#watch & this is a home invasion & the police look at this post in the investigation after I die 😭

[juniperhillpatient]

as someone who very much believes in the supernatural & believes I’ve had countless experiences with it I have a love hate relationship with those experiences that are like. either I’m actually losing it like actually hallucinating/delusional or that just happened because it’s like. i find it interesting & exciting but also if I ever want to talk about it people either think I’m crazy or lying & it’s like. well . I literally might be crazy? I don’t know what to tell you I’ve been having these experiences semi frequently since I was a kid either I’m legitimately mentally ill in some undiagnosed way (which feels unlikely to me if I’m being honest given my many years in & out of therapy & the fact that these encounters have never impacted my life in a negative way) or I’m very sensitive to spiritual encounters & at a certain point those are literally the only two options in my mind

[rainrot4me]

Steam Roller | Chapter 2

Summary: After tracking you down, Jeffrey’s obsession for your attitude leads him to give you a little surprise visit.

Characters: Jeffrey Woods x Female Reader

SMUT WARNING MINORS DNI

TW: Stalking, home invasion, non-con elements, shower sex, grinding, power struggle, dirty talk, vaginal, domination, begging, overstimulation

Words: 3.6k

This is a continuation, see chapter one here.

Police swarmed the woods in the days following. 

Annoying investigators rummaged through the gory evidence but were left unsatisfied when they could find no trace of any suspect. Jeffrey was careful, not leaving anything that could trace him or any other creeps into a heap of trouble. Slender was still cautious, sending Jeff and Toby out to hang to the tree line, making sure the investigators didn’t get too ballsy. 

Jeffrey sighed, knicking the blade of his knife against a fallen log as Toby sat perched against a larger tree. They were plum shit bored. The round of police shuffling through the discarded tents as a couple of guys in bio-hazard suits shuffled the mangled bodies into body bags. The boys rested several meters away, concealed by the early-morning shadows. Jeff stabbed the tip of his knife into the rotted log, letting out an annoyed huff.

“These dipshits aren’t going anywhere. I don’t know why the fucking guy makes us stand guard like they’re smart enough to find us out anyways.” Jeffrey groaned, shoving his hands into his pockets and glaring at Toby, half asleep. Jeff grimaced, kicking some dead leaves up in Toby’s direction, stirring him out of his nap. “He- hey, fuck o- off man,” Toby groaned, brushing the leaves off of his jacket. “Not my fa- fault you got hor- horny and let some g- girl go.”

Jeff rolled his eyes, tsking as he turned to face the gaggle of cops again. After his post-nut clarity last night, Jeffrey mentally slapped himself for taking advantage of the situation and letting you go. When police cars entered the woods early the next morning, the mansion’s residents quickly found out about Jeffrey’s slip up, Toby being the first to whoop his ass about it. Why hadn’t he killed you after he was finished? You were cute, but cute enough to risk his ass against Slender? He didn’t know what caused him to trust his dick over his brain.

Jeffrey huffed, running his hand through his tangled hair. He glared at the scene again, eyes shooting wide when he realized two men in suits were sauntering over in their direction. “Shit! Toby, hide!” He hissed, snatching his knife out of the log before scaling a nearby tree. He hoisted himself onto a thicker branch, using the leaves to conceal himself as he watched Toby scramble into a group of hedges nearby. Jeff held his breath, watching as the investigators walked closer, stopping right under the tree Jeff rested in. Perfect. One rummaged in his pocket, pulling out a pack of cigarettes and handing his partner one before taking one for himself. Jeff cursed himself, praying one of them didn’t look up during their supposed smoke break.

“Jesus it reeks over there.” The taller one groaned, lighting the end of his cigarette before sucking in deeply and releasing a cloud of smoke. The shorter one lit his as well, shoving his hand in his pocket as he pulled out his phone. “No reception either. Who camps out in the middle of bum-fuck nowhere?” He huffed, shoving his phone back into his pocket before taking a drag of his cigarette. “Beats me, but I know that kid won’t be camping for a good while.” They both chuckled, stiffly kicking in the dead leaves around them.

Jeff groaned to himself, their corny remarks leaving a bad taste in his mouth.

“You ever got an update on her? What’s ‘er name, [Y/N]?” The shorter man asked, huffing more smoke into the air. Jeff leaned forward, furrowing his brows. “[Y/N] [Y/L/N]. Well, after she stumbled into the station looking half stir-crazy, some guys ran her to the hospital and she checked out this morning. She wasn’t hurt or nothin’ but definitely shaken up. Poor thing.” The taller one sighed, tossing his stubby cig and stomping it out. “Shit… you think we’ll find the guy who did this?” He stomped out his as well. “Hell no. No clue where to even start and the chief is ready to pack up and go home anyway. I call same.” At that, both the men groaned and sauntered back over to the shuffle of cops and hazmat shit.

Jeff let out a deep breath, hopping down from the tree as Toby emerged from his brush. Toby rolled his eyes at Jeff, taking his spot back against the tree. “And she got aw- away. Du- dumbass,” he scoffed. Jeff brushed the branches off of his sweatshirt, shoving his hands back into his pockets as he turned to walk to the mansion. “Pack it up, twitch,” he huffed. “I’ve got it covered, just sit here till they leave.” Toby rolled his eyes.

Jeff smiled to himself. He’s got you now.

-

“Give me your laptop.” Jeff chopped, blocking Ben’s view of his match of mario kart. Ben paused the game, raising an eyebrow at Jeff. “For..?” Jeff rolled his eyes, impatient. “Porn. Now hand it over.” Ben scoffed, pulling up the couch cushion and rummaging a crusty laptop before handing it to Jeff. “Don’t break it,” Ben called to Jeff as he walked away, resuming his game.

Jeff sat down on his bed, opening the laptop and clicking on the search bar. He started by searching your name, opening social media pages, LinkedIn forums, and anything he could find about you. He eventually stumbled on a mini-news link reporting on the events of last night. Shit, the news worked fast. Jeff scrolled through the short article, recounting the events of last night until he found a serious lack of any mention of him. No reports of a description of him or any specific actions. The article mentioned your name loud and clear, a short interview retelling how you were too in shock to see any specific details about the killer. Bullshit. He was tongue-deep inside of you.

Jeff sat back, rubbing the back of his neck as he scanned your LinkedIn account once again, mentally jotting down your address before shutting the laptop. He needed to get rid of you before your good conscience slipped and you decided to play hero. He lifted his hood over his head, heading down and through the doors of the mansion as he set off to find you.

-

Your house wasn’t anything to gawk at. A little mini-home at the end of a wooded culdesac road. There weren’t any houses near you, which made it easier than ever for Jeff to just saunter right up to a window, warm light emitting from a lamp nearby. He peeked in, a cozy living room sitting empty. He moved around the house, carefully scaling and peeking into every available window to try and gauge where you were before eventually peeking into a larger window, a dark room laid before him. A soft glow emits from a slightly cracked door, steam pouring from the room.

Jeff unsheathes his knife, sliding it between the glass and screen and forcing the window lock to unlatch. He slowly lifts the window open, hoisting himself up and through the window quietly. Inside the room, he slowly slides the glass back down, perching against the window sill as he notices the sound of running water coming from the adjacent room. Jeffrey grins to himself, crossing his arms across his chest as the door slowly pulls open. There you were. You shuffled through the bathroom door, walking to your nightstand and flicking on the lamp. You wore nothing but a bra and some lacy panties, a towel folded in your hand as you turned back towards the bathroom door. That’s when you saw him, the pale killer resting against your window. Jeff could see the color leave your face as you slowly turned to face him head-on. 

Your face shot red, throwing the towel to cover yourself from his perverted gaze, his smile sending shivers through you. “Oh now, don’t act like I ain’t seen it already…” Jeff chuckled, pushing himself off the window and shoving his hands into his pockets. You took several steps back, body stiffening with fear. “Get the fuck out.” You growled. Your phone was on your bed, way too far out of reach while the door to your hallway was on the other side of the room. You were stuck. But, you’ve fought him once and you’re not afraid to again if it comes down to it. “Oh come on babe, don’t be sour now,” he grinned. Cold blood ran through you. “Do not call me that you piece of shit.” You growled, gritting your teeth. The day had been hell. Paranoia and fear run rampant through your mind at every turn. Constant phone calls and texts asking about details, but even thinking about the man made you sick to your stomach. But here he stood, a proud smirk on his face that made your blood boil.

“What would you rather I call you?” Jeff questioned, snapping you out of your thoughts. “Whore? Cock-slut sounds nice.” He laughed, taking a step closer. He leaned forward, relishing in the blush appearing on your cheeks. “I’m really here to ask about your little interview I saw today. Any reason you decided to keep your little run-in with me a secret?” You grimaced, looking down at the floor, shuffling your feet. “Because the thought of you makes me want to vomit, let alone having to recount it to someone else.” You spat, refusing to look the killer in the eyes. Jeff grinned, taking his hands out of his pockets to cross his arms again. “Is that really it? Or were you too embarrassed? Hmm? Cunt still craving my tongue?” Jeff laughed like a bastard, your face blowing red as you refused to look up at him. He took the final steps to close the space between you, your body going stiff as he backed you to the wall. He reached out, rubbing the back of his knuckle against your cheek, pouting his lips at you. “Why so shy now? Lost all your fire babe?” You glared up into his eyes, snatching his wrist. “Fuck you, coming in while I’m practically naked before a shower.” Jeff snatched his wrist away, gritting his teeth in irritation. Your charm was beginning to wear off quickly, a nuisance more than anything. 

“Don’t let me stop you then,” Jeff growled, gripping a handful of your hair and dragging you into the brightly lit bathroom. He pulled back the shower curtain, shoving you into the tub roughly. You groaned as you landed on your side, barely able to look up before Jeff turned on the faucet, hot water spraying out of the shower head onto you, soaking you and your underwear. You gasped, reaching to sit yourself up before Jeff grabbed you by your arms and forced you up, turning you to face the shower and slamming you against the cool interior. 

Rubbing his hands all over your body, Jeffrey’s touch made its way down to your crotch, rubbing you roughly through your panties. “This pussy is mine, whether you admit it or not.” He snarled in your ear, nibbling on the lobe as it sent shivers down your spine. You gasped, Jeff’s cold hands pulling your panties to the side and circling your entrance as he pushed them in roughly. Becoming increasingly wet, you moaned at the curl of his fingers and the rubbing on your clit which seemed to make it harder for you to focus by the second. Jeff curled his fingers, a gasp escaping your lips with each motion. He moved his lips down your neck, pressing his teeth against your shoulder and biting down hard. You yelped out, hand shooting back to grip Jeff by the hair as he lapped at the blood rolling down your shoulder. “Fuck y- you…” You groaned, and Jeff just laughed. “Don’t worry babe we’re getting there.” 

As you could feel your clit begin to pulse, whimpers escaped your lips quietly, but Jeff took notice. “Ah, ah, ah not so fast…” He removed his hands from your core, your back arching in desperation at the lack of contact. Jeff gripped you tightly and spun you around, forcing you down to your knees in the cramped shower. Water hit the back of your head, soaking your hair. You looked up, meeting Jeff’s gaze with your wide eyes, mascara slowly staining your cheeks. For a split second, Jeff could feel his heart pang. He thought you looked hot as fuck. Wet hair, mascara running down your puffy cheeks, and your bra and panties were practically see-through now. He felt his dick twitch in his soaked jeans, aching to be let out and slap that pretty face of yours. Jeff reached to pull off his hoodie, his bare chest littered with scars and the piercing in his right nipple catching you off guard. He began to quickly undo his belt and jeans, pumping his cock slowly as he looked at you in your pretty face.

“I think I like you in this position the best. You look comfortable.” He chuckled, watching as you eyed his cock with hunger. “Go on…” He cooed, letting go of his cock, it twitching freely in anticipation. You reached up and grasped the length in your hand roughly, chastely jerking him off. You glared into his eyes, pumping your hand with a harsh while his cock pulses and leaks in your hand. It’s more rough than it is good, but Jeffrey can do nothing but breathe roughly through gritted teeth. “This is what you want, huh? You’re fucking disgusting,” you spit, gripping tighter. Jeff chuckles, his breath catching as you begin to circle the head of his cock. You open your mouth, leaning in to lick a long stripe up the underside of his length. He moans quietly, gripping the wall next to him as he watches your other hand slowly reach down to begin circling your clit. He smiles, closing his eyes sharply when you take the head of his cock in your mouth. He reaches up, placing both hands on each side of your head as he slowly presses your head further down. You place your hands on his thighs, bracing yourself against the strain of taking him all in.

He begins to bob you on his length, resurrecting the events from last night as you stare into his eyes. He can still see your fingers circling your clit, little moans and whimpers vibrating on his cock nestled so sweetly in your warm mouth.

“God, your mouth…” He sighs, pressing down extra long to feel your throat constrict around him. Satisfied, he pulls you off of his length, a confused expression crossing your face as he lifts you back onto your feet. He smiles, “Oh, don’t look so sad babe. More to come I promise you.” Turning off the faucet, Jeffrey pulls you into your bedroom, flinging you onto the bed before climbing on top of you. He straddles you, reaching under you to unclip your bra and pull it off of your chest. “Oh, I missed these.” He sighs, taking them into his hands and massaging the mounds. You groan, back trying to arch but unable to under the weight. Jeffrey slides off of you, positioning himself between your legs as he hooks his fingers under your soaked panty line. He pulls them down slowly, tossing them onto the floor before riding of his jeans and boxers. He pulls your legs down to meet him, each leg resting on his thighs before he leans over you pressing your bodies together.

“I kinda like it when you don’t fight..” He grins, kissing along your jawline and the corners of your mouth. You place your hands on his shoulders, feeling his muscles flex. “Shut up…” You groan, meeting his lips as they press against yours, his chapped lips rubbing roughly against yours. He slides his tongue in, engulfing your entire mouth as you groan. Groping your tit, he pinches at your nipple, making you hiss. You grow impatient, arching your crotch up to rub against his length, making him moan roughly into your mouth. He lets off, snaking his hand down to your entrance and slowly rubbing around your folds. “What? Tell me what you need babe.” He smiles with a grin full of shit. You roll your eyes, taking a fist full of his hair and pulling back sharply. You spit into your hand, reaching down to rub the head of his cock. “I need you to get over yourself and fuck me already.” You growl, releasing his hair. He grits his teeth, hooking his hands under your knees and pushing back, spreading you open. He pumps his cock quickly, lining the head up with your entrance before slowly pushing the tip inside.

You gasp loudly, the slight stretch leaving you to arch your back off the bed. Jeff groans, slowly sliding himself in as he licks his thumb and begins to circle your clit. Eventually, he bottoms out, holding himself and you still as he lets you adjust to the size of him. You’re squirming, hands gripping the bedsheets or his shoulders as you attempt to ground yourself. The stretch inside of you feels so good, his tip pressing deeply inside of you as you moan your contempt. Jeff’s hips begin to grind upwards, slightly pulling out before nudging his way back in. Your hips begin to slowly move with him, an eventual rhythm beginning as he begins to pull out of you and slam back inside. “Fu- fuck [Y/N]... God..” He moans, leaning forward to place his hands on each side of your head. You stutter, looking him in the eyes as he moans your name so sweetly. “Name… shit- I don’t know yo- your name…” You hiss, gripping your hands onto his biceps and clawing into them. Jeff begins to move quicker, his thrusts causing your skin to slap against each other lewdly. “Je- Jeffrey.. Jeff, fuck! Shit babe… you’re milking me…” He groans, pulling all the way out to the head before slamming back inside, a jolt of pleasure running through you.

Before you know it, you can feel the all-too-familiar knot strain in your core, white heat flooding you. You moan out, back arching roughly as your eyes begin to roll. You pulse around his cock, clenching his arms tightly as he grounds into the crook of your neck. As you come down from your high, Jeffrey slides out of you, flipping you onto your stomach and pushing your lower back down causing you to arch onto him. “So pretty, fuck babe..” He smiles, positioning his cock back at your entrance before slamming into you again, this time harbouring a quicker pace. You yell out, clawing at the bed as your sensitivity becomes too much for you. “Oh god, no-” You grip the sheets tightly, pulling yourself away from Jeffrey’s abusive grip and pace. You weakly pull away from him, your overstimulated pussy clenching and twitching. Jeffrey chuckles, gripping you tightly by your hips and pulling you back to him, pushing his cock back into your soaked hole as he begins to quickly fuck into you again. “Don’t run away… I know you can take it,” He wraps his arms around your torso, pulling you up so your back is pressed against his chest. “Come on, just give me one more…” He sighs, fucking up into you sharply as your eyes begin to prick with tears.

Your jaw hangs loosely open as Jeff abuses your pussy, slamming into you so deep you feel him press against your g-spot repetitively. “Jeff- please..” You hiss, his hand reaching down and pressing against your clit, lazily circling. He buries his face in the crook of your neck, licking at his bite mark from earlier and sucking on the raw skin. You feel him slowing down, his thrusts becoming sloppy as he moans and whines in your ear. He holds you close to him as he nibbles on your neck.

“Close…” He groans, clenching your skin tightly in his hands. You can feel your release building, his fingers massaging your clit in time with his sloppy thrusts. You reach back, gripping his hair tightly and tugging it so he looks up at you. You press your lips against him,     slipping your tongue into his mouth as he pumps inside of you harshly gripping your skin hard enough to create bruises as he spills his seed inside of you. You moan loudly into his mouth, eyes rolling as you feel your orgasm wash over you. He holds you there for a couple more seconds, lips still locked with yours as he groans deeply. You fall forward, landing on the soft pillow in front of you as Jeff slowly pulls out of you.

He smiles, his cum leaking out of your hole and onto the sheets below you. 

He falls beside you, breathing heavily as you gaze at him. Your sweaty body huddles up against him, his arm falling lazily over your waist and scooping you into him. 

Your hatred for him subsides as you cuddle into his chest, eyes growing heavy and fluttering shut. Jeff hears your soft breathing, the way you relax against him. He grins to himself, pulling the sheets over the two of you. He enjoys how relaxed this is.

But he’ll be gone by sunrise.

Chapter 3 is here !

