just lost her sister, but she had to watch how two coffins were lowered into the ground, as the guilt and remorse had been too much too handle for her parents to handle, leaving behind their other two children.

Calliope and her brother ended up with their aunt and uncle, who from the get go made it clear to the two that they weren't happy with their presence, as they wouldn't be able to live their life of traveling anymore and instead taking care of two brats they never even wanted to have. Their abuse was manageable at first, since Calliope had her brother. The shouting, the evenings without dinner, the smack on the heads and backs. Never the legs and arms. The two siblings held their heads down, focusing on school work playing with dolls with each other.

Calliope was too young at that time, unaware that her sister had escaped and that her aunt and uncle had refused to take her in and was instead cast away to a godmother of theirs. This was only relied to her later on by her brother when she was older. Calliope never really had an opinion. It had been her and her brother for so long, for the most of her recollection that she had her most important person with her. That all changed when her brother decided to run away from home when she was eleven, leaving her alone with her abusers. The punishment got worse. Involuntary haircuts, locking her up in the broom closet and being terrorised during the night so that she wouldn't get any sleep.

Her anger got her through it. The anger and hatred towards her 'caretakers' for how they treated her. Towards her brother for abandoning her, towards her parents for choosing the easy way out and leave behind their son and daughter to fend for themselves and to her sister, who was the cause for all of this. She endured, trying her best not to show her aunt and uncle that they were winning, that she was terrified of confined spaces, even trying as much as to appease her uncle who was the less terrible of the two, but this only angered her aunt, who at one point even shaved off the girl's head. Luckily for Calliope, this was prior to the summer break, so she wouldn't have to face the bullying of her classmates. At the end of the summer break, Calliope made a run for it. She grabbed whatever little she had and ran from the home she had grown up in for more years than she had spent in her parental home, fleeing to the house of her best friend.

Her best friend was raised by a single teen mother, who understood the reality of an abusive home and the knowledge that should it be reported, Calliope would be put in child protective services. The woman had threatened her aunt and uncle to receive the child support payments or else she would report them, but they had laughed in her face, knowing that she wouldn't pull through on her threat. The woman didn't have enough funds to spend extra's on her daughter's friend, which Calliope didn't expect. she would focus on her school, be given clothes to wear from her friend so she wouldn't have old rags to wear, walk paper rounds until she was old enough to have actual sidejobs, earning more money for her savings account. She focused on her studies, wanting to do what her father did, forensic pathology and honour him in that way. She was fierce on the soccer field, even earning her a scholarship come graduation. It was both her will and her rage that got her where she was. Persevering against a traumatic childhood that left its traces here and there.

Moving to Kismet Harbor for college was exciting. It was a new start for the woman, far away from her abusers and a chance for a clean slate. She felt whole among her peers, thriving in her soccer team where she functioned as the keeper. With the inheritance she received upon reaching the adult age, she was able to pay off some of her student loans, managing the rest with part time jobs cleaning at people's homes. It wasn't enough to pay it all off, but at least enough to let her live a life where she didn't have to live dime after dime.

Graduating out of college, Calliope was excited by the prospect of getting a job at the coroner's office straight out of school, moving into an apartment with her college best friend. Her personal life was good, so was her work life, Calliope was the life at parties and her love life was picking up as well. She had her heart broken, which added to her trust issues that made it harder for her to let someone in. She hadn't expected to find it in Josiah Huddington however. A police officer she often worked with and was friends with. Somehow the man had sneaked his way into her life, sending her heart all aflutter at the sight of him.

It was when Calliope learned her sister had come into town in 2021 that she was frightened of the prospect of him learning about her past, which she had kept close to her chest, aside from Riley, her college best friend. So she had broken up with him, breaking both their hearts in the process. Calliope managed to keep a distance to her sister in the meanwhile, not having run into her and create awkward moments. she's not ready to face her sister and dig up the hatred she had pushed down upon leaving Detroit, afraid that that would be the end of her bright personality that she had slowly rediscovered upon her freedom rediscovered at eighteen. That's a process she doesn't want to lose.

[youcouldmakealife]

The hobgoblins have it: David Chapman has not only been dethroned, he's been relegated to third.

I now crown Jared Matheson, gremlin extraordinaire, as the most relatable YCMAL protagonist.

(Full results below)

21% Jared

15% Gabe

12% David

11% Stephen

7% James

6% Thomas

4% Holden

3% Marc, Dan, Harry

2% Robbie, Georgie, Bryce, Mike, Roman, Joey

1% Andy, Luke, Ulf, Adam, Scratch

1 vote: Liam, Nikita, Jake

No votes: Derek, Anton, Evan

IDK Taylor, there's a lot of hobgoblin energy out here in your fandom

Alright, we're doing it.

Of the YCMAL mains, who do you most identify with?

The first time I did this poll (2015) David had 24% of the vote. Second time (2017)? 23%. Third time (2018)? 22%. Let us see if the intervening years have diminished his stranglehold.

[biglisbonnews]

Prospect House in Washington, D.C. Also known as Lingan-Templeman House, this historic residence is a late 18th-century freestanding Georgian mansion that once served as a guest house for visiting dignitaries and other guests of the president while the Blair House, which was usually used for such purposes, underwent renovations. The stately home was designed by architect William Thornton, who also designed the U.S. Capitol building. Visitors to the house included President John Adams, and Gilbert du Motier, the marquis de Lafayette. The property on which Prospect House stands was purchased by General James Maccubin Lingan in 1788. Lingan was one of the 19 original proprietors who signed the agreement for the establishment of the District of Columbia. It is believed that Prospect House was built during the five years that Lingan owned the property, which he sold in 1793 to John Templeman, a prominent Bostonian transplant and overseer of the construction of Georgetown Bridge, which spanned the Potomac River. The house remained in Templeman's family until 1858, when it was sold to Dr. Thomas T. Mann, who sold it to William Templeton a mere two years later. In the space of a year, Templeton added an "octagonal protuberance" and third story to the house before flipping it to Civil War General William H. Whiton. Other notable owners of the house include Secretary of Defense James Forrestal, Congressman Richard Thurmond Chapman and his wife Patricia Firestone Coyner, and David and Carol Ann Shapiro. The grounds feature gardens, a veranda, a gazebo, and a pool, and there is a remarkable U-shaped stairway that runs from the first floor through the third floor inside the house.  https://www.atlasobscura.com/places/prospect-house

[byneddiedingo]