Comments and reblogs are appreciated ! 𐚁₊⊹

[ssahotchhner]

hunter, hunted

i should not be so excited about this but i just discovered that when you copy and paste text into a new post tumblr FINALLY allows italics and bolded fonts to be transferred over so I don't have to remember to go through it and do it myself again i could literally CRY rn. ANYWAY I thought it would be fun to write a oneshot like the Profiler, Profiled where Morgan is accused of murder. i created an oc for this one and I hope you love April I've spent a lot of time with her the last couple of weeks (:

words: 13.4k

pairing: hotch x oc

warnings: detailed descriptions of murder and torture and sexual assault

questions comments concerns

“Where’s the weapon, April?”

It was almost laughable. A federal agent handcuffed in an interrogation room being questioned for murder in her small town while visiting a childhood friend. She shakes her head at the detective, laughing. “I carry a gun on me at all times because, as I said, I’m a federal agent. You have it in your possession already. If you want to test it to see if I’ve fired it recently, be my guest. You won’t find anything.”

“You’re right, we won’t find anything because Brandon Perry died from blunt force trauma to the head. So I’ll ask you again, where is the weapon?”

This time, April does laugh. Of course he wasn’t shot. That would be too easy. “You know what, Detective Barnes, if you hadn’t kicked my hotel door down in the middle of the night, handcuffed me and dragged me in here, I may have cooperated with the investigation, but here we are. So I’ll tell you again: my Unit Chief is SSA Aaron Hotchner. I won’t be answering any more questions until I can speak with him.”

The middle aged man glares at her until finally getting up and leaving her alone in the interrogation room. She rested her head on the table and hoped that maybe that stupid motherfucker would listen to her this time.

***

“Hunter has been detained in Bar Harbor, Maine.” Hotch tells the team in the conference room.

JJ frowns, “Isn’t that her hometown? Why has she been arrested?”

“For murder.” Hotch says. Before the team can react, he pulls up a picture of Brandon Perry’s body, “Brandon Perry was found yesterday by a fisherman just off the docks a week after he was released from prison on parole. He had been bludgeoned to death with some sort of blunt object, the M.E. suggests a baseball bat.”

“And why do they think April did this?” Spencer asks.

Hotch clicks a button and a picture of a couple brutally murdered in their bed, a little boy who’s throat had been slashed, and a little girl with brown hair and bright green eyes, alive and well filled the screen, “Because he was serving time for the murders of Addison, Jacob, and Timothy Hunter. April’s family.”

Everyone stares at the monitor in shock, “Her whole family was murdered when she was a kid… and she never mentioned it to us?” Penelope asks, her lower lip trembling.

“April was left relatively unharmed, but she had been sexually assaulted by the assailant. She said he was tall, but he had on a ski mask so she was never able to give solid identification.” Hotch finishes.

“So how’d they connect these murders to Brandon Perry?” Rossi asks.

“He was connected to a couple other home invasions and assaults nearby so he entered a plea deal. The local police were under a lot of pressure to close the case.”

“Breaking into homes to murdering almost an entire family is a big escalation.” Morgan says.

Hotch nods, “I thought so too.”

“April was just a kid,” Prentiss says, “And to go through a trauma like that, I’m sure she believed whatever the police fed her. And to see him be released from prison like that… I hate to say it, but it could have been the trigger.”

Penelope’s shaking her head, “No, no, you guys don’t really think April did this, do you?”

Everyone’s silent for a moment and then Morgan speaks, “Baby girl, if she’s innocent, we’ll prove it. But we can’t rule out the possibility that she did this just yet.”

“I know April hasn’t been here that long,” Garcia says, “But she is still a part of this family. You can all treat her like an unsub, but I won’t.” She finishes and marches out of the conference room.

Aaron sighs, “Wheels up in thirty.” He says resolutely before leaving the room.

***

Hotch walked into the police station, the team at his back and was greeted by a man about April’s age who introduced himself as Detective Fielder. “Detective, I’d like to speak to my agent.” Hotch demanded after shaking the man’s hand.

The man shrugged, “Sorry, sir. My partner’s in there with her. She’s stubborn as hell. I went to school with her, you know it’s a shame the way her family died but… must’ve knocked a screw loose or somethin’. She ain’t ever been the same.”

Aaron thought it over, killers had made their way into the bureau before. Not like this, though. Not under the nose of his whole team. April kept to herself, but she had joined this team less than a year ago, it would be overwhelming for anyone. “You misunderstand, detective. It wasn’t a request. Bring me to my agent.”

Reluctantly, the younger detective brought Hotch to the back of the station where he could already hear another man, older by the sounds of it, screaming at April.

She was staring back at him, her posture relaxed, looking more annoyed than anything. Hotch walked in and she relaxed further, only then letting on that she had been putting on a show of being unbothered for the detective, “Thank God.” April sighs, “I thought maybe they didn’t call you.”

“Are you alright?” He asks her first, unable to explain why hearing another man scream at you had made his blood boil.

“I’m fine,” She says and directs her attention back to the older detective, “Detective Barnes won’t even get me a water, though.”

“Detective Fielder, get April some water.” Hotch demands. He can feel the two men exchange a look behind him before the younger detective leaves the room. “Detective Barnes, uncuff my agent.”

“You can’t let her go, you don’t have jurisdiction here.” He growls.

“I’m not suggesting you let her go, but even if you’re right she committed a one off crime of revenge. She’s not a threat to anyone here. Uncuff her.” The detective glared at April who only smirked at him. “Now, detective.” Aaron said, firmer this time.

With a look of disgust on his face, the detective uncuffed a smiling April as detective Fielder came back in the room with a cup of water. “Thank you, Billy.” April said as the detective placed the cup in front of her. He ignored her completely.

“I’d like to speak to her alone.”

“Like Hell.” Detective Barnes spat.

“With all due respect, detective, it doesn’t appear that you’ve gotten much out of her. You’re welcome to watch through the window, but I will be questioning her. Clear the room.” They stared at each other for another few moments before the detectives both left the room. Hotch turned back to April whose entire demeanor changed. She sighed, relaxing her shoulders and slouching over the table as she rubbed at her wrists where the cuffs had been. The antagonizing behavior Hotch had just witnessed her exhibit completely vanished.

“You don’t help when you antagonize them like that.” Hotch says.

She shrugs, “The men in this town don’t like a woman who thinks she’s his equal. They never liked my attitude. They like it even less now that I outrank them. Either I act like the superior I am, even in cuffs, or they force me into submission.”

He sits down at the table across from her, “Why didn’t you tell me about your family? It wasn’t in your file.”

“Strauss knew.” April says, immediately defensive. She hadn’t lied, the bureau knew.

“But you didn’t want me or the team knowing, why?” She doesn’t answer him, just stares at her hands. “April, I can’t help you if I don’t know.” He says gently.

Finally she looks up and sighs, “When I was twelve my entire family was brutalized and murdered in front of me, but not before the unsub raped me in front of my parents. And I didn’t react the way the people of this town wanted me to. I was twelve and I was covered in semen when he left. So I showered before calling 911. I didn’t cry even once in front of anyone and I never spoke about what happened to anyone, not even the police. Only enough to tell them that I had no idea what he looked like, but I thought he was white.” Her eyes water just slightly and she doesn’t meet his eyes, “For the six years after the murders that I stayed in this town, I know a lot of people thought I did it. That I was some kind of psychopath. So no, I didn’t want it in my file.”

“You thought maybe we’d arrive at the same decision the town did.” Hotch opens the case file, “But you were never tried or even considered a real suspect. There was no physical evidence.”

She smiles sadly, “No physical evidence means nothing to a small town who’s rarely ever seen a scandal, and certainly nothing like this.”

He stares at her for a moment, “And so when Brandon Perry was released from jail, you thought he hadn’t suffered nearly enough so you came back up here and killed him.” April laughs and Hotch can see he’s made her feel antagonistic again, “This isn’t funny, April, you’re a suspect in a homicide.”

“No, Hotch, you don’t understand. It’s funny because I don’t even believe Brandon Perry killed my family and I haven’t believed that for a long long time. Which is why it would make no goddamn sense for me to kill him.”

“That’s bullshit!” The door bursts open and detective Barnes walks in.

“Detective--” Hotch stands as if to shield her and April nearly frowns at how protective he seems to be of her right now. She had seen him this way around the rest of the team, but never her.

“You told Detective Fielder when you were fifteen that you would kill that son of bitch yourself if he ever got out of jail.”

Hotch looks at April with a bit of annoyance, he hated when others had more information than him and from the second he walked in here she kept hiding things from him, not telling him the whole truth.

She lazily rolls her eyes and stares at Billy, “I was fifteen. I was angry. He cooperated with the police so he had the opportunity to get parole after fifteen years? Get his life back after I thought he had ruined mine? Yeah, I said some stupid shit, I think any kid would have.”

“When did you start to doubt that Brandon Perry had killed your family?” Hotch asks, but she’s still shooting daggers at the other detectives, “Agent, eyes here.” He says roughly, growing impatient with her.

Her eyes snap to his, “I used to lurk on support pages for people whose loved ones had been murdered and I remember seeing that this girl described… Almost exactly what had happened to my family, but she said it happened while Brandon was on trial here. She lived a couple towns over.”

“So what did you do?”

She shrugs, “Nothing, I was seventeen, I didn’t have any resources there was nothing I could do.”

Hotch sits down across from her again, leaning over the table so he’s closer to her, “You really expect me to believe, with the conviction you just said Brandon is innocent, that you didn’t look into this further?” She stays quiet and won’t meet his eyes, “I can have Garcia search your desk and computer if you’d rather do this that way.”

She leans back in her chair, rolling her eyes, “Jesus fucking Christ, I’m not a fucking criminal.”

“Then tell me what you know.” Hotch says, voice raised.

“Fine! I started volunteering at the police station so I could get access to files. I was good with the digital databases, but no one else was so they basically gave me free reign. I was able to find three similar cases, all within a couple years of each other but in different cities. One of them, he crossed into New Hampshire. All of the local police departments either arrested someone like Brandon or dismissed it as a one off crime and let it go cold. The files are in my desk drawer at the BAU.”

“You carried them with you all this time?”

She picks at the cuticles around her thumb, something Hotch noticed weeks ago she does when she’s nervous. “I thought… I thought about asking you guys to just look at the case a million times. See if you saw what I saw. And if you didn’t then maybe I could finally move on.”

“So why didn’t you ask?”

Her eyes dart around the room, to the detectives, the one way window, and then back to Hotch, “You guys, the team, you all have… This unbreakable bond and I… I barely just got here and I thought if I’d asked…” She sighs and runs her hands through her hair, “I just… I didn’t think you’d care.”

“The whole team flew out here at the drop of hat for you and you think we wouldn’t care?”

She frowns, “The whole team is here?”

“Yes.”

April sits back in her chair, looking dazed.

“Detectives, you’ll be releasing Agent Hunter from your custody now and since we have reason to believe there’s a serial killer loose and across state lines, we’ll be staying on the case.”

“You don’t really believe anything she’s saying, do you? She’s a psychopath!” Detective Barnes fumed.

Hotch stands and steps to the detective who immediately takes a step back after noticing Hotch’s menacing stance, “She is a federal agent and is no longer a suspect, you have no physical evidence and you just lost motive. You will speak to her with respect and if you don’t think you can handle that I’ll contact your superintendent and have you removed from the case. Is that clear?”

The detective stood back and out of their way, April looking at the ground so Hotch wouldn’t have to yell at her for antagonizing them again.

“What’s the history with you and Billy?” Hotch asks as they walk out of the room.

April rolls her eyes, “He was my high school boyfriend.”

“Oh,” Hotch muses, “You can do better.”

Before she can figure out if he was joking or not, the team realizes she’s walking of her own free will and they seem to all release the tension in their bodies. JJ walks to April first, pulling her into a hug before she can react.

April slowly raises her arms to hug JJ back, “I wish you had told us sooner.” Is all she says.

“I’m sorry you guys came all the way out here.” April addresses the team when JJ moves away from her.

“That’s okay, Hunter, we’re just glad to see you aren’t a murderer.” Morgan teases.

“We might actually be staying here for a while after all.” Hotch says.

Prentiss frowns, “Is there a case here?”

April opens and closes her mouth, “I-- Maybe.”

“Why don’t you call Garcia, ask her to get those files to everyone.” Hotch says to her quietly.

April nods and walks off.

“What’s going on, Hotch?” Rossi asks.

Hotch pushes his hands in his pockets, “The reason we were able to clear Hunter is because she has no motive. She doesn’t believe Brandon Perry killed her family and she hasn’t since she was a teenager.” He pauses, “She thinks the murders may be the work of a serial killer. She found three additional cases nearby, one crosses over to New Hampshire, that she believes are the work of the same unsub.”

Prentiss slowly nods, “And you want us to see if that’s true or not.”

Hotch nods, “I’m sure April would really appreciate our support.”

Everyone on the team is already nodding when April comes back, “So, as Penelope might say… Avengers assemble?” She asks hopefully.

Thankfully, they all laugh and nod, even Hotch cracks a smile, “Great.” April sighs in relief, “Let’s go to the conference room.”

With Garcia on a laptop screen, April tells them everything she knows, which admittedly, isn’t much. However, there are overwhelming similarities between the cases.

“Every family he chose was wife, husband, two kids. The eldest was the daughter all between the ages of 11-13 and in each case the daughter was raped and kept alive.” April was speaking as if she wasn’t speaking about herself and Hotch would be lying if he said it didn’t concern him. “In each case the parents were brutally tortured with a knife, forced to watch the rape and then killed with a fatal gunshot to the head. The boy was always killed first and it was always quick.”

“A mercy kill?” Reid muses.

April sighs, “I’ve never been able to figure that part out. It’s obvious he gets off on the rape and torture of the parents and daughter, but why not leave the boy alive the way he always leaves the daughter if it’s out of mercy?”

“It could be he thinks he’s sparing the boy the pain and trauma of having to go through the after effects of watching his parents and sister tortured.” Prentiss says.

“When all is said and done the daughter suffers the most psychologically.” Hotch says, “She could be the real target, maybe a surrogate for someone he knew.”

At this point, Hotch notices the way April is staring at the table, eyes unfocused, “Hunter,” Her eyes shoot up, “You must be exhausted, let me drive you back to the hotel so you can get some rest.”

“Hotch, I’m fine, I want to help.”

“No,” He says and she frowns, “If the daughter is the true target we’re going to have to dive deeper into victimology. Why he chose you. You don’t want to be here for that.”

Everyone’s quiet and deliberately looks away from April. She sighs, “Fine, but I’m coming back first thing in the morning.” She stands and walks out of the conference room without waiting for Hotch.

“Garcia, see what you can find about April’s childhood as well as the other victims and let us know if there’s any similarities.” Hotch says.

“It feels icky, but I’ll do it.” Garcia responds.

“I’ll be back.” Hotch addresses the rest of the team before heading after April.

They ride in silence for a few minutes, Hotch glancing over to the passenger seat every few seconds. “Whatever you want to say just say it.” April says, growing tired of the constant glances.

“You don’t have to keep working on this case like it’s any other case--”

“It’s not just any other case.”

“I know,” He says gently, “I’m worried about you. I know you bottle things up, showing emotion to other people makes you feel vulnerable, which in turn makes you feel weak. And I worry that the way you’re bottling up your rage is going to lead to you taking it out on--”

“I didn’t kill Brandon.” She says.

“I know you didn’t. But if we do find the real killer, I can’t let you come with us into the field until he’s been taken into custody.”

“Hotch--”

“It’s not up for discussion. I’m sorry.”

She sat back in the seat and crossed her arms over her chest and they continue on in silence for a while longer. “Do you think our unsub is also responsible for Brandon’s death?” Hotch felt guilty about upsetting her and thought maybe getting her brain back into work mode would stop her from giving him the silent treatment.

For a few moments he thinks she might continue to ignore him, but finally, she sighs, “It’s possible. If we think he gets off on the suffering of the daughters, he might be upset that I thought he had been caught. That I felt safe knowing he was behind bars. Killing Brandon after he was released could have been a message to me that he’s still out there and obviously following me.”

“You don’t feel safe anymore.”

“That’s not what I said.”

“It was implied.” Hotch pauses, “I can stay at the hotel with you, work with the team remotely from the room next to yours.”

He expects her to refuse, but instead she agrees. “Okay.” She says quietly. This only worries him more as she is typically unlikely to accept help unless he insists upon it.

They walk up to the hotel room in silence and Hotch stands behind her as she unlocks her door, “Hey,” He says softly and she turns, “Anything you need, anything at all, I’ll be right there.” He nods his head to the door next to them.

“Thank you.” She says, giving him a small smile before pushing the hotel door open and then quickly closing it behind her.

He stands there for a moment, staring at the space she was just standing in before sighing and going to his own room.

“How is she doing?” Rossi asks when he calls the team from his room to let them know he’ll be staying there.

“She won’t admit it, but she’s scared. She thinks he might be following her and that Brandon Perry was a message to her that he’s still out there.”

“That would make sense if we think the girls are the real targets.” Prentiss chimes in.

Hotch stays on the phone with them a little while longer before they all decide to head back to the hotel. He stares at the wall that separates him from April and tries to get his mind to quiet enough to rest. He’s right here. Nothing will hurt her if he’s right here. He thought about how just last week Rossi had teased him for catching him staring at April. He had nearly convinced Aaron to ask her out. But she was so distant and hard to read and he didn’t want to chance rejection. Eventually, he closes his eyes and drifts off, an image of you smiling at him on the backs of his eyelids.

***

April was exhausted, but she stared at the ceiling for what felt like hours. Small noises that she never thought twice about now startled her. Hotch is next door. She reminded herself. She thought about the comment he made about Billy: You could do better. Had he been… Flirting? Aaron Hotchner… Flirting? It felt absurd. Shaking the thought out of her head, she got up and poured herself some water from the Brita in the mini fridge. Finally, after drinking the water, she’s able to fall asleep.

The breeze against her face wakes her. Slowly blinking her eyes into consciousness, she notices the balcony doors are open. Those were closed when I fell asleep, She thinks to herself and shoots up in bed, scrambling for her gun as her heart races. April considers yelling to Hotch, but if he’s still here she doesn’t want to scare him off.