Norah Baring, uncredited actress, and Herbert Marshall in Murder! (Alfred Hitchcock, 1930) Cast: Herbert Marshall, Norah Baring, Phyllis Konstam, Edward Chapman, Miles Mander, Esme Percy, Donald Calthrop, Esme V. Chaplin, Amy Brandon Thomas, Joynson Powell, S.J. Warmington, Marie Wright, Hannah Jones, Una O'Connor, R.E. Jeffrey. Screenplay: Alfred Hitchcock, Walter C. Mycroft, Alma Reville, based on a novel and play by Clemence Dane and Helen Simpson. Cinematography: Jack E. Cox. Art direction: John Mead. Hitchcock's third talkie, after the commercial success Blackmail (1929) and the comparative flop Juno and the Paycock (1930), is a solid start toward establishing his reputation as a master of the thriller, or in this case the murder-mystery subgenre. Hitchcock's direction of it is full of innovative touches: an opening sequence in which a scream is heard and the camera pans across a series of windows from which curious heads emerge; a neatly staged scene in which the investigation of the murder takes place in the wings of a theater, where people being interrogated sometimes interrupt their testimony to make their entrances; a scene that takes place in the jury room and lingers there as we overhear the sentence being delivered, with only a janitor tidying up in the actual frame; a voiceover by Herbert Marshall as we see his reflection in a mirror -- accomplished in those pre-dubbing days by playing a recording of Marshall speaking his lines. But frankly, Murder! is a bit of a mess, filled with improbable twists. For example, Marshall's character, Sir John Menier, an eminent actor-producer, winds up on the jury even though he has a prior acquaintance with the defendant, Diana Baring (Norah Baring). And somehow, even though he believes her to be innocent, he is bullied by the other jurors into voting guilty. He then turns detective to try to overturn the verdict. The motive for the murder is equally muddled: something to do with the fact that the murderer, who turns out to be a circus trapeze artist who performs in drag, is "half-caste" -- a secret that he is willing to kill in order to protect. But this muddle has its moments, such as the one in which the dignified Sir John spends the night in a house near the murder scene, to be awakened by the landlady (the always valuable Una O'Connor) and her gaggle of noisy kids. Better, tighter scripts were to come, but Hitchcock gives this one better than it deserves.

[nuraxxxx]

please end me

[writefasttalkevenfaster]

Dancing With Our Hands Tied (Part Two)

Series: Undercover Hotch fic/series™

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Reader 

Word Count: 4,408 | Rated: T | Warnings: swearing, discussion of domestic abuse, possibly compromising positions(?), an almost kiss

Tropes: bedsharing, fake married, mutual pining

Chapter Summary: after holding hotch's hand for a few minutes, it wouldn't be a problem to hold it for most of the morning? because now the retreat gimmicks begin as the two of you search for information while dealing with the events.

A/N: sorry for the delay on part two -- had some family things going on this month <3. look out for part three :) Thank you to @bucky-of-the-opera for always letting me bounce ideas off of her and generally being amazing.

“Where do we start?”

The retreat lodge was larger than you imagined — with sprawling grounds that weren't just limited to the main lodging area where the couples stayed — but extended beyond to woods, hiking trails, and beyond. Hell, you glanced out the window at a nearby mountain, you wouldn’t be surprised if they owned a mountain as well.

“I have no idea,” you murmur, your arm intertwined with Hotch’s, as the two of you stepped into the lobby for the patented mix-and-mingle with the other couples before breakfast. Not only mind-numbing, soul-churning mingling — but with other couples with marital issues -- exactly what every vacation needs, “this place doesn’t seem big on technology — I haven’t seen a single computer or cellphone,”

“The front desk only has paper logs,” he shakes his head, “I asked about the lack of technology in the rooms. A noted policy of no tech — including the employees. I don’t think we are even allowed our cellphones after this breakfast.”

You scan the couples beginning to shuffle down now, “If there’s no tech here, where do you think they keep their guest and employee files?”

“I don’t think breakfast is ready yet, sweetheart,” he replies, as your gaze snaps to his cheeks burning, as you realize a couple approaching your six, “but I’m sure you won’t have to wait too much longer,”

“I’m right there with you,” the husband winks at you, his stomach shaking as he laughs even before he jokes, “if I don’t eat soon, I’m going to lose one of my only reasons for coming to this place,”

And something tells you it isn’t much of a joke either.

“But not the reason for coming here, isn’t that right, dear?” his wife assumedly smiles at you, icily, “Molly Chapman. It’s a pleasure to meet you, and you are?”

You introduce yourself, forcing a straight face on as you manage to say your alias, offering your hand, “This is my husband, Thomas,” as Hotch introduces himself to Molly’s husband, Harry, who claps your boss on the shoulder.

“So,” Harry leans in, almost clandestinely, “what are you two in for?”

“Harry!” Molly chastises him, but her eyes hook onto your expressions, her lips pursed in disapproval if only to hide her smile.

“Well, if it helps, me and the missus here need some help communicating,” he crosses his arms, shaking his head, “never learned much about that growing up,” and he elbows Hotch, “but I’m sure you can relate — we’re practically in the same generation,” And you nearly snort, trying and failing to hide your smile — which Hotch notes, as you see him shoot a small glare your way.

Harry and Molly don’t notice, too busy reprimanding her husband again, before she sighs, pinching at the bridge of her nose, “It’s just as well, we are all going to find out about each other’s problems anyway,”

And you furrow your brow, “I saw group therapy on the itinerary — is it mandatory?”

“It is,” Molly nods, “Dr. Rosen, the therapist who helped design the program, insisted on it — otherwise it would just be a vacation, not a couples retreat,” and she raises an eyebrow, “didn’t you read that in the paperwork when you signed up?”

“I did most of the paperwork,” Hotch intercedes, his fingers intertwining with yours, “my love here was busy wrapping up some loose ends for work so I ended up taking the lead on it,”

“Oh well now I know what’s wrong with you two,” Harry chuckles, as Molly elbows him again, half-heartedly, as he gestures to you, coffee in hand, “you wear the pants in the relationship, got that one wrapped around your finger, now don’t you? Not surprising, with the age gap and all--” as he looks you up and down, winking at Hotch, as you gape at him, “nicely done, sir.”

Your blood begins to boil, several insults picked out and fine-tuned on your tongue as you open your mouth, “Well��”

“We’re working on it,” Hotch clears his throat, jerking his head toward the now ready breakfast buffet, “Harry, it looks like—”

“Food’s on!” and he’s scurrying away to the table, as his wife follows suit, giving both of you a nod, as you glare at his retreating back.

“Food fucking saved his life,” and your eyes slide back to Hotch, as he gestures for you to head over to the breakfast table, “and so did you,”

“Well, I figured you murdering someone on our first day here would attract some unwelcome attention,” he steers you away from the direction of the Chapmans, his hand now slipping around your waist, and you do your best to ignore the flip of your heart, focusing on the fancy finger foods the retreat put out for breakfast, until you feel Hotch’s fingers drum on the small of your back, “do you see that?”

You glance at him, following his gaze until your eyes fall on a door that says ‘Employees’ Only’ around the corner, the manager slipping through the door, locking it behind him. You glance away nonchalantly, helping yourself to some mini-breakfast sandwiches and some fruit, “Do you think they keep the employee files?”

“Maybe,” he breathes in your ear, as he reaches over your shoulder to grab some food, making you shiver at the closeness, “but how do we—”

“Welcome!” a voice booms from the foyer, sweeping arms as he steps forward cutting through the dining room, “Please everyone take a seat. Help yourself to some breakfast.”

You both make your way to a table, and Hotch pulls out your chair for you, giving a small smile, as he takes his seat beside you.

“I hope you all are beginning to get to know each other, but that is not all you will be getting to know today,” he clasps his hands, he bared his teeth with his fake white smile, “I am Richard Rosen, and I will be guiding you through your time during this six-week retreat, where you are not only going to learn about our facilities, about mindfulness, and about yourselves,” his eyes scan the crowd smiling, “you’re going to learn about each other.'

Oh, how wonderful.

You had read up about this guy last night — went to Harvard — Harvard College in Indiana, and got his certification in Psychology after four weeks of surely intense training. After that, he opened his own practice in New York City, which folded after several complaints ranging from sexual harassment to fraud. Unfortunately for his clients (and fortunately for him), there wasn’t enough evidence to get his lack-luster certification yanked. He then moved from city to city, learning from his mistakes, and never stuck to the same city for long enough for someone to catch onto his treatment packaged charade. Until eventually, he settled upon White Mountains Retreat, where he was allowed to stay in one place, but with a revolving door of patients.

He was one of your suspects — no record, but had easy access to the couples, and intimate knowledge of their relationships.

"But our time will begin together tomorrow,” he beams at all of you, “Right now, I'm going to pass it over to the man who you will be coordinating your incredibly list of daily activities during your stay here — the man responsible for all the wonderful memories you will make — Mr. Brock Hillen," Rosen steps aside, welcoming Hillen to take over, and he doesn’t wait a beat, checking his watch before disappearing down a hall.

“Where’d he go?” you murmur, and Hotch shakes his head.

“I don’t know,” Hotch murmurs, lips barely moving, “but do you see that?”

And you spot cuts on Brock’s arms before he tugs the sleeve of his shirt down to cover it, “Could be consistent with causing those injuries our victims,”

And Brock Hillen was no less suspicious than Rosen — with a criminal record to match. With two charges of domestic assault, Hillen already had a history of violence with his ex-wife, but since she divorced him, he has had no other charges. Yet, because of his record, he went job to job, until he found himself as the Activities Coordinator of White Mountain. Could it be that his rage over his wife leaving him led to the murders? Maybe something in the last few weeks that triggered it.

“Hello all!” he greets, holding his arms out, his fake blonde hair nearly blinding under the bright light of the chandelier that hangs above him, “thank you Richard, for that all too kind introduction,” he begins his spheal on the healing nature of the resort, the efforts of his team in coordinating the next six weeks for them, and you begin to lose interest around his third sentence with the word “enchant” in it.

And your eyes can’t help but slide to Hotch a moment, whose arm rests on your lower back still, the metal of his watch gently pressed against your shirt, and you swear his thumb brushes against your spine. You almost want to brush it away, his touch is so gentle, so sweet, so intentional, but it wasn’t — it wasn’t.

“For our first event,” and now you’re blinking back to Brock — to the reason you were here — to catch a killer, “I’m going to have you do one of the very things that Richard mentioned — an activity that will allow you to you learn more about yourselves and each other,” and he gestures around you, “as well as the grounds themselves,” Other employees start handing the couples a clipboard, “your task will be to get each of your stamps from around the retreat — this obviously includes our grounds and other facilities, including our spa, chapel, gardens, and so on.”

“Seems like a perfect opportunity to look around,” you murmur — as Hotch takes the clipboard, flipping through the scavenger hunt -- at least there wasn’t some cheesy shtick to this activity.

“To symbolize the journey you all will be embarking on together as couples, you must complete the task hand-in-hand,” Brock brings his two hands together, “please, there will be staff all over the facilities, if you need a hint, feel free to ask, and I will be here as well to provide any assistance,” he gestures to employees behind the couples, “now, at the sound of the gong—”

At the sound of the what—

And then a loud crash fills the air, rattling your eardrums, making you jump, “Take each other’s hand, and begin!”

Couples begin scattering about, pulling each other along — you spot Molly dragging Harry away from the breakfast table.

And Hotch rises beside you, offering you his hand, clipboard in his other hand, “Ready?”

You glance from him to his hand.

Probably not, but— your fingers intertwine with his, his calloused fingers warm, and the cool metal of his band brushing against your skin—

“Ready.”