On the wall at the foot of her bed reads “Welcome Home” in what looks like blood. Under it sits her favorite childhood teddy bear, head ripped clean off. She tightens her grip on the gun in order to stop the shaking and then glances around the room, but there’s nothing. Then she slowly opens the bathroom door. Pointing her gun at the shower, the curtain moves. She doesn’t hesitate she fires off four rounds, breathing hard. She doesn’t hear a body fall. Reaching out she pushes the curtain, but no one’s there.

Seconds later, Hotch is calling her name, but he doesn’t wait for a response before kicking down the door. “Hunter?” He calls again and she thinks she might hear fear in his voice. Fear for her?

“I’m in the bathroom. You can put down your gun, it’s clear.” He appears behind her a moment later, still staring at the shower, “I thought he was still in here.”

She walks around him and back out to where he left the message, “He came in through the balcony, I— I thought I locked it…” She trails off, looking at the glass of water on the table and realizing she can’t remember when she fell asleep.

“What is it?” Hotch asks.

“He was in here before. I think he drugged my water.”

He narrows his eyes at her, “We should go to the hospital then, I’ll have the team come here and treat this as a crime scene.”

“I don’t need to go to the hospital, I’m fine—“

“We don’t know what he gave you or how much, besides, having you tested will tell us what he used faster than sending a sample of the water to Quantico.”

“Fine.” She agrees begrudgingly, he was right. She walks over to her bag of clothes and it’s only at this moment that she realizes she had worn only an oversized t-shirt to bed and Hotch was making a valiant effort not to stare at her legs.

“I’ll, um, I have to get dressed as well.” He says hurriedly, gesturing to the pajama pants he’s wearing. He leaves before she can say anything else. Under normal circumstances, April’s sure this would have made her laugh, but that teddy bear seems to be staring her down. She gets dressed and leaves the room without another glance.

***

April stares out the window of the SUV in silence while Hotch calls Rossi to fill him in on what happened so the rest of the team can start assessing her hotel room. When he hangs up, she feels his eyes darting between her and the road again.

“Do you want to talk about it?” He asks quietly.

She’s quiet for a moment and then she takes a shaky breath, “That teddy bear went missing from my room a couple weeks before the murders. It was my favorite.” She swipes impatiently at the tears that start falling, “I blamed Timmy for it, we fought about it for hours. He felt so bad that I was mad at him he used his birthday money to buy me another one. I really thought he took it.” She tilts her head back in the headrest, trying desperately to stop the impending sobs.

Hotch doesn’t say anything, but he reaches across the car to hold her hand. To her own surprise, she lets him, the calluses on his thumb rubbing reassuring circles on the back of her hand.

***

“What do you have, Garcia?” Hotch steps out of your examination room for a moment to accept the call.

“How is she?” Penelope asks first.

“She’s… shaken up. But, like everyone else on this team does an excellent job of seeming unaffected.”

She sighs, “My poor wonder woman. Anyway, I think I found the connection between all the daughters.”

“What is it?”

“Well, it turns out that our April was a very talented child. Her parents took her to talent shows regularly, she was voted ‘Most Likely To Make It To Hollywood’ in her middle school yearbook.”

Hotch frowns and looks back at April, “We’re talking about the same federal agent, right?”

“I know, sir, not much surprises me anymore, but this did. There’s videos of her singing all over the internet, she was on the local news, quite the young star.”

“And the other victims?”

“All singers, sir. Every last one.”

“Thanks, Garcia.”

He walks back into April’s room, “You used to be a singer.” He says.

She rolls her eyes, “So?”

“So all the other daughters were singers too.” She sets her jaw and won’t meet his eyes. She’s not surprised by this information. “Why didn’t you mention it?”

“I didn’t think it was relevant.”

“You didn’t think it was relevant that there was a connection between all of the victims?”

She sighs and she feels shame at his obvious disappointment, “I’m sorry. I’ve worked really hard to block it out, sometimes I honestly forget.”

“What else aren’t you telling me?”

She bites her lip and looks down at her hands, picking at the cuticles around her thumb again, “He made me sing while… While he raped me.”

“Is there anything else?”

“No. I swear.”

He stares at her for moment and she knows he’s trying to see if she’s lying. It makes her angry at him, but also at herself. Maybe Hotch had never been as fond of her as the others, but he had never distrusted her. Just another thing the unsub had taken from her. “What song did he make you sing?”

The question is so painful to think about that she visibly flinches, “Do you really need to know that?”

“You know I do.” He says softly.

She looks away from him again, back to the cuticle on her thumb that she’s made bleed, “Like A Virgin by Madonna.”

He places his hand over hers again and she finds it almost alarming the way his touch seems to immediately calm her. “April, we won’t stop until we find him. I promise.”

She gives him a teary smile, “Will you stay with me?”

He smiles back at her, giving her a hand a slight squeeze and his smile takes her breath away, “I’ll be glued to your side until this case is over.”

***

A couple hours later they had found out that there was a classic date rape drug in April’s system: Gamma-hydroxybutyric acid, or GHB. The drug is usually prescribed for narcolepsy, but it was most often obtained illegally from Mexican pharmacies which they assumed was how the unsub got it.

“I’m bringing you back to the police station so you can stay with me and the team like I promised, but you don’t have to keep working the case.” Hotch says as he drives.

“Funny that you think you can stop me from working the case.”

He smirks a bit and brings his attention back to the road.

“What do you guys have for a profile so far?” He looks over at her, frowning. “What? I know you guys have been working while I’ve been reliving my trauma so what’ve you got?”

“White male, when he murdered your family he was probably in his twenties so now we’re guessing mid thirties to early forties. The torture is consistent with a sadist. Killing an entire family is an incredibly high risk crime which suggests he’s a narcissist, but also very organized. He’s able to control four people at once without much difficulty and he’s never left a shred of physical evidence behind except on the daughters. This means he’s arrogant and--” Hotch cuts himself off.

“What?”

“You said you showered before calling 911. Why?”

“I… I told you he left… He left his semen all over me, I was just a kid, I wanted a shower--”

“No.”

“Excuse me?”

“No, that doesn’t make any sense. Yes, you were traumatized, but every kid has it hardwired in their brain that as soon as something bad happens the first thing they do is call 911.”

“Okay, well I didn’t.”

He presses some buttons on the console of the car and then Garcia’s voice is coming through the speaker, “At your service, sir.”

“Garcia, in any of the family murders, was there a rape kit done on any of the daughters?”

“Well, surely there must have been-- Oh. No, no rape kits, not on any of them.”

“Does a police report tell you why?”

“I’m checking… and…” There’s a sigh from Penelope.

“What is it, Garcia?”

“All of them showered before calling 911.”

April is already shaking her head, “No, no that can’t be right.”

“Did any of them report why they showered before calling for help?”

“Most of them, like April, just reported that they felt icky and needed to shower, but the first one, the very first victim Katie Yates, she reported that the unsub made her shower. Like, held her at gunpoint, marched her to the bathroom, and watched. Once he was satisfied with how clean she was, he left while she was still in the shower.”

“That’s not what happened,” April says quietly, her eyes closed.

“Thank you, Garcia.” Hotch says and hangs up the phone before she can respond, “April--”

“No.” She says fiercely, “I’m telling you that’s not what happened.”

“Every other aspect of the crime is controlled and calculated, he wouldn’t make the mistake of leaving DNA all over his victims--”

“I would remember that if he did--”

“No,” Hotch says gently. He had pulled into the police station now, putting the car in park, “No, because you didn’t want to remember. Just that one memory, that one you wanted so badly to believe was your own. That he wasn’t there for the shower. But he was, wasn’t he?”

“Please stop.” She said breathlessly.

“I’m sorry.” He sounds sincere and he puts his hand over hers, “Look at me.” She doesn’t obey immediately so he reaches up to grip her chin and gently turn her face to his. Her eyes are shining and her breathing is uneven, but his eyes are soft and she has the absurd urge to rest her forehead against his. “He can’t hurt you anymore. You’re safe.”

She nods and swallows. “I need you to walk me through exactly what happened after the rape.” He continues. Her lip trembles, but she nods again. “Okay, close your eyes.”

“Hotch--” She whimpers.

“I’m right here. I’ll be here the whole time. You know how this goes. Close your eyes.” She takes a shaky breath and closes her eyes. “Good. He’s on top of you still. He’s just finished. Tell me what you feel, what you hear.”

“Um. I’m crying. I can hear my parents crying. His weight on me is making it hard to breathe.” She starts panicking, her breathing quickens.

“April, focus. He’s not here. You’re safe. What about your hands, what are you touching?”

“The carpet. I’m on the floor in the basement.”

“Can you see your parents?”

“Yes,” She gulps, “But I’m trying not to look at them. It’s humiliating.”

“Okay. Now what is he doing?”

“He… He kisses my neck and whispers in my ear ‘Thank you for the show’ and then he stands up.” Her breathing quickens, “He’s walking to my parents, I don’t want to watch, he’s going to kill them, Hotch--!”

“Okay, okay, come back. Open your eyes. I’m here.” His hands come up to cradle her face. She should be startled by her boss touching her like this, but she’s oddly comforted.

Her breathing finally slows, “I’m tired.” She says softly.

“I know. We’re almost done. Close your eyes again, you can do this.” His hands stay on her face as she closes her eyes again, “Okay. Your parents are dead. What does he do now?”

“Uh, I’m screaming. He’s looking at me and laughing and then he grabs my arm and pulls me up from the floor. I struggle and he puts the gun to my head and says if I don’t calm down he’ll blow out my brains like he did my parents. And then… He walks me up the stairs to the bathroom…” Her breathing becomes rapid again, “I don’t know if I can do this.”

“Yes you can.” Hotch’s voice is low and soothing. He believes in you, she thinks to herself, if he thinks you can do this, you can.

“He turns on the shower. I’m already naked and once I’m in the shower he starts undressing.” Silent tears stream down her cheeks and she’s distantly aware of Hotch gently wiping them away with the pads of his thumbs. “He comes in the shower. He’s touching me. I’m begging him to stop. Oh, God.”

“April, stay there. He’s undressed, he’s taken the mask off, do you recognize him?”

She’s shaking her head, “I can’t… I can’t look.”

“The water’s hitting your skin, his hands are on you--”

“Stop.”

“Look up, April.”

Despite herself, she listens. She’s in that shower, significantly smaller than she is now, and she looks up to see blue eyes looking down at her. Shaggy brown hair nearly covers them, especially now that it’s wet. He has a smirk on his face and crooked front teeth. There’s a tattoo on his right arm of a cross.

“Okay, okay that’s enough, you did it.” Hotch’s voice pulls her back out and she becomes aware of the car that’s still around them and the fact that she’s sobbing. “You’re okay. You’re safe. You did so good.” She falls forward in his arms and after a moment of hesitation he wraps his arms around her, holding her until her breathing settles. It takes him a moment to realize that anyone could look in the SUV and find him in a seemingly compromising position with his subordinate and he pulls away. To his shock, she seems to look disappointed. “You ready to go inside?”

“Yeah.” She says and without another word, she gets out of the car. Hotch can’t deny that he feels like he’s done something wrong as he watches April walk into the station.

When April walks in the station, her whole team cranes their heads to watch her, but she heads straight for the coffee without looking at anyone. Hotch files in soon after.

“Is she okay?” Reid asks, the rest of the team waits for his answer.

“I just gave her a cognitive interview, I’m sure she’s upset.”

“Did you learn anything?” JJ asks.

“Yeah,” Hotch nods, “She remembers what he looks like and she identified a tattoo on his right arm.”

“We should have Garcia run that, see if we can get an ID.” Morgan says.

“Call a sketch artist as well.” Hotch looks up at where April was standing just a few moments ago to see her gone, “Excuse me.”

***

April’s hands shake so hard as she tries to pour the coffee she ends up putting it down in frustration. “Need some help?” She turns to see Billy, standing there smirking at her.

Sighing, she stands back and gestures for him to go ahead. He steps in to pour the coffee, “Pretty elaborate ruse you got going on, staging a break in at your hotel room with that teddy bear.”

She stares at him in disbelief, “You still think I did this?”

“I think,” He says, handing her a cup of coffee, “That you’re impulsive and you went to confront Brandon and you didn’t mean to kill him, but you did and now this is all to cover everything up.”

“Oh,” She scoffs and starts walking away from him, “You are delusional and a dick.”

He follows April into another room and closes the door behind them, “Open the door.” She says when she realizes she’s shut in.

“You and your stupid FBI team are making this whole police force look bad, you need to drop the investigation.”

“The cases cross state lines, we have jurisdiction.”

“Yeah, you would have jurisdiction if there was a real case, but there isn’t. You’re a pathological liar and you can’t even see it. Brandon Perry murdered your family and raped you and just can’t let it go.”

“You’re a sick son of a bitch,” She walks around him to the door, but he turns quickly and places his palm against the door, slamming it shut again. “Let me out.” She says slowly.

“I’ll let you out when you promise me that you’re going to march out there and tell them that you’ve been lying this whole time and then march your pretty ass back to D.C.”

“Or what?”

“Or I’ll arrest you for the murder of Brandon Perry.”

“You have no evidence.”

“Oh, April, April, April. I know you know what a coerced confession is here. And I also know that you know a jury of your peers here in Maine would send you to prison for less.”

There’s a sharp knock on the door and Billy finally steps away. When she opens it, Hotch is on the other side, “Everything okay in here?”

“Just fine, Agent Hotchner. Isn’t that right April?” Billy says and grabs a strand of her hair, twirling it around his finger and tugging, exactly like he used to when he sat behind her in middle school.

April slaps her hand on his wrist and twists his arm around until he yells. “You lay a hand on me or threaten me again, I will make sure you don’t have a career here anymore. Understood?”

“You can’t--” He starts, but she twists his arm further.

“Am I clear?” She says again.

“Alright, fine!”

She shoves him away and he stumbles, nearly falling to the floor as April storms out, Hotch still standing in the doorway, watching Billy.

“I told you,” Billy says, pushing himself to standing, “She’s a crazy bitch.”

“Detective, let me make myself very clear. If you continue to harass my agent or impede on this investigation in any way, not only will I make sure you never have a career in law enforcement again, I will arrest you for obstructing a federal investigation.”

Billy shakes his head, “She’s got you all wrapped around her finger.”

“And I think your boss has you wrapped around his finger. He’s the one who arrested Brandon Perry. Seems like he would have a lot more to lose if he was wrong than you would.”

“He wasn’t wrong.”

“Then let us conduct the investigation. If it leads back to Brandon Perry, then so be it.”

“You really think she’d accept that?”

“If the evidence led us there, she would. Now stay out of our investigation if you value your job.” Hotch leaves without giving him time to respond and then tries to find April.

“Are you alright?” He asks when he finds her. She’s sitting alone at a conference table.

“I’m fine, Billy’s just an asshole.”

“There’s more to your relationship than you told me to begin with.”

She frowns, “What are you talking about?”

“You said you came up here to visit a friend. Who were you visiting?”

“I’m tired of being interrogated--”

“The reason Billy is so sure you killed Brandon Perry is because you were with him that night and then you left suddenly, isn’t it?”

April sighs and looks down at the table, “Hotch, I appreciate everything you’re doing to help, but who I was with and what I was doing that night doesn’t change the fact that I didn’t kill Brandon so please just drop it.”

He shakes his head and he looks almost frustrated with April, but that doesn’t make any sense. Why would he care so much about her relationship with Billy? “I don’t understand why you would waste your time on a cop like that, look at what a mess it put you in.”

She frowns, “With all due respect, sir, it’s really not your business who I’m sleeping with.”

“Why did you leave that night if you didn’t kill Brandon?”

She scoffs, “I can’t believe this.”

“Answer the question.”

She was angry with him. Practically bursting at the seams with rage. Just like every other man, thinking he’s entitled to everything about her. They all disappointed her in the end. “Billy and I had a fight and I wanted to be alone.”

“What was the fight about?”

“He wanted to be an official couple again. I didn’t.”

“Why not?”

She tilts her head to the side, “Just because I’m a good fuck doesn’t mean he gets to claim me. Like you said, he’s just a stupid cop and I could do better. Now will you leave me alone?”

April recognized that look in his eyes: He was jealous. Aaron Hotchner was jealous that she had a sexual relationship with another man. And suddenly her anger evaporated and was replaced by desire. She supposed she did always have a thing for older men which she was sure a profiler would say had to do with her dead dad. Either way, she sent a smoldering glare his way until he left her alone.

When he left, she rested her head on the table in exhaustion and didn’t notice Emily had approached until she heard the seat in front of her being pulled out. She raises her head and manages a smile, “Hi.”

“How are you doing?” She asks.

“Better now that you’re here, I’m tired of all the men around here.”

She laughs, “Good. Well, the sketch artist is here and I’m sad to report that he is a man.” April groans. “But, I will stay with you if you want and then I think we’re all going to work through the night, but Hotch was talking about bringing you back to the hotel to get some rest. It sounds like you had a rough day.”

“Yeah,” She sighs, “Cognitive interviews are the worst.”

As promised, Emily sits with her while she talks to the sketch artist and Hotch walks over not long after. When it’s finished, Emily gives your hand a squeeze and leaves with the sketch to pin to the evidence board.

“You should get some rest, I’ll take you back to the hotel now.” Hotch says, hands in his pockets. It was intriguing to her that he could act like he didn’t just ask about her sex life only an hour ago.

“I can’t sleep in that room again.”

“You can sleep in mine. I’ll sleep on the floor,” He adds quickly upon seeing the look on her face.

She sighs, “You don’t have to sleep on the floor, just don’t touch me.”

“Won’t be a problem.” And with the indifference in his tone, she thought maybe she had actually imagined everything earlier.

“Great.” She murmurs and gets up to walk out first.

Hotch stays behind for a moment, pinching the bridge of his nose and Rossi comes up behind him, “You picked a terrible time to start giving her hints about the way you feel, Aaron.”

“We’re trying to solve a case about her family’s murder and all I can think about is how pissed off it makes me to know that she’s been sleeping with someone else.”

“You’re human.”

Hotch just shakes his head and walks away.

***

“Daddy driving you home?”

The voice behind April makes her jump, her hand flying automatically to her gun.

“Woah, it’s just me April.” Billy laughs, leaning up against the station building, “You really are on edge, lately, huh? A sign of guilt or genuine fear?”