What other choice did you have?

~~~

“How many more do we have?” So far, the first few stamps have taken you all around the other facilities — the spa, the garden, the sauna — but none inside the retreat center itself. Not a single one had given you a change to find where the files were kept in this place.

“Two more left,” he murmurs, “I assume the last one will take us back into the main building, so the other must be—”

“At the chapel,” you glance at the map of the place you were handed by an employee who took pity on you two after you had wandered around the grounds — completely lost, “at least we don’t have to bother figuring out the riddles now,”

“You mean you don’t need to bother,” you shake your head, “i’m sorry, I’m just—”

“Are you okay?” he asks, as the two of you stroll towards the chapel, everyone else out of earshot, “the first day can be—”

“No, it’s not that,” you look around the grounds, and you resist the urge to flex your fingers, but he notices you tense — and you know he would drop your hand but he can’t, so he steps away a little, “It’s not you—”

“But it’s you?” he chuckles, as you bite your lip, “I know it’s a lot,” he sighs, as you two reach the chapel, a relatively small building built on top of a hill. It’s a white marble building, its one spire splitting the sky above it asunder, practically gleaming in the sunlight. The double mahogany doors are drawn open for the couples, another just leaving as you two arrive. You watch him stare up at the chapel, “it is for me too.”

You frown, as the employees at the entrance greet you, and direct you to sit near the front together for a few minutes — to take solace in the quiet before you receive your stamp. Hotch hands them the clipboard as you both wander down the aisle together.

The aisles are lined with white pews, light streaming through beautiful stained glass windows. Your footsteps echoed against the stone floor. You step and sit into the pew beside Hotch, sitting back a moment. The chapel itself had no denomination — it was clear it was made for the sake of religious and non-religious functions — likely an intentional choice not to exclude any religion or atheists for that matter.

After all, money was money in their eyes.

You two are quiet a moment, your hands still interlaced for the sake of the employees still watching the two of you, “I think for me,” your voice low, “it’s just weird to be this close with anyone,”

“You mean physically or?” you shrug.

“It’s part of it — it has been a while since I’ve shared a bed with someone,” you purse your lips, “but like you said, it’s hard for me to let someone see me, like all of me,” and you glance at him, “and it’s hard when you’re literally the leader of a team of, you know.”

“I know,” he leans against the back of the pew, “it’s impossible to hide things from the team even when when we don’t spend every minute with them, and now that we’re spending the all of the next six weeks together--”

“There won’t be much we can do to hide,” you nod, looking down at the floor.

And that was what scared you the most.

The employees hand you back the clipboard at that moment, excusing you both back, and the two of you step out of the chapel, “I just want you to know,” you say, as the two of you reach the bottom of the hill, “you don’t have to hide anything from me,” and he raises an eyebrow, as you add, “if you don’t want to.”

“Do most people hide anything because they really want to?”

“No I meant,” you chew your lip, “This is probably hard for you, and I don’t want to act like I know what you’re going through — I don’t,” you would never deign to think you knew what it was like to lose your the love of your life, your best friend, and mother of your child in one fell swoop, “but you don’t have to pretend,” not with me, you want to add, but you don’t — you can’t.

He blinks a moment, eyebrows raising only for a millisecond, before he sighs, “It’s easier to pretend,” he presses his lips together, as another couple approaches, “and that’s what we’re here to do,” and he begins to walk forward, gently pulling you along, as your cheeks burn, your head fixed on the ground, until he adds, “but I appreciate it,” and you meet his gaze, several emotions in his eyes, before he tears it away, “thank you.”

You don’t get to respond, as the two of you step inside to find only most of the couples still hadn’t returned yet — still collecting the last of the stamps, and most of the staff floating around the grounds to corral and nudge stragglers along. And their absence left an opportunity.

So you glance around, before tugging a distracted Hotch along, wandering around a corner, “What—”

And you grab him by the shoulder, pinning him to the wall, cheeks burning all the while, not daring to meet his gaze, but its just the same because you hear the small gasp of your name that leaves his lips in a whisper, and his body tenses against your palm.

You lean up closer, before slowly craning your neck around the corner, “We’re a couple at a retreat looking to sneak away,” you murmur, lips barely moving, as you lean closer, nose brushing his neck — god he smells good — but you refuse to let your lips brush against his skin, “or that’s what it will look like to anyone.”

His tenseness melts away, and he’s pliable to your touch, as your fingers graze his neck now, your thumb resting against his cheek, as he stares down at you — so adoringly as you tug him by the shirt away from the wall, following you with such ease.

You’re next to the employees only door — your fingers reach for the knob, turning — “It’s locked,” you murmur, and his brow furrows, as you cup his cheek, guiding his gaze to the lock.

And he’s spinning you around gently so that you’re pressed to the wall, your breath catching in your throat, as he looms over you, his fingers cupping your chin. His arm around your back, pulling your lower half close to him, but he’s holding the door knob in place while he tries to pick it with his other hand.

Your cheeks burn as he looks down on you, his gaze freezing you in place, far too close — his breath warming your lips, taking the breath from your lungs and replacing your blood with lava. And you can see so clearly — the cut of his jaw, the soft lines of his face, and the curve of his lips—

And then the lock clicks open.

He’s turning the knob, as you spare one glance over your shoulder to see if anyone sees either of you, but then the door is shutting behind you. You feel the wall for a light switch, and you flick it on, while you hear the click of the door locking again.

And you blink, a glorified break room — a few tables and a basic refrigerator stuck in the corner, a worn couch stuck against a wall, and a sink stuck in the corner with a subpar dish rack — far from the accolades that were in each guest’s room — but then again, the employees weren’t paying through the nose for the rooms.

You two stay close, as your eyes scan for anything that could be a camera — even one that isn’t obvious — placed in a smoke detector or lamp shade, “No cameras,” he pulls away, and you try to swallow the lump in your throat, tucking away the embarrassment to dwell on another time (likely right before when you’re trying to sleep).

But then again, the guests weren’t the ones working 18 hour shifts on their feet.

Hotch calls for you, pointing towards a few file drawers stuck in the corner, and the two of you head over, running your finger down the label on the drawers, “These are all client records — administrative, financial — nothing on the employees.”

“They must keep the employee records somewhere else that employees don’t have access to,” and you’re rifling through the folders, for something — anything.

“I haven’t seen any other employee areas,” you shut the drawers, and then you glance around, your eyes falling on another door in the corner of the room — “unless—”

“It must be Rosen and Hillen’s offices,” you walk over, reading the placard — Administration Offices, “locked?”

“This isn’t something that can be picked easily,” Hotch shakes his head, “it has a bump guard — it prevents—”

“--lock bumping,” and Hotch looks over his shoulder, raising an eyebrow, “I’ll tell you my reason if you you tell me yours,

He snorts, “I learned it sometime between 6th grade and military school,” and it’s your turn to raise your eyebrows, “my father — he—”

“You don’t have to—” you shake your head, “unless you want to—”

“I’ll just say, it wasn’t a good childhood,” he raises to his feet.

And you can’t help but give a small smile, “But look at how well you turned out,” and he’s shaking his head, shrugging his shoulders, “Hotch,” you make him meet your gaze, “you’re a good man — don’t doubt that.”

His eyes meet yours again, warm, as he looks away to the floor for a moment, the corners of his lips twitching, “Thank you,” he breathes, and he’s stepping forward, “I—”

And then the doorknob is jiggling. Your heads snap to the door, before looking back to each other.

Shit.

Before you know it, his wrist is around yours, and he’s tugging you to the couch, as you fall backwards onto the soft cushions. He’s halfway kneeling between your legs, his body draped over you, and he’s leaning closer, murmuring an apology as he lips draw close to yours, “Hotch—”

And then the door is opening, as his lips nearly brush yours, “Hey!”

An employee stares at the both of you, as you both stumble to your feet, adjusting your clothes, “This is employees only — what are you—”

“Sorry!” you yelp, jumping to your feet, “so sorry,” and you brush past them, Hotch following at your heels.

And the two of you find your way back to the lobby, your heart still in your throat, as you tug on your clothes, “Thanks for the —” your cheeks burn, “I mean, good thinking—” you shake your head, "you know what I mean."

He snorts, his fingers finding yours again, giving them a slight squeeze, "Anytime," and your heart oh-so-helpfully skips a beat, tongue-tied, but luckily you don't have to response as Hotch glances at you, "you never did tell me how you learned about lock picking."

You shrug, “I have a checkered past,”

“That’s not much of an answer,” and you shoot him a half-smile.

“I have to keep you interested somehow don’t I?” you reply right as Brock begins to speak again.

The event wraps up with another talk from Brock — who has an employee approach him towards the end of his talk, whispering in his ear, and he nods, waving him off, “and one last thing — I know you all came to rejuvenate your marriages and partnerships through this retreat and we fully encourage you to do so but—” you swallow thickly, realizing just which employee must have whispered in his ear right then, “please refrain from doing so in restricted areas that are not for our guests.”

You cannot even bear to look at Hotch, keeping your gaze straight ahead, grabbing a drink on the tray, and sipping at it — and you wondered if you were masking your mortification well.

Probably fucking not.

~~~

Brock then adjourns them for the rest of the day — not wanting to “overwhelm them” on day one (or rather padding their time here with nothingness) — welcoming them to have their meal in the dining facilities or up in the rooms.

Most people head off to their rooms, while others linger in the lobby — chatting amongst themselves — he spots Harry rushing off to the dining facilities, his wife in tow.

The rest of the day goes off without much to-do. Hotch glances around — not a single thing of note learned about the guests or the staff. The other couples are all sociable to some extent — some more reserved than others, but none of them fit the unsub’s types so far — placing you two directly in the paths of the unsub.

By the time it’s time for bed, his body is aching for nothing but sleep — and it looked like you had the same idea. Already slipped under the covers, you’re curled up, half-asleep as your eyes flutter heavy with sleep.