She could strangle him right here, she thinks. But instead, she reigns in her temper and leans against the wall next to him, “What about your daddy, huh? Haven’t seen him here all day. Is he too busy making wrongful arrests?”

Billy scoffs, “Yeah, and how’s your stupid little profile going? Did you find the real killer yet?”

She sighs, “You cops are all the same, think your old fashioned police work is better than profiling.”

Billy looks like he’s about to respond, but Hotch walks through the door just then, “There’s daddy, you better hurry up and get in the car like a good girl.”

Hotch barely registers what Billy’s said before April launches herself at him, fists flying. He immediately reacts, grabbing her arms, “Hunter, hey, hey! That’s enough! Get in the car.” He says sternly.

She shakes him off, but walks to the car all the same.

“Fucking bitch.” Billy mutters, drawing Hotch’s attention back to him.

“Detective, I thought I made myself clear that you were to stay away from my agent and out of my case.”

Billy steps up, eye to eye with Hotch, “This is my station, agent. Back off.”

Hotch stares him down for a few more moments, “The superintendent will be hearing from me tomorrow, at the very least you’ll be getting suspended. Maybe now’s a good time for you to clean out your desk.” And then he turns and walks back to the SUV, ignoring Billy’s curses behind him.

Once Hotch is in the SUV and starts driving away, he starts talking to April, “When you’re out in the field you represent me, you represent the team, and the whole bureau. You can’t just--”

“I don’t need a lecture right now.”

He’s surprised to hear tears in her voice and it softens him immediately, “April, I’m sorry I’ve been so hard on you today.”

“You’ve only done what you need to do to solve the case, you shouldn’t apologize.”

“No, no, I… I shouldn’t have questioned you about Billy earlier. You were right, it’s none of my business.”

“It’s fine.” She says. First indifference, now an apology. Maybe she really had imagined everything. “I just want to sleep.”

***

Hotch works for a while by the light of the lamp when you get into bed, poring over the case files again and again, trying to figure out if they had missed anything. He’s pretty sure April is actually sleeping and once he’s sure he can’t get any more work done, he turns off the lamp and gets ready for bed.

He slips in the bed as quietly as possible, hoping not to wake her, but there’s the smallest moan that escapes her lips when the mattress shifts. A moment later, she turns over, still in sleep and slings her arm over his chest, sighing contentedly as she rests her head on his chest. Hotch freezes, unsure of how to react before slowly wrapping his arms around her in return. Her shampoo smells like peaches and vanilla and he breathes it in deeply knowing in the morning she’ll pretend this never happened.

***

When April wakes up and finds herself in Hotch’s arms, legs tangled under the sheets, she does her best not to panic. With the way they were positioned, it was clear she had initiated this which was all the more embarrassing. Lucky for her though, she doesn’t have to figure out her next move because his phone rings. She pretends to be asleep as he slowly comes to wakefulness and reaches for his phone.

“Hotchner.” His voice is husky from sleep and it sends a thrill through her and she imagines for a moment what it would be like if Aaron Hotchner was hers. Then she hears Billy’s voice in her head calling him her daddy and the moment sours.

“Okay.” He says after a few moments, “We’ll be there as soon as we can.”

He ends the call and sets the phone back on the nightstand, but to her surprise, he doesn’t immediately wake her. “Are you awake?” He whispers after a few moments and she tries not to balk.

“Mmm.” Is all she manages and she keeps her eyes closed, not sure she can meet his eyes like this.

“They’ve, um… Another family was killed last night.” He tries to say it as gently as possible, but she shoots up in bed anyway, “The daughter was killed as well this time.”

She’s shaking her head, “No… No, that can’t be. She has to… She can’t be dead.”

“It’s probably a message to you.” Hotch says calmly.

She scoffs, “That’s great. A whole family’s dead because of me.”

“This isn’t your fault.”

“Oh, like hell it isn’t.” She says, climbing out of bed and pulling on her jeans. She doesn’t fully realize who she’s getting dressed in front of until Hotch tries to subtly avert his eyes. “I should’ve solved this case years ago. I’ve known it was serial for a while. I could have saved them.”

“You know as well as I do that thinking like that isn’t helpful for anyone.” He says, following her lead and getting dressed in front of her. The fact that they’re both acting like nothing out of the ordinary has taken place between them makes everything somehow even more intimate.

She sighs, “Let’s just get over there.” And she walks into the bathroom to brush her teeth.

***

April can feel the bile rising in her throat as her team mills around the crime scene. She’s crouched next to the girl, Layla, whose throat had been slit. She had also been stabbed too many times to be counted by the naked eye. Her eyes stared blankly ahead, but April could see the fear there. He had left her here, in front of her parents’ bodies, naked. “He went through the entire ritual, even the shower, then brought her back down here and killed her.”

“He’s always been very controlled and organized, but this last kill is full of rage.” Prentiss notices.

April frowns as she looks at Layla’s throat and notices that it almost seems to be bulging, “I think there’s something in her throat.” She pulls on her latex gloves while everyone crowds around her and then gently prys the girl’s jaw open. Reaching in, her fingers brush what feels like crumpled paper at the back of her throat and April pulls it out. Heart racing, she smooths it open.

Welcome home, April. I’d like to see the woman I’ve created. Arrive alone at the place where we first met, 20:00.

Everyone was silent as April read the note over and over after reading it aloud the first time. The word “alone” had been underlined several times. There was no threat attached to it, but April knew it was one all the same.

“We’ll have to call SWAT and let them know, we’ll also have to prepare the local police--”

“No.” April cut off Hotch, “You can’t be serious, he said to come alone.”

“April, his end game is clearly to kill you, if you go there by yourself you won’t come back out. And I already told you you’re not allowed to handle the arrest.”

“This is our one shot to get him,” Her eyes water, “This family died because of me--”

“Hunter--”

“Stop.” The tears fall down her cheeks and he wants to brush them away like he had the day before. “I won’t let this happen again, I’m going to see him by myself.”

“At least go in with a wire, we’ll stay a safe distance away.” Morgan bargained.

She shifts her attention to Morgan, to her team who are all looking at her sadly. Concern dripping heavy from their limbs. “No SWAT.” She insists, “Just this team.”

Hotch sighs and rubs a hand over his face, “You’re sure you can handle this?”

She wasn’t, but she nods anyway.

“Fine.” Is all he says before walking away.

***

Aaron is conscious of her eyes on him as he helps her put the wire on, “You steer the conversation away from yourself when you’re in there. Don’t let your guard down for a second. He’s going to try to get in your head, blame you for what he’s done. Don’t let him, just feed his ego and then call us when you’ve got him. Okay?”

“Yeah.” She says quietly.

He finishes putting the wire on and leans away from her in the surveillance van, “I can go in with you.” He says, giving it one last shot.

“No.”

He nods resolutely, “Promise me you’ll walk out of there alive.” She avoids meeting his eyes, “April.”

Finally she locks her eyes to his, “I’m scared.” She says, and her voice shakes.

It’s the first time he’s heard her admit it. He’d known she felt it, but she’d never admitted it. “Listen to me.” He says firmly, “You are not the twelve year old girl he knew. You’re stronger than him. You can do this.”

She takes a deep breath and nods, moving around him to exit the van.

“Be careful.” He says one last time and he thinks maybe she’s aware of just how worried he is about her, his eyes full of concern.

She gives him a small smile before turning away and walking down the street, rounding the last block to her childhood home, the house she hadn’t entered again since the murders. The town was small and since everyone knew what had happened there, it had never been sold.

April stands just outside the house for a minute, hand hovering just above her gun, trying to get both hands to stop shaking. Hotch believes in you. She reminds herself, recalling his words in the van. She can do this.

She’d been avoiding thinking about all his touches in the last few days. The way his rough, callused fingers felt so gentle on her face when she cried. The way he’d wrapped his arms around her in sleep, almost protectively. The way when he woke to answer his phone this morning he had absently stroked her shoulder. Did they mean anything to him or was he just an overworked, touch starved man, desperate for any sort of attention, even from her.

Shaking the thoughts from her head, she headed for the door, raising her gun as she approached. The door was already slightly ajar and she pushed it lightly with the pads of her fingers. Carefully, she cleared each room, heart ricocheting against her rib cage, though she already knew where he’d be waiting for her.

After they had found the last family, Garcia had been able to ID the killer based on the sketch and the tattoo as Allen Grey. He had the usual tough past, abusive father and mother, grew up in poverty. His parents died when he was still young and his older sister was left to take care of him, and she then continued the cycle of abuse, escalating to sexual assault. It explained the mercy for the young boys and torture of the eldest daughters, but April couldn’t bring herself to feel sympathy for him.

She stood at the top of the basement stairs, could already see the lights on down there and could hear Madonna’s Like a Virgin playing on vinyl. April hated the way her body reacted, the way everything in her was telling her to run. She was a federal agent for Christ’s sake, she took down killers like this one all the time. He was no different, she tried to assure herself, he was just like the rest. And then she steeled herself, brought her gun back up in front of her at eye level, and began descending the stairs.

“There you are! Welcome home, April!” Allen says cheerfully as you point the gun at him, “Now, now, come on, I don’t have a weapon,” He raises his hands, “Why don’t you holster that gun, Agent Hunter.” He had an arrogant smirk on his face.

Tears stung the corners of her eyes and her finger flexed on and off the trigger, wanting so bad to just pull it and be done with it. But she knew her team was listening and this was exactly why Hotch hadn’t wanted her in the field for this. She lowered her weapon and put it back in her holster.

“That’s better. Why don’t you have a seat?” He gestured to the worn out table and chairs, “Let’s have a drink. Talk.”

She swallowed thickly, “No thank you.” She managed.

“No, come on now, April. We have to catch up!”

“Why did you bring me here?”

He smiles at her again and comes closer to her. Slowly, he pulls a knife out of his pocket and brings it up for her to see. She balks, but he quickly grabs her from the back of her neck to keep her steady and runs the knife gently over her face. “You were always so clever, April.” She keeps eye contact with him, doing her best not to show any fear. “So pretty and smart. I only followed you, after, you know? You were… number two, I believe. I chased the high I got with you with everyone after, but none of them were the same.”

“Is that why you stopped for a while after the fourth family?”

He nods, “Like I said, you were always so smart. And then I saw how you became obsessed with people like me, went to college to study criminal justice, always thinking about me. Joined the FBI because you were so obsessed with me, weren’t you, little April?”

She wanted to spit in his face, but she remembered what Hotch said about feeding into his ego, “They say you never forget your first.” She says cooly, almost seductively.

It works, an arrogant smile twists its way up his face and he pockets the knife. “All I ever wanted was to find you,” She says, slipping into character, “See those blue eyes again. I dream about them every night.” None of these statements are lies, but the tone she takes when delivering them, the sweetness she adds to it, the act she puts on makes bile rise in her own throat.

“I knew it.” He says, looking at her with newfound desire, “We’re soulmates, you know?” His words are gentle, but he grips her by the hair again and pulls, exposing her neck. “Let’s run away together, baby.”

“Okay.” She says softly, “I’m ready.”

Hotch is already ordering the team to go in, jumping out of the back of the van with Morgan. Through his earpiece, he listens closely to you. He can hear your fear in the way you’re breathing, but he’s not sure Allen is picking it up from you.

When she agrees to go with him, he spins her and shoves her against a wall, her head painfully bouncing off the cement. He laughs as she winces and then leans in to kiss her throat, “Are you going to tell your team to leave us alone?” He reaches under her shirt where the wire is and yanks it off her. “April, April, April. My clever, clever girl. You had to know I would have expected you not to come by yourself.”

He pushes himself off her and walks to the table, reaching under it and pulling out a gun that he had taped there earlier.

April’s jaw tenses as he raises the gun to point it at her head, “You won’t kill me.” She says smoothly, though she’s not sure she believes it herself.

“No,” He cocks the gun and turns slightly to aim towards the doorway, “But if Aaron Hotchner walks through that doorway I’ll kill him.”

She does her best to betray nothing, but a muscle in her jaw jumps involuntarily and he narrows his eyes at her, “Yeah, I thought you liked him.”

“I care about everyone on my team.” She says stiffly.

He shakes his head, “No. Don’t forget April, I’ve been watching you. I know your weaknesses as I’m sure you know mine and the past few days here I’ve noticed the way you look at Agent Hotchner when you think he’s not looking. But he always notices because he’s always aware of you, even when he tries his hardest not to be. So, April, I’ll give you one chance,” He hands the wire back over to her, “Tell Aaron to back off.”

Reluctantly, she takes the wire from him. “Hotch,” She breathes, “Stand down.”

Hotch holds a hand up to the team on the outside, signaling them to stand down, though he can barely hear past the roaring in his ears.

“There,” Her voice comes in his earpiece again, “Are you happy now?”

“I’ll be happy when he hears me kill you and knows there’s nothing he can do to stop it.”

“I thought we were running away together.”

“You think I can’t tell when you’re playing me?”

“No, I know you can’t tell when I’m playing you.” Something in April had unlocked when Allen threatened Hotch. Threatened her team. And she knew Hotch could hear them and though she had told him to stand down, he was trying to figure out another way to get to her. He wouldn’t stop until she was out of there, whether it ended with both her and Allen in body bags or Allen in cuffs. But she wouldn’t let it come to that.

“Since you’ve been watching me my whole life, you know the entire town thought I killed my own family and that I lied about the whole thing. Do you know why they thought that? Because they saw in me what my team sees in people like you.” She walks up to him, and though every instinct screams to run, she instead places a hand on his chest, “That night… you made me into you. So no, Allen,” It’s the first time she uses his name and she relishes the shock that lights in his eyes, “You can’t tell when I’m playing you.” Capitalizing on his surprise, she disarms him the way Morgan has drilled into her over and over, quickly slamming his wrist into the nearest surface and catching the gun when he releases his grip. Faster, she takes a step back from him and draws her gun as well, now pointing two weapons at him, “And I think you’ve overplayed your hand, babe.”

He raises his hands and now there’s genuine fear in his eyes, “April--”

“I’d like you to very slowly remove the knife from your pocket and toss it to the floor and if you even think about launching it at me, just know that I am a very good shot and I have been dreaming about killing you every day since I was twelve, don’t tempt me.” Her voice shakes, but this time not from fear, but from anger that she’d harbored close to her chest since the man who stood in front of her stole everything from her.

As Allen slowly does as he’s told, April hears footsteps on the stairs and is relieved when she spots another gun trained on Allen in her peripheral. Morgan begins to walk to Allen, but April stops him, “No.” She says, “I want to do it.”

He nods and redraws his gun, backing away. She holsters her own weapon and hands Allen’s gun back to Hotch without looking at him. Drawing cuffs from her pocket, she walks behind Allen who has managed to get a smirk back on his face. The sight breaks something in her and she roughly shoves him against the wall, feeling satisfaction at his grunt of pain when his face collides with the cement. She tightens the cuffs a bit more than necessary and begins stating his rights to him as she marches him up the stairs.

“I’m going to be a legend, you know? They’ll make all these dateline documentaries about me and the families I’ve killed.” He’s smiling still as April shoves him in the backseat of Billy’s police car. She’s trying not to think about the fact that he showed up here.

“Prisoners don’t look too fondly on those among them who kill and rape children, Allen, and I’m going to make sure that whatever cell block you rot in knows exactly what you’ve done. Have a nice life.” And she slams the car door.

Billy’s watching her as she does so, “I’m sorry.” He says simply.

April sighs, “I don’t care.” She says without looking at him and then walks away.

Hotch is watching her, arms crossed and frowning deeply. She stops in front of him, tilting her head to the side and noticing the concern written all over his face as he sizes her up, “Thank you for backing off when I asked you to. I know that was hard for you.”

He simply pushes himself off the car that he was leaning against and pulls her to his chest. She feels surprised for a moment, but then wraps her arms around his waist in return, breathing him in, focusing on his touch rather than Allen’s. And when the sobs begin to wrack her body, he just holds her tighter. He knows the rest of the team is watching and maybe he’ll have to explain this later, the way he rests his head on top of hers to reassure himself as much as her, but he doesn’t much care. He’d been fairly certain she was going to die in there and he’d never have the chance to tell her how he really felt.

Hotch drives back to the hotel with her sleeping in the passenger seat. The medics had checked her out and concluded that she didn’t really have any injuries, but his heart had nearly shattered in his chest when April asked if there was any way they could refill her sleeping medication. They had been unable to, but decided to give her a few doses of ambien anyway, to last her until she could call her prescriber back in DC.

“You can take as much time off as you need when we get back.” He had said as they climbed in the SUV, his too big FBI jacket wrapped tightly around her shoulders as she immediately popped the ambien in her mouth.

“I don’t need to take time off.” Was all she said before she curled herself in a tiny ball, facing the car door, and fell asleep only minutes later.

Now, he pulled into the hotel parking lot, rain falling gently against the windows and debated whether he should wake her. “April.” He said softly, gently shaking her shoulder.

“Mmm.” She murmurs and her eyes flutter. Still straddling the line between sleep and wakefulness, seeing Hotch’s face above hers prompts a small smile. “Aaron.” She says softly and reaches her hand up to touch his face.

Hearing her use his first name so tenderly sends a jolt through him, but he reminds himself that she’s sedated, albeit lightly, from the ambien. “Do you think you can walk up to the hotel room?”

She nods sleepily and he quickly gets out of the car to help her out of the other side, pulling the hood of his jacket over her head to shield her from the rain. She walks slowly because of the drug, but he doesn’t mind. And when she slides her hand down to his to intertwine their fingers, he doesn’t mind that either. When they get to the hotel room she wordlessly strips down to her underwear and climbs into bed.

He stares at her for a while, unsure if she would want him in the bed or not, and decides it’ll be safest to sleep on the couch. He begins taking some cushions off the couch when he hears her voice, “Aaron?” There was his name again. He wasn’t sure why hearing her say it had him coming undone, but he wanted her to repeat it over and over again.

“Yes?”

“Why won’t you come to bed?”

He opens and closes his mouth a couple times before responding, “I was going to sleep on the couch.” She’s quiet for too long and he thinks she must’ve fallen asleep so he turns back to the couch.

“I don’t want to sleep alone.” Her voice is so quiet, he wonders if he imagined it. But when he turns back to the bed, she’s watching him, eyes full of sadness and what he thinks might also be desire. He can’t say no to her. She continues watching him as he takes off his clothes, first unbuttoning his shirt. She watches him carefully, no traces of shyness and he tries his best not to let on the way her attention affects him. He undoes his belt buckle and then pulls off his pants before walking to the bed, pushing the sheets aside, and climbing in.

She turns to him and brings their faces close enough that just another inch would have them rubbing noses together. “Why have you been so nice to me this whole case?”

It’s not what he was expecting her to say and he frowns, “It was a tough case for you that brought back a lot of trauma, why wouldn’t I be nice to you?”

She shrugs, “I know you’ve never liked me the way you like the rest of the team--”

“That’s not true--”

“Aaron.” He wonders if maybe she’s caught on to the way saying his name affects him as his mouth closes immediately, “I’m not stupid, I haven’t been here nearly as long as the others and I certainly never open myself up in front of them the way the rest of you do. It’s not anyone’s fault, I’m just… Not a part of the family. But this case… You treated me the way you would treat Reid, JJ, Morgan, Prentiss… Any of them. Why?”

“The second you join this team you’re a part of this family and I’m sorry we made you feel otherwise.”

She rolls her eyes and turns her head to look at the ceiling, “Would you have shared a bed with any of them?”

Heat floods his face and he’s glad she’s not looking at him. “No.” He says and he’s sure his voice, thick with desire has betrayed him.

But April only nods, still staring at the ceiling, “Is it just because you’re lonely?”

It’s then that he realizes what she’s getting at. He hears the vulnerability in her voice, the fear there. She thinks she’s not good enough for him and it breaks his heart even further. “April, look at me.” She manages to turn her head to him and her eyes are glassy. “You have shown the last few days how incredibly resilient, intelligent, and just amazing you are. You can’t really think that the only reason I keep reaching for you is because I’m lonely.”

She smiles sadly, “You wouldn’t be the first.”

A lesser man would’ve taken this personally, perhaps groan about how she could think so little of him, but Aaron was different. He understood what she’d been through, that he could have been Superman himself and she’d still have her doubts.

“Then I suppose I’ll have to prove it to you.”

She turns her head back to him and frowns, a trace of amusement on her face, “And how do you plan on doing that?”

Hesitantly, he reaches out and strokes a thumb across her cheek, “I’d like to start by just holding you tonight, if that’s alright.”

She closes her eyes at his touch, nuzzling her face further into his palm and he melts. “I’d like that.” She says softly.

So he gently wraps an arm around her waist and pulls her to him. Her little sigh of contentment as she settles against his chest is almost too much for him to take. “Aaron?” She says after he's spent a few moments just listening to her heartbeat.

“Hm?”

“You’re the only man I’ve ever felt truly safe around.”

He feels her sadness then and he tightens his grip around her to convey that he’s sorry she feels that way, but he’s grateful for her trust. They fall asleep like that and neither attempt to move away from the other the entire night.

***

“So this is a date.” It had been about two months since they had gotten back from Maine and Aaron had been nothing but a gentleman to her. So much so, in fact, that at some points she thought he was no longer interested in her.

He chuckles, “It’s not a date. We’re meeting the team.”

“Yes, but you’re taking me,” April grins, linking her arm through his as they walk towards the bar, “So it’s a date.”

“If it was a date I would’ve done this--” Hotch spins her in front of him and abruptly kisses her. At first, she freezes, but when he gently nips at her bottom lip she moans slightly, kissing him back. As sudden as it began, it ends and Aaron is staring at her with a look of such arrogant satisfaction she wants to slap him.

“Okay, so it is a date.” She murmurs quietly as Aaron steps around her and walks away, “I knew it.”

When Aaron opens the door to the bar for her, he casually slips his hand in hers, intertwining their fingers. He notes her questioning look from the corner of his eye, but just squeezes her hand in response. And instead of detaching herself from him when the team notes their arrival, she squeezes his hand in return, even when the relentless teasing from the team commences.

Aaron only slips away from her to go get them drinks and even then she looks back for him. It’s the most unsure of herself he’s ever seen her and it only broadens his grin.

“You finally did it, eh? Attaboy, Aaron.” Rossi’s already at the bar, a whiskey in hand and another on the bar that he slides to Aaron. He takes it and then orders April a gin and tonic.

“It’s just one date, Rossi. She’s still… hesitant.”

“She doesn’t look hesitant,” Rossi says, looking over his shoulder, “She hasn’t taken her eyes off you since you walked away from her.”

Aaron smirks, “Yes, well, I’ve discovered playing hard to get is very effective with her.” He tips the bartender and clinks his glass with Rossi before walking back over to April. When he hands her the drink, she seems to shrink into his side, taking larger gulps of her drink than he thought she should.

“Slow down,” He plucks the drink from her hand and places it on a nearby table, “Why are you so nervous?”

“Look at all of them just staring at us, I feel pressured.”

“Pressured into what, being with me?”

“Aaron, no,” She places a hand on his arm, sensing the insecurity rising in him, “I want to be with you.”

“Then what?”

She shrugs and reaches for her drink again, but Aaron covers her hand before she can, clearly expecting an answer from her. She sighs and looks up at him, “I feel pressure to be perfect because I can see on their faces how much they love you and I don’t want to fuck this up and then you all hate me because I wasn’t good enough for you.” It all comes out in a rush and she feels breathless after admitting it, her cheeks reddening as he lifts his hand, allowing her to reach for her drink.

“April, they like you just as much as they like me.” She rolls her eyes and he reaches out to tip her chin up gently with his fingers, “You could never mess this up.”

“I messed it up with Billy.”

He drops his hand, unable to hide the annoyance and jealousy on his face at the mention of Billy, “Billy was an immature boy who didn’t know how to treat you anyway.”

She smirks, “And you’re a big strong man who can sweep me off my feet at a moment’s notice?” He manages the smallest of smiles as a slow song starts playing, “Come on, Hotchner. Ask me to dance.”

“You want to dance in front of the team?”

“Well you brought me here to show me off, didn’t you?” He gives her a look like he’s offended she would even think so and she laughs, “Please?” She pouts, “Billy would dance with me if he were here.” She adds teasingly, her eyes glittering with mischief.

Hotch shakes his head at her, but he’s grinning, “You love causing trouble, don’t you?” And she laughs in response as he takes her hand and pulls her to the dance floor, letting his left hand rest gently on the small of her back, his other hand holding hers.

He twirls her around the room and with the whole team watching, he kisses her as the song ends. Their lips worked together to teach each other their own dance and for a moment, it’s just the two of them, until the rest of the team starts jeering and April pulls away, her face flushed. Aaron is still looking at her, smiling and she reaches up with her thumb to swipe at his mouth, “I got some lipstick on you.” She says quietly.

“Can I take you home?” He says finally and his voice is husky and full of want.

She wonders if he’s aware of how alluring the sound of his voice is. “Yeah.” She responds swallowing.

He leads her out of the bar after much protesting from the rest of the team, but all he wants and needs is to get April, April who’s smiling at him from ear to ear, home and in bed with him. They settle into their new relationship with ease, the team noting that they’d never seen either of them smile so much and all of April’s fears and insecurities melted away day by day.

As long as her unit chief quietly placed a coffee on her desk every morning with a sweet note attached to it, she figured she could overcome anything.

[callmestiletto]

once upon a time i watched both justice leagues back to back

strictly speaking, i watched zack snyder’s justice league on saturday and i just finished joss whedon’s.

A LIST OF ALL ADDITIONS/DIFFERENCES IN THE JOSS WHEDON JUSTICE LEAGUE. 

pray for me.

- terrible cgi mustache-less supes child iphone footage. have you ever fought a hippo?

- this batman intro with that guy from fight club to bait a parademon with fear? this whole concept that the parademons are just looking for scared people? not in the snyder movie.

- parademon explodes and leaves a mark of the three mother boxes (also completely new concept)

- the criminal is also the one who figures that superman being dead is the reason why they’re even here

- everybody knows segment about superman being dead, and everyone being fucking awful? racist guy, “i tried” homeless guy.

- wonder woman’s intro segment has been just obliterated. tiny snippets stitched together. and added that they’re doing this for alien reasons? had diana throw the bomb from the building.

- “i’m a believer” and then bracers smash. i feel like is a new line. and thats where the scene ends. no police, no checking people are okay, nothing else.

- bruce & arthur scene is also snippets stitched together. giving us a translation of the joke about bruce paying him. this whole added mural of arthur and the mother boxes is new as is pretty much the rest of the scene.

- alfred and bruce on the plane talking is new. mother boxes, barry allen knowledge and details about his dad and how hes in prison but barry says he’s innocent, what about diana? jokes about bruce being into diana. jokes about how she’s hot. victor is dead. one misses exploding wind up penguins.

- barry is signing in to see henry allen. barry uses his powers to be jokey and draws on an asshole guys face. sign in guard alerts bruce wayne and mocks the asshole guy.

- added in post dialogue from barry about how the investigation into his moms murder was botched.

- janitor at star labs apologizes “i never got to say, victor was a wonderful kid”

- this entire victor/silas scene is different. their story is completely changed. there is never any mention of victor’s mother. victor’s character is totally different. more aggressive and the whole thing is just. weird.

- 22 minutes in. themyscira finally appears. steppenwolf’s whole deal is more humanoid and like traditional human armor? obliterated into tiny snippets. only the few amazons who were in two pieces are shown. steppenwolf just easily breaks out of the cage and starts fighting the escaping amazons with his parademons.

- it seems like the amazons have no ability to fight them off. hippolyta does like zero fighting. added in lines about how when the unity happens they’ll all bow to steppenwolf and she will “love him. they all will.”

- lighting the warning fire, “listen to me diana” no explanation how she can shoot an arrow from themyscira to greece. jump cut to diana working to louvre. jump cut to “the fire at the shrine of the amazons.” “invasion.”

- aliens stole my husband “these aliens are going to ****ing probe him?!” segment

- lois at work, martha tells her she lost the farm, some guy asks lois for her source because he’s doing a story on the starlabs kidnapping thinks its political because those kids are always protesting, lois is doing fluff pieces about kitten grooming. martha says that clark said lois was going to bring home another pulitzer and she was the “thirstiest woman he ever met” …….”hungriest”

- victor is learning about his powers and has tapped into bruce’s cameras

- we’ve added in that some “noise” made the parademon “go crazy” when bruce was trying to catch it? he needs an edge against aliens so we’re trying to figure it out.

- this steppenwolf intro totally new, added that parademons are created by him? no mention of darkseid, bruce and diana walk and talk about mother boxes and steppenwolf. steppenwolf’s first retreat. swore that our alliances would crumble and the world would be covered by darkness and he’d return.

- bruce makes jokes. victor is just there. stalking them. like diana wouldn’t notice him 20 feet away from her.

- barry’s place we have added a… blackpink? music video? to the scene? why?

- barry makes more jokes. brunch. people are slow. even the same footage is cut differently. like super basic mid shots.

- this whole the computers get twitchy when they play footage of silas working on cyborg victor, new. talk to victor through the computer? new. diana is “old fashioned” and won’t talk to him if its not face to face. alfred says (off screen) “about time somebody did” after the line “it looks like you have a date”

- just realized that we’ve had cyborg in a hoodie and sweatpants this entire time. all of victor is once again, different. and just shitty. he’s angry and hates his powers.

- added alien shenanigans into the dumbass whose out on his fishing boat. aliens appear to have kryptonite? for….reasons? its now the aliens fault for this guy needing a rescue from aquaman. aquaman jokes.

- 44 minutes in, first thing about atlantis. steppenwolf just appears, whoops everyones ass including mera, who has not spoken. steppenwolf boom tubes out with the box. arthur checks in to make sure mera is alright because she “took a hell of a hit” the rest of their convo is snippets stitched together. arthur asks mera for “something” - the armor and ….5dent that willem dafoe gave him in the snyder version.

- whedon has added innocent “russians” who live in this chernobyl knockoff. parademons are flying everywhere. steppenwolf talks to the mother boxes and calls them Mother. we’re having our first look inside the reactor where he is placing the second mother box into that ya know. wall thing.

- “the kryptonian’s death has made everyone timid and they all stand alone” (men, amazons, atlanteans) all this steppenwolf dialogue is new and bad.

- we’ve added in that one of the witnesses to the kidnapped people is a little kid and they drew this batman looking thing. “world’s gone crazy, maybe he has too”

- victor is still in his hoodie combo and has come home to see that his dad is presumably kidnapped because his glasses are left

- the island where the kidnapped people are is “braxton island” and “gotham harbour” why these changes? i don’t know.

- did we do this camera shot of the tank coming in and everyone jumping off it onto the ground so we can see their asses? this feels distinctly whedon but i dont know.

- steppenwolf is just killing the kidnapped people if they dont tell him what he wants.

- added scene about barry being scared about things to bruce.

- we don’t go into this rescuing people with any plan at all. steppenwolf immediately recognizes that victor is made with a mother box. barry is just running people one at a time from the place they were just… out? victor is suddenly there (continuity error) added dialogue about steppenwolf’s axe being slick with the blood of diana’s sisters. they fight and he just knocks her down and tells his parademons to “finish her” bruce saves her with his tank thing and makes jokes. (RIDICULOUS)

bruce makes jokes.

- barry “saves diana” from falling debris (she would’ve been fine), and lands on her boobs, a classic joss whedon move. isn’t it funny.

- added steppenwolf dialogue about how the old gods died and therefore steppenwolf is better than diana. diana is a distraction, Mother is calling.

- more barry jokes. cyborg bails because the “change engine” is in danger. barry joke.

- added jokey scene with aquaman and batman.

- added scene about our “russian” family living in chernoybl. “who will come for them” daughter grabbed a can of raid.

- barry’s jokey entrance to the batcave. (i enjoy this scene) but it is still. whedon barry pretty different from snyder’s.

- hoodie cyborg gives the new history of man’s mother box (british found it in ww2, shelved it, brought to star labs after IT woke up when superman died, and THEN silas started dicking with it and used it on victor.) victor’s history is different. bruce is the one who comes up with raising superman. diana is against it. this whole scene is new and bad. diana calls him out on his guilt about being responsible for superman’s death. he turns around and says “what did steve trevor tell you that.” she pushes him and he calls her out with a very patronizing bullshit statement. this whole scene is new and on a badly done green screen.

- another new scene with bruce and alfred. energy gauntlet has been removed and its now a bluetooth speaker on a arm thing to make a warbly noise that scares the parademons.

- we detail bruce’s contingency plan. the team needs clark. yadda yadda.

- barry and cyborg’s conversation while digging up clark is totally different. cyborg is in his hoodie and an asshole who doesn’t care about anything. barry feels disrespectful about digging up clark. he tries to go for a fist bump which victor is not about and barry is like okay we’re not there yet….. “racially charged……” (WHY WHEDON WHY THIS)

- diana and bruce are on a crane? above star labs? for reasons? diana is only here for clark. and is pissed. we’re just walking into the ship in star labs. no concerns about anything else.

- we walk into the ship, the ship doesn’t have enough power to wake the box, barry is going to run fast and do it. we count down from five and thats it. clark is up in the skyline of the city and flies to the busted up monument. thats that entire ship scene.

- arthur freaks out that clark isn’t alright. barry jokes. cyborg’s armor is “stronger since the interface.” barry jokes.

- bruce shows up. he calls alfred for the “big gun” bad cgi clark speaks to bruce “i know you, you won’t let me live, you won’t let me die” “the world needs you” “but does it need you? tell me, do you bleed?”  lois gets out of the limo???? an unknown backseat with alfred and runs to clark. comedy moment with bruce “oh yeah something is definitely bleeding”

- arthur has a tantrum in the bat cave. diana sharpens her blade. arthur and victor snip at each other. barry jokes about his blood sugar. diana tells victor he can find the boxes because they’re made of the same thing. bruce asks arthur if he can talk to fish again. and see if he can find out where the boxes are using the water. yes. seriously.

- bruce is all banged up and is going to deal with that but DIANA is there and as a woman obviously she can care for him. this whole scene is about diana apologizing for being pissed at bruce and not stepping up to be a leader. this scene is stupid.

- added scene with bad cgi about lois asking clark why he won’t come in the house and what was it like coming back from the dead “itchy.” and how she wasn’t strong and he would be very disappointed in her because she wasn’t “lois lane, dedicated reporter.” its okay because he’s “the idiot who left and he’s back now and he’s going to make everything right.” we had to put it into text that she called his mom. and that she has to send him away to help bruce with his fate of the world shit. “no dying, and i get the exclusive” “yes ma’am” bad cgi.

- back to not russia and our chernboyl. things look completely different from the other version. we’re praising the unity. praise “to the mother of horrors” its look is very dragon age inquisition red lyrium emprise du lion.

- we’ve figured out where this is happening. we’ve got a few hours until the world is going to be changed. we’ve figured out there are people living in not chernobyl. victor will be able to make a ship break the laws of physics and get them to not chernobyl in time. because cyborg powers.

- victor is just going to pull the boxes apart because that will cause them to feed on each other and that’s it. arthur jokes and hits on diana. he’s sitting on the lasso and oversharing.

- not chernobyl. batman just shoots his way through the barrier and shoots the tower creating the shield dome down. easy peasy. he crashes his batplane and drives out of the wreckage with his batmobile and starts playing his parademon attracting whoop whoops. alfred jokes about how they might not have thought the whoop whoop noise through.

- diana is going to lead them in to find steppenwolf.

- the family living in not chernobyl is now fleeing their house as purple red lyrium tentacles whoosh at them (this is apparently the form the unity takes its terraforming….in this version) suddenly there are other people for once and they’re all running to their old american trucks to flee.

- jokes. they save batman. “no mr wayne, this is the team.” gotta have a jeremy irons presence in this final fight i guess? more jokes. i can’t explain how there are SO MANY JOKES? this final fight? there is no seriousness to it. every other moment is a joke or a bit.

- alfred tells batman that the red lyrium is spreading for miles, civilians are moving east and they’re not going to make it. batman tells barry to go run and help them.

- steppenwolf rips victor in half. because he’s not worth touching mother. “she is power and we’re all too weak to see the truth.”

- clark shows up “he’s a fan of truth. but he’s also a big fan of justice.” punch to steppenwolf. bad cgi mustache removal. clark is going to help with the civilians, also he’s better and faster than the flash. barry makes jokes. clark comes back to deal with steppenwolf because diana and arthur obviously can’t handle it.