Neither of you felt the need to stand guard in the room — the doors were securely locked for each of the couples, and the team was monitoring the situation at the local precinct. But you both kept your weapons close by — concealed in case someone happened to find their way in.

“Are you asleep?” Hotch whispers, and you mumble, shaking your head, turning to glance at him — your shoulders tense and brow furrowed.

“Is something going on?”

And he shakes his head, “No, sorry,” and you relax back in bed, but your lips still pursed, “I just hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable earlier,” and you tilt your head — and he almost smiles at your sleep-induced confusion.

“Earlier?” and then it floods back to you — as you blink, glancing away from him, “oh—”

He shakes his head, “I just don’t want you to think I was—”

“Hotch, I know you weren’t,” you slowly sit up, “if you hadn’t done that, I think we would have been on our way home on our first day,” you chuckle, “and I know you wouldn’t take advantage — especially when we have a job to do.”

Right, a job, he chides himself, It was a job.

“If you want to sleep—”

“I’m not having this conversation again,” you yawn, turning around and getting comfortable again, ��good night, Hotch.”

And he looks at you, a small sigh parting his lips — until he finally settles in bed beside you.

His arm resting across his forehead, he glances at you again. He had spent so much of today holding your hand, his fingers nearly flexing at the memory. It had been so long since he had held someone’s hand, so long since he had worn a ring on his finger, so long since he called someone his partner.

It felt so nice.

Nice — not only because he hadn’t realized how much he had missed having someone, someone beside him, someone there — but because —

Because it was you.

And he knew that because — he didn’t want to let go of your hand.

[90s-music-tourney]

The first round polls

Doll Parts by Hole - Mother Mother by Tracy Bonham

Californication by Red Hot Chili Peppers - Sober by TOOL

Rebel Girl by Bikini Kill - No Rain by Blind Melon

No Scrubs by TLC - She don't use Jelly by Flaming Lips

Semi Charmed Life by Third Eye Blind - California Living by Tupac

Mr. Jones by Counting Crows - Believe By Cher

Gangsta's Paradise - Steal My Sunshine By Len

Ironic by Alanis Morrisette - Mo Money, Mo Problems by Notorious BIG

Say My Name by Destiny's Child - Genie in a Bottle By Christina Aguilera

Around the World by Daft Punk - Breakfast at Tiffany's by Deep Blue Something

Intergalactic By the Beastie Boys - Creep by Radiohead

One Week by Barenaked Ladies - Smooth By Santana Ft. Rob Thomas

Spice up your life by Spice Girls - I want it that way by the Backstreet Boys

pretty fly (for a white guy) by the offspring - Vogue by Madonna

Don't Let Go (Love) by En Vogue - Jump Around by House of Pain

What is Love By haddaway - The Distance by CAKE

Good Riddance (Time of your Life) by Green Day - Dragula by Rob Zombie

Closing Time by Semisonic - Every You, Every Me by Placebo

Bitch by Meredith Brooks - The Rain (Supa Dupa Fly) by Missy Elliot

Tim I wish you were born a girl by of Montreal - Tubthumping by Chumbawamba

Voodoo by Godsmack - Possum Kingdom by Toadies

Losing my Religion by REM - Bullet with Butterfly Wings by Smashing Pumpkins

Fem in a Black Leather Jacket by Pansy Division - Buddy Holly by Weezer

Mambo No. 5 by Lou Bega - Livin La Vida Loca by Ricky Martin

Iris by Goo Goo Dolls - Just a Girl by No Doubt

Barbie Girl by Aqua - Cannonball by the Breeders

Only Happy When it Rains by Garbage - Criminal by Fiona Apple

The Sign by Ace of Base - Laid by James

Give Me One Reason by Tracy Chapman - No Diggity by Blackstreet

Good Day by Ice Cube - Kiss Me by Sixpence None the Richer

Where is my mind by the Pixies - Friday I'm in Love by The Cure

I will Always Love you by Whitney Houston - Peaches by Presidents of the United States

My Name is by Eminem - All Star by Smash Mouth

My Heart Will Go On by Celine Dion - Closer by Nine Inch Nails

Follow you down by Gin Blossom - You Get What You Give by New Radicals

Two Princes by Spin Doctor - Mm Bop by Hansen

Loser by Beck - … Baby One More Time by Britney Spears

Freedom by George Michael - Girls and Boys by Blur

Flagpole Sitta by Harvey Danger - What's Up by 4 non blondes

What's my Age Again by Blink-182 - Sunny Came Home by Shawn Colvin

Gin and Juice by Snoop Dogg - Bittersweet Symphony by the Verve

Lithium by Nirvana - Zombie by Cranberries

Common People by Pulp - Pepper by Butthole Surfers

Gold Soundz by Pavement - Istanbul (Not Constantinople) by They Might Be Giants

Killing in the Name by Rage Against the Machine - Nothing Compares to You by Sinead o Connor

Check the Rhime by A Tribe Called Quest - November Rain by Guns n Roses

baby got back by sir mix-a-lot - Wonderwall by Oasis

Love Fool by The Cardigans - whatta man by salt n peppa

[someonelookingpraediti]

📚 Mid-Year Freakout Tag 2022 📚

Copied from Mia @yourneighborhoodbibliophile

1. How many books have you read so far?

46! I've managed more in the first half of this year than all of last year!

2. What genres have you read?

I’ve pretty much just read Fantasy. I've read a couple of Romance, some Sci-Fi, and one Heist book!

3. Best book you’ve read so far in 2022

Favourites this year have been the Folk of the Air series by Holly Black, Pandora by Susan Stokes-Chapman, Cemetery Boys by Aiden Thomas, Portrait of a Thief by Grace D. Li, and the Skyward series by Brandon Sanderson!

4. Best sequel you’ve read so far in 2022

So far, the only sequels I've read have been when I've read the entire series in one hit. I'm awaiting a couple of sequels in the second half of the year, though.

5. New release you haven’t read yet, but want to

The Stardust Thief by Chelsea Abdullah, Ballad & Dagger by Daniel José Older, and Hotel Magnifique by Emily J. Taylor are the ones that immediately spring to mind. But the list never seems to stop, I buy books much faster than I can read them.

6. Most anticipated release for the second half of the year

Greywaren!! I've been putting off reading the Dreamer Trilogy until they're all out, but I'm planning on doing a full Raven Cycle re-read and then launching into the Dreamer books straight after. I'm also looking forward to The Lost Metal, which is the final book in Mistborn Era 2, but I'm definitely going to have to re-read those too, because I've forgotten the third book entirely.

7. Biggest disappointment

I've read some truly awful books this year. The biggest disappointment was definitely The Atlas Six by Olivie Blake. I was really looking forward to it, because it sounded perfect for me, but it was so badly written! Other books that didn't live up to the hype: Lore by Alexandra Bracken, and These Violent Delights by Chloe Gong.

8. Biggest surprise

Actually, The Cruel Prince!! I went into it really negatively, thinking it was going to be teen trash that I would hate, but it captivated me right from the start, and now I recommend it to everyone!