- victor needs superman’s help to pull the boxes apart. he’s still got a poorly cgi removed mustache. the boxes blow up. clark and victor get blown to the ground. they both make some jokes that are alright. diana says she works with children.

- steppenwolf is still alive. supes freezes his axe, diana swords it to pieces. steppenwolf is now afraid? so the parademons are going to tear him apart and eat him? maybe? they’re all getting boom tube’d out of there. superman has a badly removed mustache. helmet falls to the ground.

- THE ONLY GOOD PART. CYBORG SAYS BOOYEAH. snyder should’ve kept that.

- the motherboxes somehow changed all their red lyrium into crazy alien plant growth somehow…..making the not chernobyl an acceptable place to live.

- bruce wayne bought the bank scene. added joke.

- barry got his job at the crime lab, added good word from “a friend.”

- lois is at work and doing voice over writing a monologue about darkness and light and hope.

- silas and victor are at star labs and working on his cyborg shit.

- arthur is swimming.

- barry is running.

- diana is sticking around after stopping armed robbery and leaving them tied up with her lasso so they just tell the cops all they want to know?

- same supes walk off and chest reveal only blue suit and then we actually show him flying off.

- changed the post credit scene - its now about lex telling slade that superman and co. are putting together their little “league” and shouldn’t we have “a league of our own?”

THE END.

guys. i know four hours is a long time. but its fucking worth it. the parts of these added things that are worth it? so little.

[allthecanadianpolitics]

Gerrit de Gooijer can look across his quiet street — the one with all the well-manicured lawns — and see the spot where the flag that curdled his blood was flying.

He first saw it on the afternoon of Friday, May 10. It happened to be exactly 79 years from the day the Nazis marched into his home country of the Netherlands and began starving and killing his people.  

"How many soldiers fought for years, how many soldiers gave their life, and then [to] see that bloody flag hanging up there? That was disgusting," he said, the hard edge of anger in his voice.

The 92-year-old and his wife, Truus, live in Kelliher, Sask., a tiny village of just over 200 people that made national headlines when a Nazi and a Confederate flag were hoisted over a local house.

Not much more than a day after de Gooijer saw the flag, it was gone. A man from outside the community claimed credit on social media for taking the flags down, posting a widely viewed video of the Nazi flag burning.

Police have said they are investigating this burning, but de Gooijer said he just felt happy to see the eyesore gone.

He spent five years watching men who wore the Swastika on their uniforms and cars rounding up other men. De Gooijer's brother-in-law had only been married six weeks when he was sent by the Nazis to a concentration camp, where he died.

De Gooijer couldn't believe it when he heard that police said it was not illegal to fly the flag. After looking it up, he saw the Criminal Code prohibits willful promotion of hatred. To him, the Nazi flag is that and more.

Why have Remembrance Day and say, 'Lest we forget'? he asked.

"At the same time, we allow those flags up. That's impossible."

Continue Reading.

[alguienenlamultitud]

Fitting The Description

In a joint research simulation conducted by the University of California and the University of Chicago where a police officer was confronted with a potentially dangerous suspect, studies found that participants fired on a “target more quickly when the target was African American than when White” (American Civil Liberties Union), regardless if the target was unarmed or armed. 

In the recreation, shooting bias was found to be higher among those who held strong cultural stereotypes characterizing African Americans as aggressive, violent and dangerous.

However, these assumptions, claiming to ‘fit the description’, are the only ones who are aggressive, violent, and dangerous. Alienating communities, undermining trust in law enforcement, and creating an atmosphere of fear are added offenses to the primary charge. 

The charge? Racial profiling. The discriminatory practice of targeting individuals based on race, ethnicity, religion or national origin for suspicion of crime, it results from decades of inequality and loose regulations.

The solution? Stricter regulations and mandatory seminars on preventing racial profiling.

“More than 240 years of slavery and 90 years of legalized racial segregation have led to systemic profiling” of African-Americans in today’s society, and the terrorist attacks on 9/11 have caused “members of Muslim, Arab, and South Asian communities” to be “profiled by airline personnel, federal law enforcement, and local police” (American Civil Liberties Union). A long and detailed history of racial profiling has effectively alienated communities from law enforcement, and occurrence of targeting members of these communities for ‘suspicious activity’ (commonly referred to as driving, walking, or bicycling while black or brown) only undermines the trust further. The lack of accountability measures as well as invasive algorithms such as PredPol and LASER reduces communities to characteristics and stereotypes.

This isn’t about meeting a quota.

According to the Southern Poverty Law Center, “when communities of color believe their residents are stopped, searched, and arrested or become subject to uses of force without a valid reason, ... individuals may be less willing to report crimes, provide tips to police, or otherwise cooperate with investigations for fear that police will misuse information.” In the eyes of these communities, without apparent valid reason, the distrust in law enforcement is deepened. Without proper training, supervised data collection, and accountability measures, reports and offenses repeat in a vicious cycle.

Although “race and ethnicity may be relevant factors” in describing a suspect, stopping a suspect on race or ethnicity alone constitutes racial profiling policies. Such fair law enforcement policies “must make clear that race and ethnicity may be used only in combination with other physical characteristics (e.g., gender, age, height, weight, and clothing) to match someone to a suspect description” (Southern Poverty Law Center).

During the 19th and 20th centuries in the eras of lynching and civil rights movements, “southern sheriffs sat idly by while racists like the Ku Klux Klan terrorized African Americans” (American Civil Liberties Union), even releasing African American suspects to the lynch mobs. 

Recently, an African-American man filed multiple complaints regarding an attack and property damage after moving into a white community. Local law enforcement “failed to respond to his repeated complaints until they arrested him for shooting his gun into the air, trying to disperse a hostile mob outside his home” (American Civil Liberties Union).

Invasive algorithms and loophole policies are just a few sources encouraging the incorporation of racial profiling. With racial profiling remaining a constant throughout the decades, it’s easy to overlook. But just like there is a reason behind the protest, there is a face behind the issue, and a story behind the story. Racial profiling has not, and is not affecting some imaginary group with no harm, no foul. It is affecting real people who have aspirations, hopes, and dreams. These are real people with real families, real careers, and very real fears. These are people we encounter every day, regardless if we’re aware of it or not. 

But stricter regulations and mandatory meetings aren’t enough. It’s easy for those who are generally unharmed by current events to turn a blind eye or ignore what’s going on. For them, it’s just another post to scroll by in their feed. For others, the story in that post is their reality.

Many like to scoff at the idea protesting. “It’s so unclassy!” they might say. Others might claim that it “simply causes chaos.” But unless you were taught how to react when encountering a police officer before you learned simple mathematics, you can’t condone protests.

This is reality. The shows you watch, the books you read, the news you hear on the radio? That’s all real. It’s not like in The Avengers where it’s in a fictional alternate universe. This is very real.

Aggressive, violent, dangerous? These are people we’re talking about, and race or ethnicity shouldn’t reduce them to a false stereotype. But to many, it does. Some agree. Some turn a blind eye. But what about when it happens to you? As a general public we agree that bullying is bad. So why is there a debate over whether or not we take action against the bullying, the systemic racism, the blatant mistreatment of Black people? Why is this even a debate?

References

“A Look at Racial Profiling.” BostonGlobe.com, The Boston Globe, 1 Aug. 2018, www.bostonglobe.com/metro/2015/11/01/what-are-arguments-for-and-against-racial-profiling/F0DlnqVZk7aUXolRuHc0LJ/story.html. Accessed 13 Mar. 2020.

Pollard, Barry. “Racial profiling was the subject of this San Diego city council committee hearing in 2014.” The San Diego Union-Tribune, 14 June 2019, https://www.sandiegouniontribune.com/opinion/story/2019-06-14/police-racial-profiling-equity-issues.

Racial Profiling: Definition | American Civil Liberties Union. https://www.aclu.org/other/racial-profiling-definition. Accessed 13 Mar. 2020.

Surana, Kavitha, et al. How Racial Profiling Goes Unchecked in Immigration Enforcement — ProPublica. ProPublica, 8 June 2018, www.propublica.org/article/racial-profiling-ice-immigration-enforcement-pennsylvania. Accessed 13 Mar. 2020. 

“10 Best Practices for Writing Policies Against Racial Profiling.” Southern Poverty Law Center, www.splcenter.org/20181023/10-best-practices-writing-policies-against-racial-profiling. Accessed 13 Mar. 2020.

[cryptovalid]

Watchmen: My favorite show of 2019

Now that I’ve watched HBO’s Watchmen in its entirety, I can safely say that it is by far my favorite show I’ve seen this year. The more I think about it though, the less it seems to offer a coherent statement about vigilantism, power and violence the way the original graphic novel did. I don’t think this makes it any less clever, bold or satisfying to watch, but Watchmen is more interested in playing with the weight and drama of themes than actually expressing a clear, useful thesis about them.

The show is a sequel to the graphic novel, taking place in 2019, when the fallout from the 1987 story finally comes home to roost. 

To give you some more context, I’ll be talking about Alan Moore’s 1986-1987 maxiseries of comics first, and then comparing it to the new television series narratively. In terms of acting and production values, I’d say that the show is great across the board, although your mileage may vary. This is doubly true of its narrative: I’m curious if the show is too confusing for people who’ve never read the comic, and the show doesn’t show a lot of reverence for the characters of the original. In my opinion, this is for the best and actually completely in the spirit of Alan Moore’s work. From here on out, There be Spoilers for the comic, movie and the tv series.

Watchmen (1987) by Alan Moore and Dave Gibbons is by far my absolute favorite superhero comic. It is the only graphic novel to be named as one of Time’s 100 best novels of the twentieth century. It’s certainly not true that it is the only graphic novel that deserves that kind of honor, but it is not on that list for bad reasons. This post would be too long if I listed all of Watchmen’s many achievements, so I will just say this: Watchmen investigates how the existence of masked vigilantes and superheroes would change the real world, and its answer is not positive. No matter how you slice it, in order to inflict violence on strangers or save the world based purely on your own moral compass, you have to be either hopelessly naive or narcissistic, sadistic, fascistic, fetishist, manic, or untethered from human experience in one way or the other. However you imagine them, superheroes escalate danger. They are not cooperative or peace-loving by their nature, the comic says. ‘Superheroes’ will do terrible things in the name of ‘saving the world’ or ‘doing the right thing’. In this sense, the book is thoroughly anti-utopian but also anti-superhero, and it commits to this by depicting all of its ‘protagonists’ as deeply flawed, ultimately dangerous or inept people. 

In terms of plot, the big twist that effects the show is that the smartest man in the world, the vigilante Ozymandias, predicts that nuclear armageddon is inevitable unless he convinces the global superpowers that there is a massive alien threat, making their feuds appear petty and risky by comparison. He literally kills millions of people with a genetically engineered giant monster that he teleports to New York, not including the dozens of murders to prepare the ground and cover up this fact. The fear that more monsters like this could appear prevents nuclear war at the last second, but another vigilante named Rorshach figured out Ozymandias’ plan and wanted to expose it, which would undo its intended peacemaking effect. He was killed, but his notes survived.  

In the end, the only vigilante with actual superpowers, Dr. Manhattan, is so far removed from human experience because of his godlike powers and his nonlinear perception of time, that he seems to retreat from Earth itself, expressing a desire to create life elsewhere.      

This is the backdrop against which Watchmen (2019) frames itself: what would that alternate history look like about 20 years later? But instead of focusing on the evils that vigilantism and superpowers would create, this sequel puts race and policing at the core of its narrative. The main protagonists: Angela Abar, Will Reeves, Laurie Blake and Wade Tillman are all cops and all of them are at one point in their lives masked vigilantes. They are also pitted against white supremacist terrorists, and the show depicts them as regularly violating the constitutional rights of suspects and killing lots of people in justifiable situations. The show depicts both cops and civilians in both real and historical race riots.  

But the more I think about it, the less I can identify a coherent thesis about the origins or nature of racism or the morality of extra-judicial violence. It seems to say ‘violating a person’s human rights is alright as long as they’re racist’, and I mean, I can’t be too mad about that, but it also implies that the cops are basically good, that it is possible to root out specific racist conspiracies and that’s all that’s needed to set things right. There’s a definite assumption that most of the time, we can just trust cops to have integrity. The show rarely frames unmitigated violence as a systemic issue; even when the government is implicated. The protagonists are also relatable and sympathetic, and their victory against the white supremacist conspiracy is without any real moral complications or ironic personal costs. This show, unlike its source material, is pro-vigilante. Or at most neutral on the subject.   

Its message about racism is more straightforward, but also a little hollow. Racist violence is shown viscerally, but also roundly condemed, ridiculed, and avenged by the protagonists. But that’s really as deep as it goes. All racists in this show are openly and stereotypically Southern whites. There is very little exploration or covert or insidious racism: there is a clear divide between literal neo-KKK types and antiracist avengers, with little ambiguity in between. We are not really shown what drives racists to be racist. The most motivation racists are given is a resentment over two attempts at improving the world: Reparations for the Tulsa Massacre, and the aforementioned plot to stop the Cold War by faking extradimensional invasion. Not that I’m begging for a humane portrayal of racist terrorists, but it does make it extremely easy for actual, less obvious white supremacists to ignore any criticism because ‘at least they’re not like the Seventh Kavalery’. It in short, doesn’t give viewers any special insight into racism and how to deal with it in the real world.

What Watchmen does do beautifully is representation. The first masked vigilante, Hooded Justice, who in the comic was a clear reference to a Klansman, is reimagined as the victim of a threatened lynching, who fights his attackers still wearing the noose and hood they put on him. He then pretends to be white to gain the support and cover he needs to be a vigilante. This man, Will Reeves, named himself after his childhood hero, the historical inspiration for the Lone Ranger, Bass Reeves. As a child, he was smuggled out from the Bombing of Tulsa in the trunk of a carriage, much like Moses or Superman. We later discover that HJ is bisexual and is essentially strung along for years by the media-savvy Captain Metropolis for publicity purposes and sex, and ends up desillusioned by his white allies. We also learn that Angela Abar, the de facto main character, is in fact his granddaughter, and she becomes involved in his decades-spanning plans to root out the racist conspiracy that the plot revolves around.

Perhaps even more interesting is the decision to integrate Doctor Manhattan into this sequel as a jewish and a black man. Rather than simply recasting the part, the show frames the revelation in a way that Dr. Manhattan might experience it: out of order, but also clearly telegraphed. The show uses this to characterize Dr. Manhattan as someone whose decisions do not adhere to standard causality. Why does he start to woo Angela Abar in the first place? Because from his perspective, he’s always been in love with her. Just like nothing ever ends, it doesn’t really begin from his perspective either. One day, he walks into A Bar and starts explaining to Angela Abar that they will be in a relationship for ten years, which wil then end in tragedy. While she is understandably skeptical, Regina King and Yahya Abdul-Mateen II really manage to sell both the frustrating absurdity and the transcendant romance of this idea. In the end, Osterman chooses to take the shape of a dead man based purely on the fact that Angela is most attracted to, and goes to great lengths to lose is powers and become human again, as a black man named Calvin Abar, who we first meet as Angela’s charming stay-at-home husband and father to their adopted children. The fact that he is Dr. Manhattan all along is revealed to us in my favorite sequence in the whole show. We, the audience, fall in love with both the husband as well as the God, Jon Osterman, as both are vulnerable and honest about who they are. Even though everyone knows it can’t last. These scenes are both heartbreaking and beautiful, and are foreshadowed masterfully from the beginning. This is what I mean when I say the show is clever. 

The dialogue is witty and the cinematography, editing and plotting do a subtle job of worldbuilding. There are very few exposition dumps and characters rarely do or say things just to help the plot along; they are always driven by their own motivations rather than those the viewer might prefer in their hurry to learn more.

As a result, characters feel smart and their personalities and relationships develop more naturally. From Jeremy Irons’ Ozymandias to Hong Chau’s Lady Trieu to Jean Smart’s Laurie Blake, they all come across as clearly defined assholes with a charismatic competence.   

The world and its history also unfold at their own pace. This can be confusing in the first couple of episodes. It isn’t explained why cops wear masks, what ‘Redfordations’ are, or why squids rain from the sky often enough that a siren goes off whenever it happens. Instead, viewers piece a lot of it together from context. The details make it feel very believable. It makes me feel like I’m discovering an alternate history the way a lost time traveler might.

In the end, it is not the themes that make this version of Watchmen so enjoyable. Its the intricate details of its world and the interactions between its characters that make Watchmen 2019 so fun to watch. And as far as on the nose messages go, ‘vaporize as many racists as possible‘ isn’t that bad.  

[bountyofbeads]

Opinion: A letter to Kurdish soldiers from a US military wife

https://www.cnn.com/2019/10/17/opinions/letter-to-kurdish-soldiers-from-military-wife-opinion/index.html

PLEASE READ 📖 these 3 pieces as you consider voting for Donald Trump. 👇🤔😢😭😭😭

A letter to Kurdish soldiers from a US military wife

Published Oct 17, 2019 | CNN | Posted October 18, 2019 |

Editor's Note: This article was written by the wife of a Special Operations soldier, who has served throughout the Middle East. CNN is not revealing her identity at her request. The views expressed in this commentary are her own. View more opinion at CNN.

(CNN) - Dear Kurdish soldiers,

You don't know me, but I have known of you for most of my adult life. When my military husband and I quickly married, knowing he was deploying to the Middle East to be part of the 2003 invasion of Iraq, I feared what he and his Special Operations unit would face when they arrived.

How bad would the fighting be? How long would they be gone? Would he survive?

Months later, he returned and recounted to me what he could about his experience. I asked how he had made it through. He replied, "We had help. We had the Kurds."

He told me stories of how the Kurdish people in Northern Iraq supported the troops, advised them, stood by them, fought shoulder to shoulder with them in combat, and became allies and friends. And I became grateful -- immensely, unwaveringly, and forever grateful for you.

Since then, the word "Kurds" in my home has meant something. It has meant "ally" and "friendship."

There are pictures of Iraqi Kurds alongside my husband and fellow soldiers in our home. I have a coffee mug with depictions of female Syrian Kurdish soldiers on it that I proudly use to remind me of you. My children play soccer in their Kurdistan jerseys.