9. Underrated gems

Pandora by Susan Stokes-Chapman gets another shout out - I've seen hardly anyone talk about it, but I've been trying to get everyone I know to read it. Also, Tithe (and its sequels) by Holly Black. The Folk of the Air gets a lot of love, but the earlier books are just as good but get ignored.

10. Book that made you cry

The Queen of Nothing, The Invisible Life of Addie LaRue, Gallant, Cemetery Boys, probably like a dozen more.... I'm a crier!!

11. Book that made you happy

Half a Soul by Olivia Atwater! It's such a sweet, cutesy story, and sometimes it's nice to just fall in love.

12. Most beautiful book cover of a book you’ve read so far this year

Maybe Only a Monster by Vanessa Len. The UK cover is gorgeous. Honourable mentions to Pandora, King of Elfhame, and Skyward.

13. How are you doing with your year’s goals?

My goal this year is 72 books (6 per month) and I'm absolutely smashing it! Most months I've read more than six, so I'm well ahead of my target.

14. What books do you need to read by the end of the year?

These Hollow Vows, Ariadne, The King Must Die, Stalking Jack the Ripper, The King's Renegal, The Dark Tide, Heroes of Olympus, The Lost Metal, the Dreamer Trilogy, A Deadly Education, my full reading list is here and it is... lengthy.

[crime-she-wrote]

What is Criminal Profiling and how Jack The Ripper‘s case contributed to it

Hello and welcome back to Crime, She Wrote! In this post we’ll talk about two things that fascinate me: criminal profiling and the first criminal profile ever recorded. So buckle up, get your favourite beverage and join me in this little trip around criminology!

What is criminal profiling?

Criminal profiling is something that probably most people have heard of thanks to the rising in popularity of crime TV shows, movies and books. It’s safe to say that if you’re reading this, you’ve heard of Criminal Minds, The Silence of the Lambs or Mindhunter. But among all the fiction, what’s the truth? What’s the reality that everything has been based of?

Offender profiling, or criminal profiling, is an investigative technique used by law enforcement agents and psychologists to assist in determining whether offenses were committed by the same perpetrator and to help narrowing down the list of possible suspects by using available information about the crime and crime scene to create a psychological portrait of the perpetrator. As of now, there are several typologies of criminal profiling, such as crime scene analysis, investigative psychology, geographic profiling, diagnostic evaluation and linkage analysis.

What do those words mean?

Crime scene analysis is probably what most people associate offender profiling with: the analysis of a crime scene and inference of the offender’s characteristics from it. Although this is the most popular method of offender profiling and the one used by the FBI, there’s no clear scientific evidence that crime scene actions and offender characteristics can be directly linked without the interfefence of a third factor.

Investigative psychology is a field of applied psychology that attempts to describe and understand the behaviour of the offender, their thought process and psychological characteristics. This is an investigative technique that strays from traditional criminal investigation.

Geographic profiling is, as the name says, the profiling of the area on which the offender commits their crimes. The goal of this investigative tool is to find patterns on the geographical areas in which crimes were committed, narrow down areas where the offender could strike next and find areas of personal significance for the offender. Despite what fictional media might make you believe, this doesn’t necessarily mean the geographic profile tells us where the offender lives (although that’s not impossible), but it tries to link criminal activity to other activities not related to the crimes (such as home or work place, or recreational areas frequently visited by the offender). Geographic profiling works on the principle that 1) crimes are likely to occur near the offender’s home, 2) the offender and the victim must intersect for the crime to occur, 3) the offender tends to divert attentions from their own home although not travelling further away than necessary and 4) crime sites are not random. Although very helpful, geographic profiling is only an accurate tool when investigators have more than three crimes than can be connected to the same offender with no doubt.

Linkage analysis is the process of determining whether several crimes were committed by the same offender. Idealy, this is determined by the presence of DNA, fingerprints or fabric in the crime scenes. But when neither of these are present, investigators must use other ways to determined the facts. One way of doing this is by behaviour linkage analysis where the investigators attempt to link crimes based on the behaviours of the offender. They try to find patterns of behavioral stability and behavioral distinctiveness, aka, the offender must behave a similar way when commiting the crimes and those behaviours must be different form those exhibited by other offenders committing the same crimes. This is also known as the offender’s modus operandi.

Diagnostic evaluation is the attempt to relate psychiatry and psychology knowledge to criminology, thus explaining crime and criminal behaviour via a mental health and psichiatric diagnostic vision.

What does Jack The Ripper have to do with this?

Between April 1888 and February 1891 there were a series of murders around the Whitechapel district of London. The victims were women, typically prostitutes, in impoverished areas, who had their throats cut and their abdomens mutilated, including the removal of the uterus and other organs in most cases. All crimes were committed during the night. Although a total of 11 murders were investigated as being the Ripper’s, only 5 were and are widely accepted as being committed by the Ripper. These are known as the canonical five and consist of Mary Ann Nichols, Annie Chapman, Elizabeth Stride, Catherine Eddowes, and Mary Jane Kelly. The details of each murder are lengthy and well known so I won’t go over them much, but if you want to read more about them the wikipedia page on Jack the Ripper has it all available.

The investigation around the Whitechapel murders happened very much the same way modern investigations do: from interviewing of the community, to collecting of forensic material, and identification, investigation and even arrest of suspects. The investigation was conducted initially by Detective Inspectors Edmund Reid and Robert Anderson from the Metropolitan Police of Whitechapel Criminal Investigation Department, who later were joined by Detective Inspectors Frederick Abberline, Henry Moore, and Walter Andrews of the Scotland Yard.

It was in October 1888 that Robert Anderson asked police surgeon Thomas Bond his opinion regarding the murderer’s skill and anatomy knowledge. Bond’s response is the first criminal profile recorded in history.

Quoting Bond’s letter to Anderson,

 “1. All five murders were no doubt committed by the same hand. In the first four the throats appear to have been cut from left to right. In the last case owing to the extensive mutilation it is impossible to say in what direction the fatal cut was made, but arterial blood was found on the wall in splashes close to where the woman's head must have been lying.

2. All the circumstances surrounding the murders lead me to form the opinion that the women must have been lying down when murdered and in every case the throat was first cut.

3. In the four murders of which I have seen the notes only, I cannot form a very definite opinion as to the time that had elapsed between the murder and the discovering of the body.

4. In all the cases there appears to be no evidence of struggling and the attacks were probably so sudden and made in such a position that the women could neither resist nor cry out. In the Dorset Street case the corner of the sheet to the right of the woman's head was much cut and saturated with blood, indicating that the face may have been covered with the sheet at the time of the attack.

5. In the four first cases the murderer must have attacked from the right side of the victim. In the Dorset Street case, he must have attacked from in front or from the left, as there would be no room for him between the wall and the part of the bed on which the woman was lying. Again, the blood had flowed down on the right side of the woman and spurted on to the wall.

6. The murderer would not necessarily be splashed or deluged with blood, but his hands' and arms must have been covered and parts of his clothing must certainly have been smeared with blood.