The Kurdish people are not nameless, faceless people across the world. You hold a place of honor and respect in our home. It's important to me that all of you know that. I owe you so much. My husband is home safe today after years of fighting and I know you helped make that happen.

But now, I watch the news in horror. I see promises broken, progress destroyed, years of hard work and unimaginable sacrifice gone in a tweet. I see allies betrayed, their faces in my picture frame. While watching the news, my children turn to me and ask if those are our friends and I say yes. They have looks of confusion on their faces.

I can't imagine what your families are going through. I can't imagine their fear. I can't imagine these things because for the last 17 years you have fought to help us keep an attack off our soil, and I know that has now compromised your safety. It breaks my heart.

Where I come from, a person's word means something. Our honor and integrity are everything, as I know yours are to you. To read in international newspapers that the United States, my country, has abandoned the Kurds is absolutely heartbreaking.

Hasty decisions like this have not only put your people in terrible danger, they make the situation for our soldiers there on the Syrian-Turkish border much more difficult. My husband was with you on that border not long ago and I can't imagine what our soldiers' families are feeling right now.

And it's not just safety. It's hard to imagine how difficult it is for American soldiers to hear a partner and ally's calls for help and not be allowed to answer them. It's also hard to imagine you having to turn to Putin or the Assad regime for support because you could no longer count on Americans to keep their promise.

I worry for the safety of you and your families. I worry about the instability of the region and what that could mean for the future. I worry about the thousands of ISIS fighters we worked so hard to put in prisons, and who you must walk away from as you defend yourselves. I can't imagine the threat that now poses for us all. I see the look on my husband's face when he watches the news at the end of the day. The only phrase that comes to mind is "I'm sorry."

I write you today, on behalf of my family, to say thank you for everything you have done for us. Thank you for your friendship, for keeping your word and fighting alongside us, for staying the course year after year. Thank you for keeping my husband safe so he could come back home to me and my children. You have my sincerest prayers today that you too may safely return to yours. Thank you to your families that sacrificed without you, so you could make this partnership happen.

I pray we return to your side, that we stand by you, and that this has not all been in vain.

Forever yours,

A Grateful Wife

********

On Syria, Trump is pushing Republicans too far

Opinion by SE Cupp |Updated 10:00 AM ET, October 18, 2019 | CNN | Posted October 18, 2019 |

Editor's Note: SE Cupp is a CNN political commentator and the host of "SE Cupp Unfiltered." This piece has been adapted from her Saturday evening show monologue. The views expressed in this commentary are solely hers. View more opinion articles on CNN.

(CNN) - Defending the indefensible has become a cottage industry for Republican lawmakers in the era of Trump.

In the days and weeks surrounding President Donald Trump's decision last year to enforce the separation and caging of asylum-seeking children at the southern border, Republican lawmakers were largely supportive of him.

In the days after a baffling news conference last year in which President Trump, standing alongside Vladimir Putin, parroted the duplicitous Russian position that it did not meddle in our elections -- even though his own intelligence community had said the opposite -- Republican lawmakers shrugged.

In the days and weeks after the release of the Mueller report earlier this year, which revealed multiple examples of the President's attempts to engage in obstructive conduct, Republican lawmakers were defiantly behind him.

And in the days after the news about President Trump's alleged attempt to coerce the Ukrainian president to investigate his political rival (Trump denied that was his purpose) -- news that unleashed a stunning flood of evidence, transcripts, testimony, texts, and whistleblowers and ultimately resulted in an impeachment inquiry -- the GOP circled the wagons around their President.

Those are just a few of the many embarrassing episodes from the past few years where Republican lawmakers had opportunities to condemn the indefensible, and many have chosen not to. Many, in fact, have decided to abandon their conservative principles, their ethical and constitutional obligations -- not to mention their sense of common decency -- to justify Trump's odious behavior and deleterious decisions.

One issue, however, has proven surprisingly perilous for the President, a rare pressure point that has caused Republican lawmakers to summon courage and roundly condemn him: Syria.

While President Trump hopes the announcement Thursday of a 120-hour ceasefire in Turkey, which Turkey says is "not a ceasefire," might appease his many detractors, much of the damage is already done.

In the days after President Trump's disastrous, immoral, inexplicable decision to pull US troops out of Kurdish-controlled Northern Syria, unleashing the Turkish army on an overwhelmed US ally, sending untold numbers of ISIS prisoners back into the Sahel to reorganize, and handing some of the world's worst actors the keys to a broke-down and dangerous palace, Republicans were quick to voice their disapproval.

Even his staunchest allies, including South Carolina Sen. Lindsey Graham, have freely rebuked him. Graham told an NBC News reporter that he would "become President Trump's worst nightmare" on Syria if he didn't reverse course: "This is a defining moment for President Trump. He needs to up his game."

It wasn't the first time he's drawn this reaction: When Trump first threatened to pull troops out of Syria in late 2018, defying his generals and security advisers, Republicans were stunned. Graham told reporters, "If Obama had done this, we'd be going nuts right now: how weak, how dangerous."

He and other Republican lawmakers, including Sens. Tom Cotton, Marco Rubio and Joni Ernst, signed a letter telling Trump to reconsider.

That episode, in fact, led two of Trump's most important figures in the Syria conflict, Gen. James Mattis and Brett H. McGurk, the American envoy to the coalition fighting the Islamic State, to resign their posts.

And now, as a quickly spiraling disaster in Northern Syria grows worse, Republicans have come together again in a rare reproval of the President. The House of Representatives voted Wednesday to condemn Trump for pulling troops out of Syria to allow for a Turkish invasion by a vote of 354-60, with 129 members of his own party voting in favor of the measure.

It's hard not to notice the glaring singularity of Syria as an issue that, sui generis, unlocks the Republican caucus from Trump's otherwise vise-like grip.

One cynical explanation for this is that foreign policy issues are usually a safer space for dissent, at least in the short term. Lawmakers assume constituents back home are more concerned about immediate and pressing domestic issues, especially during an election cycle, and many are likely gambling that Trump isn't going to unleash his primary attack apparatus against them over a Syria disagreement.

But the other explanation is that the consequences of Trump's impulsive, ill-informed, politically craven and incomprehensible decision to abandon our Kurdish allies, empower Turkey's Erdogan and Syria's Assad, dissolve our containment of ISIS and put hundreds of thousands of lives in the balance are just too much to stomach for Republican lawmakers.

They have little to gain at home for condemning Trump's actions overseas. Voters are generally apathetic to foreign policy issues. In a Gallup poll from earlier this year that asked what voters think is the most important problem facing the country today, issues like immigration, health care, gun crime and the environment led the lists. Foreign policy got just 1% of the vote, and both ISIS and Russia received 0%.

So the rebuke of Trump wins Republican lawmakers no points in their own districts, at least in the immediate future.

But the long gaze of history is far less forgiving.

When the fog of war clears, voters do tend to hold major foreign policy blunders against elected officials, even in their own party. See: the Vietnam, Iraq and Afghanistan wars. Republicans know that the actions Trump is taking today in the Middle East could haunt him and the GOP for years to come.

And it's not just the folly of war they're worried about. It's the significant humanitarian crisis this will manifest, adding to the one that already exists in that region. There's the long-term threat to our own national security when ISIS and other terror actors regain a footing in Europe and even here at home. There's the destabilizing effect this has on important US allies like Israel. And there's the breakdown of trust among our allies all over the world.

All of that is -- right now -- staring GOP lawmakers in the face.

It should tell us something that Republicans, who are usually so protective of this President, despite an ever-crescendoing wave of bad behavior and bad decisions, have spoken out so vocally and unilaterally against him when it came to Syria. That's how fraught, how devastating and potentially disastrous this issue is both politically and practically.

And that's a problem for Trump. Because if he decides not to listen, it's an excuse for Republican lawmakers, who may have secretly been looking for an opportunity, to break ranks, and at the worst possible time for the President -- when impeachment is actually on the table.

For all those reasons, Trump should be extremely concerned. He doesn't like to be told no, and he doesn't like defectors. But on this issue, perhaps more than any other, he would be wise to listen to the majority of his own party telling him to stop. Otherwise, it may just spell the end for his presidency.

Correction: An earlier version of this commentary incorrectly stated the duration of the ceasefire in Turkey announced Thursday. It is a 120-hour ceasefire.

*********

What Mick Mulvaney's stunning admission tells us about Trump

Opinion by Paul Begala | Published Oct 17, 2019 | CNN | Posted October 18, 2019 |

Editor's Note: Paul Begala, a Democratic strategist and CNN political commentator, was a political consultant for Bill Clinton's presidential campaign in 1992 and served as a counselor to Clinton in the White House.

(CNN) - There is a bit of a brother-and-sisterhood former senior White House aides. Despite deep political and policy differences, I respect those who choose to serve. The White House can be a dream job -- it was the best professional experience and highest honor of my life. But it can also be, as President Clinton told me the first time I set foot in the Oval Office, "the crown jewel of the federal penal system."

My heart usually goes out to White House staffers. The hours are long, the challenges great. So it is with no joy that I offer this assessment of Mick Mulvaney's performance running Donald Trump's White House: it stinks.

Acting White House chief of staff Mulvaney needs to start acting like a chief of staff.

In his press briefing today, Mulvaney revealed himself to be a yes-man when this President needs someone who can tell him no.

The most important, most difficult, most loyal two words a White House staffer can use are: "No, sir."

President Trump is on his third chief of staff and diminishes and insults Mr. Mulvaney by making him merely "Acting" chief of staff. He's on his fourth national security adviser, his third press secretary, and his third defense secretary. Trump burns through people, it seems, until he gets what he wants. What's more important is what he needs -- what we all need. And that is a White House staff that will tell him to knock it off.

When the President wants to politicize national security, corrupting it for his partisan needs, the only acceptable response is "No, sir." When he seeks to take Ukraine policy away from Ukraine policymakers and give it to his unappointed, unconfirmed, unaccountable private lawyer, Rudy Giuliani, the only acceptable response is "No, sir." When the President acts as if he is above the law and beyond the Constitution, directing a global summit and millions of dollars to one of his golf resorts, the only acceptable response is "No, sir."

Instead, Mr. Mulvaney debases himself. When ABC's Jonathan Karl asked him about the clear quid pro quo in Mr. Trump's dealings with Ukraine, Mulvaney sniffed, "We do that all the time with foreign policy." That's the problem, Mick. The Corleone family used extortion all the time, too. Didn't make it right. Mulvaney was even more dismissive of those who decry political desires overruling security interests: "Get over it."

He was just getting started. Mr. Mulvaney, defending the indefensible grift of President Trump ordering that the G-7 summit be at his Trump National resort in Doral, Florida, laughably claimed of Mr. Trump, "He's not making money off of this."

Baloney. Trump's decision will flood his resort with federal funds for security, communications, and a host of other needs. Advance teams from around the world will fill the resorts' rooms for weeks, maybe months. Foreign governments will spend huge sums -- generating profits that will line Trump's pockets.

This is precisely what the Constitution forbids in Article I, Section 9, when it states that no one occupying federal office can accept an emolument -- which is profit -- from a "King, Prince or foreign State." (Incidentally, Pulitzer Prize-winning investigative journalist David Fahrenthold, of the Washington Post, has reported that revenue at Trump's Doral resort fell 13.8% from 2016 to 2017, and net operating income fell 62%.)

No sir. That's what you say. No sir, you can't shake down Ukraine for dirt on Joe Biden. No, sir, you can't withhold military aid if the Ukrainians don't embrace a nitty right-wing conspiracy theory. No, sir, you can't call on China to interfere in our elections the way you called on Russia to. No sir, you can't spend millions of taxpayer dollars at your own resort. No sir, you can't reap profits from foreign governments spending millions at your resort either. No sir, you're not above the law.

Those words never seem to emerge from Mr. Mulvaney's mouth. Far from being a public servant, the acting chief of staff revealed himself to be a throne-sniffer of the worst order. If he were any more of a toady, he'd be catching flies with his tongue.

[fletchermarple]

Have you written about the Petit Family Murders? There was a “People Investigates” episode that I saw recently and I am in shock. I understand the backlash with the police as they had at least two chances to save this family and I believe they failed. What do you think?

I haven’t written about them, but @congenitaldisease has a detailed post about that case. I watched the episode you mean and I share your sentiments. It really is a shocking case, and since I’m terrified of home invasions, it’s especially disturbing to me. I would suggest, if you haven’t already, that you watch the HBO Documentary The Cheshire Murders (it’s on YouTube) and check out the book The Rising, by Ryan D’Agostino, which focuses on Dr. William Petit, the only survivor of the horrible crime.

I do understand the backlash against police, but hindsight is 20/20. It’s unquestionable that they made several judgement errors, that they took too long to act. Could things have turned out better for the Petit family if they had barged in the house instead of hanging outside of it for half an hour? Probably, but we can’t say for sure. If anything, this shows police need better training, especially in crisis situations. We also have to remember that often (law abiding) cops are burdened with protocols and rules they have to follow, and it limits their action range a lot. That’s something that needs to be looked at, but the United States has a lot of paradoxical stances when it comes to the police force.

Ultimately, in my eyes Steven Hayes and Joshua Komisarjevsky are the only ones to blame. Police’s actions (or inaction) did not cause them to invade the Petit’s home. It didn’t cause Hayes to rape and strangle Jennifer Hawke-Petit, and Komisarjevsky to rape 11 year old Michaela Petit and photograph it on his phone. It didn’t cause them to kill Michaela and her sister Hayley by starting a fire at the house. Don’t let police’s inefficency in the midst of an uncommon and rather unclear situation at the time to distract you from the real culprits here.

[thinkveganworld]

For anybody interested, the following is from an article I wrote in ‘06 about the phony war on terror and ways the war has been used to eliminate civil liberties, justify torture and erode democracy.  My article was published at the late Robert Parry’s Consortium News, Online Journal (now Intrepid Report)  and other Internet sites.  This is a look at fairly recent history, and it shows the extent to which government will lie to the public to deceive us to support war and other unsavory policies.   

Robert Dreyfuss covers national security for Rolling Stone.  He interviewed nearly a dozen former high-ranking counterterrorism officials about Bush's approach to the war on terrorism. In his article, "The Phony War," (Rolling Stone, 9/21/06) Dreyfuss says these officials conclude:

· The war on terror is bogus.  Terrorism shouldn't be treated as if it were a nation to be battled with the military, but should instead be fought with police work and intelligence agencies.

· Terrorism is not an enemy, but a method.  Even if the United States were to wipe out every terrorist cell in the world today, terrorism would be back tomorrow.

· Bush lacks a clear understanding of the nature of the "enemy" and has no real strategy for dealing with them.

· The Bush administration confuses the issue by grouping "Al Qaeda" with everything from Iraq's resistance movement to states such as Syria and Iran.

· Today, there's virtually no real "Al Qaeda threat" to Americans.

· Bush's policies have spawned a new generation of "amateur terrorists," but there are few of them, and they're not likely to pose a major threat to the U.S.

· Though Bush has said he will fight his "war" until every last terrorist is eliminated, terrorism can never be defeated, merely "contained and reduced."

Dreyfuss says, "In the short term, the cops and spies can continue to do their best to watch for terrorist threats as they emerge, and occasionally, as in London, they will succeed.  But they are the first to admit that stopping a plot before it can unfold involved, more than anything, plain dumb luck."

Not only has the Bush administration falsely characterized and exaggerated the threat of terrorism; they have gone out of their way to mislead the public by claiming credit for preventing attacks.  Dreyfuss points out that although Bush has claimed we've fended off 10 terrorist plots since 9/11, "on closer examination all 10 are either bogus or were to take place overseas."

Dreyfuss also notes that, although in 2002 the Bush administration leaked to the press that Al Qaeda had 5,000 "sleepers" in the U.S., there were, in fact, none.  (Or, as Dreyfuss says, not a single one has been found.)  If the administration believes the facts bolster their case for a war on terrorism, why do they find it necessary to leak false information?

The administration has done little to secure U.S. borders, ports, airports and nuclear facilities.  What could logically explain their inattention to these vulnerabilities if they believe a terrorist threat here is likely?  Bush has said he'll do anything it takes in order to protect the American people.  Why hasn't he secured our nuclear facilities?    

Exaggerating the terrorist threat does give the Bush team an excuse to seize more power for the Executive and shred the Constitution.  In an article for Foreign Affairs (September/October 2006), political science professor John Mueller supports Dreyfuss's view that the war on terrorism is bogus.

Mueller points out that not only have there been no terrorist incidents here in the past five years, but there were none in the five years before 9/11.  Mueller asks:  "If it is so easy to pull off an attack and if terrorists are so demonically competent, why have they not done it?  Why have they not been sniping at people in shopping centers, collapsing tunnels, poisoning the food supply, cutting electrical lines, derailing trains, blowing up oil pipelines, causing massive traffic jams, or exploiting the countless other vulnerabilities that, according to security experts, could be so easily exploited?"

He also bolsters Dreyfuss's conclusion that the Bush administration can't take credit for the fact that we haven't been attacked again.  He says, "the government's protective measures would have to be nearly perfect to thwart all such plans.  Given the monumental imperfection of the government's response to Hurricane Katrina, and the debacle of FBI and National Security Agency programs to upgrade their computers to better coordinate intelligence information, that explanation seems far-fetched."

Mueller addresses Bush's irrational argument that we're "fighting terrorists in Iraq so we don't have to fight them here."  He points out that terrorists with Al Qaeda sympathies have managed to carry out attacks in a variety of countries (Egypt, Jordan Turkey, the United Kingdom), not merely in Iraq.

He adds that a reasonable explanation for the fact that no terrorists have attacked since 9/11 is that the terrorist threat "has been massively exaggerated."  He notes that "it is worth remembering that the total number of people killed since 9/11 by Al Qaeda or Al Qaeda-like operatives outside of Afghanistan and Iraq is not much higher than the number who drown in bathtubs in the United States in a single year, and that the lifetime chance of an American being killed by international terrorism is about one in 80,000 - about the same chance of being killed by a comet or a meteor."

Although Bush's justification for the war on terror has been illogical and deceptive, the administration has used it as an excuse to abuse the U.S. military in Iraq, tear down our system of government at home and seize power on his own behalf.  