7. The mutilations in each case excepting the Berner's Street one were all of the same character and shewed clearly that in all the murders, the object was mutilation.

8. In each case the mutilation was inflicted by a person who had no scientific nor anatomical knowledge. In my opinion he does not even possess the technical knowledge of a butcher or horse slaughterer or any person accustomed to cut up dead animals.

9. The instrument must have been a strong knife at least six inches long, very sharp, pointed at the top and about an inch in width. It may have been a clasp knife, a butcher's knife or a surgeon's knife. I think it was no doubt a straight knife.

10. The murderer must have been a man of physical strength and of great coolness and daring. There is no evidence that he had an accomplice. He must in my opinion be a man subject to periodical attacks of Homicidal and erotic mania. The character of the mutilations indicate that the man may be in a condition sexually, that may be called satyriasis. It is of course possible that the Homicidal impulse may have developed from a revengeful or brooding condition of the mind, or that Religious Mania may have been the original disease, but I do not think either hypothesis is likely. The murderer in external appearance is quite likely to be a quiet inoffensive looking man probably middleaged and neatly and respectably dressed. I think he must be in the habit of wearing a cloak or overcoat or he could hardly have escaped notice in the streets if the blood on his hands or clothes were visible.

11. Assuming the murderer to be such a person as I have just described he would probably be solitary and eccentric in his habits, also he is most likely to be a man without regular occupation, but with some small income or pension. He is possibly living among respectable persons who have some knowledge of his character and habits and who may have grounds for suspicion that he is not quite right in his mind at times. Such persons would probably be unwilling to communicate suspicions to the Police for fear of trouble or notoriety, whereas if there were a prospect of reward it might overcome their scruples.”

In summary, Bond mentioned the sexual nature of the murders and gives an analysis of the Ripper’s personality by analysing the available information and reconstucting the murders.

This analysis contains elements previously mentioned of offender profiling: we have the crime scene analysis, where Bond infers the position and behaviour of both victim and offender; investigative psychology, where he attempts to infer psychological traits to explain and understand the Ripper’s behaviour; linkage analysis where he uses the available information to determine whether the crimes were committed by the same offender or not; and diagnostic evaluation, where Bond attempts to explain the behaviour of the Ripper through various psychiatric diagnostics.

However...

Although offender profiling is indeed a scientific field within criminology and psychology, many theories are yet to be proven correct. Offender profiling depends on two things: behavioral consistency and homology. This means that for all typologies of offender profiling to be 100% accurate, an offender’s behaviour must be the same throughout different environments and occasions and throughout time (behaviour consistency) and similar crimes must always be committed by the same type of offenders (homology). Although this has been proved correct in the cases of sexual crimes, other types of crimes are yet to obtain the same results in research. This means that offender profiling is, indeed, useful and helpful to police investigations but it should be treated with caution as it cannot be used as a single one tool to solve a case or find a perpetrator.

Thank you!

If you read this far, thank you for sticking around! Likes and reblogs are highly appreciated, and if you like what you see please consider following! Let me know what kind of content, scientific research, cases or theories you’d like to see here by dropping suggestions on the ask box!

See you next post!

[duranduratulsa]

Here are this week's Amazon Music Preferred Artists...

1. Red Hot Chili Peppers, Green Day, Nirvana (5 appearances)

2. Dr Dre, TLC, The Notorious B.I.G., Pearl Jam, Rob Thomas, Goo Goo Dolls (4 appearances)

3. SmashMouth, Backstreet Boys, 4 Non Blondes, Aqua, Coolio, LV, The Smashing Pumpkins, Warren G, Nate Dogg, Oasis, Vanilla Ice, Metallica, Ice Cube, Faith Hill, Puff Daddy (3 appearances)

4. Soundgarden, The Proclaimers, Counting Crows, Bone Thugs-N-Harmony, Britney Spears, Snoop Dogg, Aerosmith, Third Eye Blind, Extreme, Beck, Weezer, Ginuwine, 2PAC, Blind Melon, Sir Mix-A-Lot, Tim McGraw, Beastie Boys, Blackstreet, Queen Pen, Bryan Adams, Matchbox Twenty, Marcy Playground, Collective Soul, Spice Girls, R.E.M., Sinéad O'Connor, Boyz II Men, Tracy Chapman Online, Santana, Tom Petty & The Heartbreakers, Cypress Hill, Fugees, Mark Morrison, No Doubt, The Verve Pipe (2 appearances)

5. Salt N Pepa, BellBivDeVoe, SWV, Deee-Lite Alanis Morissette, Digital Underground, Alice in Chains, Seal, Wilson Phillips Guns N' Roses, MASE, Montell Jordan, Nine Inch Nails, Sixpence None The Richer, Savage Garden, Barenaked Ladies, Dave Matthews Band, Color Me Badd, The Cure, Ricky Martin, Destiny's Child, Michael Jackson, Whitney Houston, Jewel, Shaggy, House of Pain, Scorpions, Faith No More, Soul Asylum, George Michael, Usher, Billy Ray Cyrus, Next, N2Deep, Eagle-Eye Cherry, KORN, Len, Live, Skee-Lo, The Verve, Sugar Ray, Eminem (1 appearance)

#amazonmusic #amazon #90s #90sfest #durandurantulsas3rdannual90sfest #redhotchilipeppers #greenday #nirvana #RIPCurtCobain #drdre #TLC #notoriousbig #pearljam #robthomas #googoodolls #smashmouth #ripsteveharwell #backstreetboys #4nonblondes #aqua #coolio #ripcoolio #LV #smashingpumpkins #WarrenG #natedogg #Oasis #vanillaice #metallica #icecube #faithhill #puffdaddy #RIPNotoriousBIG #soundgarden #RIPChrisCornell #theproclaimers #countingcrows #bonethugsnharmony #britneyspears #snoopdogg #Aerosmith #thirdeyeblind

[sineala]

The gay Invaders

Hi, internet! Today I'd like to talk about one of the chronologically-first canonically-gay couples in Marvel Comics history: Brian Falsworth (the second Union Jack) and Roger Aubrey (The Destroyer). (I mean "chronological" in terms of in-universe timeline rather than RL publication date; I'm pretty sure Northstar is still the first to publication as far as unambiguously-gay Marvel heroes go.)

If you are a fan of reading or writing about Captain America being queer, you should care about Brian and Roger, because they were two of Steve's fellow Invaders in the 1940s, meaning that they are two of the people on the list of Steve's Old Gay Friends And Teammates, because, yeah, Steve sure had a lot of canonically gay friends during the war. Probably more than you'd think he would have had in the forties! (The other two are Percival Pinkerton, who's part of Nick Fury's Howling Commandos, and of course Steve's childhood friend Arnie Roth. Pinky is gay by word of Stan Lee, IIRC; Arnie was as canonically gay as DeMatteis could make him in the early 1980s, so they didn't say the word "gay" but it's really, really not subtle. Steve compares what Arnie feels for his "roommate" Michael to what Steve feels for his girlfriend Bernie. Yeah.)

I previously made a Tumblr post about Brian and Roger, rounding up some of the canonical evidence of their relationship, but that post is six years old now, and in the intervening years, Marvel has thoughtfully put the rest of the 70s Invaders run on Unlimited as well as the two Citizen V miniseries that star Roger and retcon his relationship with Brian as romantic. So I've read them now, and I've got panels.

Okay. I should probably begin by saying that Brian and Roger are not canonically gay in their first significant appearance together, which is in Invaders vol 1 #19 and #20, published in 1977. Roy Thomas does not seem to have intended them to be a couple, and they aren't canonically one in any of the original Invaders run. However, if you enjoy gay subtext, it's very nice.

This whole arc is the one that introduces Roger in modern canon. He's been brainwashed by the Nazis and the Invaders rescue him and get him back to his normal self. But in #19 we get his backstory in flashback, as related by Montgomery, Lord Falsworth (Brian's father; yes, MCU fans, the name should look familiar) and it turns out that Roger and Brian were basically best friends since childhood:

They were the dearest of friends!

Anyway, they both ended up captured by Nazis, they presumably changed their minds about appeasement as a policy, Brian got out and joined the Invaders, then they had to rescue the brainwashed Roger, and it's a fair amount of fun in a two-issue arc.

The subtext is even more prominent in Invaders #34, in which they find out that someone going by the Destroyer (which is Roger's codename) has been doing villainous deeds, and the Invaders worry that Roger's gotten himself brainwashed again. Brian immediately insists that it can't really be Roger because he knows Roger and Roger Would Never:

Unsurprisingly, Brian is right. It's not really Roger; Master Man is impersonating the Destroyer, and the villains have taken Roger captive, and the Invaders break him out and there is an extremely significant moment where it just so happens that Roger has to catch Brian, saving his life for a change, and they stare deeply into each other's eyes and Brian seems to be having difficulty finishing his sentences:

Some people who read this therefore concluded that Brian and Roger were extremely gay for each other. While ordinarily this sort of shipping is mostly confined to fandom, in this particular instance, one of the people who started shipping Brian/Roger was Fabian Nicieza, and Fabian Nicieza, as you probably know, writes comics for Marvel. I think you see where this is going.

However, first I must inform you that, sadly, Brian has been canonically dead for years. Captain America vol 1 #253-254 -- the two-parter about Baron Blood in the Stern/Byrne Cap run in the 80s -- establishes that Brian died in a car accident in 1953. (This is also the run where Joseph Chapman -- a friend of Jacqueline Falsworth's son Kenneth -- becomes the third (and current) Union Jack.)

(Roger then appears in a bunch of T-Bolts issues; I assume there's nothing interesting there on the gay front because I feel like someone would have told me. I should probably read more than three T-Bolts issues someday.)

So, anyway, in 2001, Fabian Nicieza wrote a miniseries called Citizen V and the V-Battalion. Roger, who is still superheroing as the Destroyer despite being pretty old by this point, is part of the titular V-Battalion, and he has a very prominent role in this miniseries. And in #1, we have the usual splash page of character backstory, and there's a very, um, interesting line there:

Regarding Brian and Roger's relationship, the narration informs us: "It sounds much gayer than it probably was."

This is interesting, obviously for a couple of reasons. One is that, up to this point in canon, as far as I can tell, literally nobody thought any of this sounded the slightest bit gay at all. (Other than, I guess, Fabian Nicieza.) The other reason is that, as we soon find out, it actually was as gay as it sounds. Thanks, Fabian!

In 2002, Nicieza wrote a second miniseries, Citizen V and the V-Battalion: The Everlasting. Issue #1 opens with a flashback set in 1953; specifically, we see Brian's funeral:

Roger is extremely sad, and when Lord Falsworth expresses his sympathy about the death of Roger's "friend" and saying that he knows how much this hurts him, Roger mutters under his breath that he doesn't have the slightest clue:

All is revealed on the next page, when one of the other characters tries to ask Roger about superhero business and Roger snaps at him because, as he says, "I just watched my friend die in my arms."

Except "friend" isn't the word he starts to say:

Yep. That would be "lover." So Roger nearly outs himself. So, yes, now it's absolutely canon. Hooray.

Later on in the issue, which is set in the present day, we have a couple pages of Roger staring at pictures of the two of them and continuing to be sad:

Yeah. They were a couple.

So the question you -- being a Captain America fan -- might ask yourself is, okay, did/does Steve know about any of this? (The reason I started looking all this up was because I wanted to know if Steve knew.) I don't know if we have a panel of Roger specifically admitting any of this to Steve (and if we do, I would like to know about it), but I would be comfortable saying that Steve probably knew back then -- because, well, he seems like the kind of guy who would actually have been fine with it in the 40s, what with all his gay friends -- and also that I can't think of a reason why he wouldn't know now. Because he's definitely worked with Roger again in fairly recent comics, and also Roger is very much out, these days.

In fact, New Invaders #4 (2004) opens with Roger attending Pride:

So, yeah, he's out.

(Then he has to fight, as far as I can tell, homophobic Nazi vampires. They're yelling slurs in German. Great.)

In All-New Invaders #10, which is from 2014 (and which is not the same series as New Invaders), Roger shows up to help out the Invaders, and in passing, he just happens to mention to another character (Joseph Chapman, the current Union Jack), that he is in fact gay:

He and Joseph don't really like each other much; as far as I can tell, their acquaintance in New Invaders consists of Joseph being vaguely homophobic and Roger being bitter about him being Union Jack because he actually wanted to be Union Jack himself to honor Brian's memory -- you know, that thing superheroes sometimes like to do to honor their dead superhero significant others, viz. Hank when Jan was dead after Secret Invasion -- and now Union Jack is this annoying kid and not, y'know, the love of his life. This exchange from New Invaders #4 seems pretty representative of their relationship:

Anyway, yeah, he's pretty obviously out.

Steve isn't actually present for this conversation in All-New Invaders, but he mentions in a later issue of this run that he knows what Roger and his pals have been up to, plot-wise, so I feel comfortable assuming that he's talked to Roger at some point in the previous ten years or so, and therefore, since Roger is completely out at this point in canon, there's no reason Steve shouldn't know now.

On an unrelated note, it's also a fun issue if you're a Steve/Tony fan because this is clearly running in parallel with Hickman's Avengers run, which means that he spends half a page telling Namor that he's mad at him and the rest of the Illuminati (but mostly mad at Tony because... he's just obsessed with Tony in this run, I guess?) about the mindwipe:

This is the sum total of my knowledge about Brian and Roger. No, wait, I know one more thing, which is that Brian was a character in the late, lamented mobile game Avengers Academy, in which he was also actually gay; Roger does not seem to have been there. There's a CBR article that you can read about the whole thing, which mentions some of these details from the comics in passing. (I have no idea why it says that their relationship was alluded to in the Stern/Byrne run; unless I missed something big, the only thing those issues do is establish Brian's death. As far as I can tell, no one is gay in them.)

So, yeah, that's Brian Falsworth and Roger Aubrey, the two gay Invaders. Steve sure has a lot of gay friends.