Can George W. Bush be trusted with absolute power?  Here are some things he has done with his unchecked power:

· Stolen two presidential elections.

· Exaggerated and falsely characterized the terrorist threat.

· Misled the country into war with Iraq.

· Urged the U.S. intelligence agencies to fix the intelligence around the Iraq war policy (as confirmed by the Downing Street Memo and other sources) in order to mislead the Congress and public into supporting war with Iraq.

· Abused human rights by promoting the use of torture and setting up virtual gulags.

· Suspended habeas corpus for some.

· Tried to silence political opposition by pronouncing them "weak on terrorism" or somehow "with the terrorists," and

· Placed himself above the law by issuing more legislation-challenging signing statements (around 800) than all of his predecessors put together.

Bush's unnecessary invasion of Iraq alone has cost nearly 3,000 American lives. An October 11, 2006 article by Greg Mitchell at Editor and Publisher says that a new study from the Johns Hopkins Bloomberg School of Public Health, "suggests that more than 600,000 Iraqis have met a violent or otherwise war-related end since the U.S. arrived in March 2003."

The Bush administration's policies have not only resulted in high death counts, but also in widespread, out of control torture.  A September 22, 2006 Christian Science Monitor report says:

"The United Nation's special investigator on torture said Thursday that torture may now be worse in Iraq than it was during the regime of deposed leader Saddam Hussein.  The Associated Press reports that Manfred Nowak, who was making a brief to the United Nations Human Rights Council about the treatment of detainees at the U.S. prison in Guantanamo Bay Cuba, said the torture situation in Iraq was 'totally out of hand.'"

The CS Monitor mentions the fact that the recent compromise between the Bush White House and dissident Republicans (including Senator John McCain) allows torture to continue.  The article quotes a Washington Post piece:

"The bad news is Mr. Bush, as he made clear yesterday, intends to continue using the CIA to secretly detain and abuse certain terrorist suspects…It's hard to credit the statement by [McCain] yesterday that 'there's no doubt that the integrity and letter and spirit of the Geneva Conventions have been preserved.'  In effect, the agreement means that U.S. violations of international human rights law can continue as long as Mr. Bush is president, with Congress's tacit assent."

Congress has given Bush a blank check as he's bulldozed toward an imperial presidency.  We have the outward forms of democratic institutions such as Congress and a so-called free press.  However, the people currently managing those institutions behave as if they're being forced to serve a totalitarian dictator.

A perfect example of this surrender to Bush's virtual despotism is Congress's and the mainstream media's compliance regarding Bush's Military Commissions Act. Congress has done little to challenge Bush, and, overall, the press is eerily silent.

In The Rise And Fall Of The Third Reich, William L. Shirer said the Reich Press Law of October 4, 1933, ordered editors not to publish (among other things) anything which "tends to weaken the strength of the German Reich or offends the honor and dignity of Germany."  According to Shirer, Max Amman, Hitler's top sergeant during the war and head of the Nazi Party's publishing firm and financial head of its press said that after the Nazis seized power in 1933, it was "a true statement to say that the basic purpose of the Nazi press program was to eliminate all the press which was in opposition to the party."

The U.S. mainstream press doesn't have to be coerced by a government Press Law to avoid publicly opposing Bush's most egregious policies.  Television news networks, in particular, have voluntarily held back serious scrutiny.  They have not only failed to discuss the recent Military Commissions Act at length, but in the run-up to the Iraq war, liberal talk show host Phil Donahue and comedian Bill Maher were fired for challenging the White House spin about Iraq and the 9/11 attacks.

Shirer also describes the ease with which the German Reichstag gave Hitler the power to change the nature of Germany's parliamentary democracy.  He writes:

"One by one, Germany's most powerful institutions now began to surrender to Hitler and to pass quietly, unprotestingly, out of existence…It cannot be said they went down fighting.  On May 19, 1933, the Social Democrats - those who were not in jail or in exile - voted in the Reichstag without a dissenting voice to approve Hitler's foreign policy."

Shirer concludes:  "The one-party totalitarian state had been achieved with scarcely a ripple of opposition or defiance, and within four months after the Reichstag had abdicated its democratic responsibilities."

The U.S. Congress, like the German Reichstag, has abdicated its democratic responsibilities by granting Bush an inordinate amount of power - "with scarcely a ripple of opposition or defiance."  The U.S. press has abandoned its role as democracy's watchdog by failing to question this development.   Both of these institutions have failed the American people.

Considering Bush is using the war on terror to justify seizing undue power, both Congress and the media should question his reasoning and offer opposition.  Just as they didn't effectively challenge the administration's shifting excuses for attacking Iraq, these institutions haven't scrutinized Bush's claims about the need for the Military Commissions Act and the apparently endless war on terrorism.

Among things Congress and the media should challenge is George W. Bush's false claim that the United States does not torture.  In an article published at the CommonDreams.org site, journalist Molly Ivins reports that in one case of death from torture by Americans, the military at first said the prisoner's death was caused by a heart attack.  Ivins adds that the coroner later said the heart attack occurred after the prisoner "had been beaten so often on his legs that they had 'basically been pulpified.'"

She adds that the Bush administration's officially sanctioning torture "throws out legal and moral restraints as the president deems necessary -- these are fundamental principles of basic decency, as well as law."  Ivins isn't inclined to hyperbole, yet she says of Americans' passive acceptance of this new law:  "Do not pretend to be shocked when the world begins comparing us to the Nazis."     Future generations will wonder why the U.S. Congress and mainstream press helped Bush build up an imperial presidency and eliminate Constitutional protections.  Coming generations will also ask why  there were so many who failed to notice the obvious holes in Bush's logic and why so many turned a blind eye to his numerous false assertions and cruel policies.  They'll wonder why so many supported, whether by direct action or by silence, the Bush administration's changing the fundamental nature of the democratic Republic we were given by America's founders, based on the flimsy excuse of fighting a war on terrorism - a "war" Bush defines falsely and fights ineffectively.

Generations to come might ask why this president who lied so often, about Iraq and other critical matters, was ever entrusted with enough power to damage this country's founding principles and wage endless, unprovoked war on other nations.  If Congress and the media would ask these questions now, they might prevent Bush from doing further harm.  This might save many lives, prevent much unnecessary suffering and possibly steer this country out of its present darkness.

[louisetakesphotos]

Well dear Tumblr community, it’s time to fill you in on quite the misadventure.  Let me tell you a tale. A tale of woe, a tale of heartbreak, a tale of schlemeils and schlimazels. Of a thing known as the Blitz (a string of constant bad luck).The tale begins in Bangkok, with hardly enough sleep my human, known affectionately as Chaim, and I were ready to jump on a bus to Cambodia. With only 2 minutes to spare he decided to get money out at the ATM, alas the ATM had a different idea and his card was swallowed up into the black abyss of another countries banking system, never to be seen again. Because the universe was trying to make it fairly obvious it was playing a joke on us, that was the moment the skies opened and the first rain in several months poured forth. The bus pulled up and knowing my visa was expiring the next day we decided to get on it. Even as my stomach muscles clenched, I kept assuring him, 'I've got you man, I've got you.' 600m up the road we realised the error of our ways and we jumped off the bus, knowing we needed to cancel his card before we spent 12 hours making our way to a new country. Out we jumped into the downpour. This wasn't just an ordinary downpour, this was a downpour in Khoa San Road, the scummiest, filthiest place in all of Thailand. Water was flooding down the street, it was up to our knees and our shoes kept falling off, so eventually we said ‘to hell with it all’ took them off and walked barefoot through the minefield of unknown substances stuck to the ground. As I took my first step on the slippery sidewalk I saw a rat scuttle past, followed by an army of centipedes and cockroaches. With all my worldly possessions getting soaked on my back we finally made it back to our guesthouse. I turned to Chaim and assured him yet again ‘it’s ok, I have a card. I’ve got you till you can order another one.’So away we went the next day, with blue skies the universe shined it’s agreement down on us ‘Yes Louise and Chaim, you made the right decision, this was a small upset in an otherwise beautiful adventure to a new country. Everything will be fine. Fine I say!' The universe desperately assured us, trying and succeeding to lull us into a false sense of security. We arrived at the border to discover what a filthy liar our fair universe was and realised we were currently halfway through a scam. Pay them to organise a Cambodian visa, or get left behind and have to organise our own way to Siem Reap. We'd forgotten what it was like in developing world countries, so we begrudgingly agreed to just pay the extra money and be done with it.'We'll be in Cambodia soon, then our luck will turn, won't it?' We asked each other hopefully. ALAS, it was not to be. Alas the universe, the simulation, the author of whatever strange novel we're apparently characters in decided that no, the plot would be better if our luck stayed down, and so I walked over to a nearby ATM machine to get money out. Telling Chaim over and over, it’s ok, it’s ok, I’ve got you, I’ve got you. We’re going to have a great time, god I can’t wait to get into Cambodia. Our cambodian 'friend' who was organising our visas, who’d assured us he had our best interests at heart came up and agreed and agreed, oh yes thats a good amount to get out, oh yes you should exchange your money here, oh yes cambodia is good, oh yes oh yes. And suddenly a beeping sound interrupted this hectic tirade of useless information and I realised I did not in fact have Chaims back because my ATM card had just been swallowed. NOOOOOOOO. It was the last day of my visa, what do we do, what do we do. We're at the border, where do we go? How do we deal with this? Oh, for the first time in my life I was semi organised before I left the country, and I have a second card. It’s ok, it’s ok. It’s all going to be ok. It has $0 on it, but it's all going to work out for the best.We cross the border, we wait in this shed over here. We walk through this line over there. We double back, we walk in circles, screeching hawkers, pounding heat, the knowledge that the last two times, in the last two days we’ve used ATM’s our cards have been swallowed. Having been assured that ATMs in Cambodia are even less reliable my stomach knotted up, and I thought of all the things I’ll do if I’m stuck in a crazy country with no access to money. We made it back to the bus, knowing we’d been scammed, knowing we were down to my travel card which had $0 on it, feeling the knots tightening in my stomach. But we had our bags, we had our passports and our cambodian visas. We had our sanity and everything was going to be alright. We laughed at ourselves ‘well we needed a good reminder, Cambodia is different, we’re well and truly back in the developing world and they don’t have the same rules, our bad luck will turn around.’ We reached the point in the story where it seems as if the main characters life is back on track, that everything is ok, but anyone reading the book or watching the movie knows that this is the false promise before the bleakest point in the heroes story. And so away we went, gallivanting through temples, through back streets, playing with children, spying on monks, eating street food, riding our bicycles in the street. Taking the best photos of my trip so far and getting more and more excited about the next month of photography ahead, thinking of the stories I would write with them to try and send to magazines, thinking 'ah yes this is the life for me. Oh how happy photography makes me.' And as it always does in the best stories, everything came crashing down around us. One sleepy Saturday night, after a hearty dinner, after a day looking at all the photos we'd taken through the temples of Angkor wat, getting excited to go back the next day, everything changed. My social media addiction led me to look for my phone but it wasn't where I left it. I searched through my belongings but something was different. I looked at my camera bag and something didn't quite add up. Where my beloved baby Mandy the Mark iii had been, alongside 3 expensive professional lenses, was a large gaping hole. The hole seemed to expand in front of me, it was no longer the bright blue of the inside of my bag, but had turned black, it was a black hole and it was expanding, sucking everything in with it. Every good memory, every future photograph, the entire month of travel in front of me. I stared, still unable to comprehend I had just been robbed. That $8000 worth of camera equipment, along with my new mobile phone was no longer mine, but instead in the hands of some backstabbing thief at the guesthouse I was staying in. "Hey wait a minute, my camera's gone too?" Chaim said. Without a doubt we knew it was the hotel staff, or someone working with them, the door was locked, the windows barred, and we'd only been gone for 20 minutes. The invasion of privacy, the loss of my livelihood, the knowledge that the trust i'd had was gone and all the niceties of the homely place we'd decided to make our abode for the past week crumbled into a vile mess around us.What happened next could be the plot of an entire movie, yet I'll try and sum it up in a short paragraph. Three entire days in a sweltering, post colonial police station, arguing with shirtless police officers with the reek of last nights alcohol on them, all for the sake of a simple piece of paper, a copy of the police report, so I could try and leave this shemozzle behind me and get my gear back.We were intimidated, accused of lying and attempting insurance fraud, and asked to completely change our story because they had no intention of investigating a hotel in a place who's only income is tourism. Constantly being asked "What do you want the police to do about it?" It took yelling, sweet talking, persistence, a refusal to leave and becoming a massive pain in their side and finally the insinuation of a possible 'kindness' (also known as a bribe) I had the piece of paper in my hand. The knots that had been tightening in my stomach finally relaxed and a laugh burst out as we walked out of station, and were free to leave Cambodia and try and get my belongings back. After telling you of the horrific luck we dealt with, I have to finish with a note about Cambodia. I still love that beautiful, wonderful country, and ironically, although I dealt with some aggravating officers and thieves, the people in general are some of the loveliest people I've met on my travels.After losing my most important possessions and feeling like the world around me had come crashing down and everything was bitter and horrible, the thing that pulled me rather quickly from my self pity party, was looking around at the country I was lucky enough to be in, at the poverty that led to a city with a higher theft rate, and a country where police need bribes because they don't earn a high enough wage to support their families. A country that is still reeling from genocide, from severe mistreatment, and whose magic comes from the under-developed nature of the place. A country I'll most definitely be returning to, with a new camera.

[diarrheaworldstarhiphop]

For Mostafa, a gay Egyptian man in his mid-20s, seeing rainbow flags flying at an open-air rock concert in the Arab world’s most populous nation was thrilling. But he had a feeling it wouldn’t end well.

Dozens of people have been arrested and put on trial in Egypt in the ensuing crackdown. Some were also beaten and subjected to invasive physical exams, spreading panic in lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender circles.

Many of Mostafa’s friends are deleting their profiles on cellphone dating apps and scrubbing their social media accounts, which police have long used to ensnare people suspected of being gay or transgender. Some who were at last month’s concert have gone into hiding. There has even been talk of fleeing the country.

“The problem is that no one can tell the limit of this crackdown and how far it might go,” said Mostafa, a community activist who asked to be identified by one name, for fear that he too might be swept up by police. “There was an incredible amount of hate speech by the media and by people on social media. Everyone I know is depressed and fearful.”

It’s not the first time that the Egyptian authorities have gone after gay and transgender people. In one particularly notorious case, 52 men were put on trial at once after a high-profile raid on Cairo’s Queen Boat nightclub in 2001.

The “Arab Spring” uprising that toppled Egyptian strongman Hosni Mubarak a decade later brought some respite for the city’s embattled LGBT community, whose members were able to socialize more openly at house parties and bars.

But that respite came to an abrupt end after the military takeover that brought President Abdel Fattah Sisi to power in 2013. Hundreds of gay and transgender people have been rounded up, part of a broad crackdown that has seen political dissidents jailed, public protests harshly put down and the country’s once vibrant civil society quashed.

Still, human rights activists say the scale of this latest assault on Egypt’s LGBT population is unprecedented. At least 65 people were detained around the country in three weeks, according to a local rights group, the Egyptian Initiative for Personal Rights. Of those, 20 were sentenced to prison terms ranging from six months to six years, and four were released. Cases against the rest are pending.

Almost every day brings word of new arrests, according to the group’s lawyers, who are scrambling to keep up with the caseload.

They include Mohamed Alaa, a 21-year-old law student who was photographed at the concert waving a rainbow flag, and Sara Hegazy, 28, the only woman identified so far among the detainees. Both are being questioned by state security prosecutors who usually investigate terrorism cases.

Homosexuality is not specifically outlawed in Egypt, but authorities there have a history of using a 1961 law that prohibits “debauchery” to target the population. The accusations against Alaa and Hegazy are more serious. They include membership in an illegal organization, a charge also used against the government’s Islamist opponents.

“The Egyptian authorities tend to view challenge to authority in any sense in a deeply uncharitable fashion — and seem to have interpreted the raising of the rainbow flag very much in that way,” said H.A. Hellyer, a nonresident fellow at the Atlantic Council, a Washington think tank.

The crackdown began after a Sept. 22 concert in Cairo by the Lebanese indie-rock group Mashrou’ Leila, whose lead singer, Hamed Sinno, is one of the few openly gay performers in the Middle East.

It was a special show for the band, which was twice barred from performing in Jordan over accusations of not respecting the country’s traditions and beliefs. More than 30,000 people attended, and several of them raised rainbow flags.

“Cairo! This was one of the best shows we've ever played!” the band said on its Facebook page. “So much love!”

Excited fans shared photographs and video of the rainbow flags on social media. The backlash was swift and brutal.

Influential TV talk show hosts and newspaper columnists denounced the flag wavers as “sexual deviants” and suggested they were part of a foreign-backed plot to destabilize the country.

Al Azhar University, the center of Islamic learning in this mostly conservative Muslim country, said it would be organizing sermons and lectures to “fortify youth against these deviant thoughts.” St. Mark’s Coptic Orthodox Cathedral announced a conference on what it termed a “volcano of homosexuality.”

Responding to the public outcry, Egypt’s top prosecutor, Nabil Sadek, ordered an investigation into the flag waving.

Days later, Egypt’s media regulatory body issued an order prohibiting coverage that promotes or legitimizes homosexuality, which it labeled a “sickness and disgrace.” It also barred homosexual people from appearing in the media, unless it is to repent. The pro-government musicians union announced it would no longer issue permits to foreign performers unless they obtain security clearance.

“Perhaps certain officials are embarrassed that they didn’t catch this beforehand,” said Timothy E. Kaldas, a nonresident fellow at the Tahrir Institute for Middle East Policy in Washington. “It’s not exactly hard to know Mashrou’ Leila’s politics on LGBT issues … and they approved the concert.”

“The question is,” Kaldas said, “to what extent is this the government responding to pressure, and to what extent is it also an opportunity to distract the population from its other failings?”

Despite signs of economic revival, the cost of living has skyrocketed in Egypt, and salaries and pensions have not kept pace. Unemployment remains punishingly high, especially among the young; corruption is rampant, and terrorist attacks are on the rise.

The first suspect was taken into custody the day after the concert. Police used a fake profile on a dating app to lure the 19-year-old man to a place where officers were waiting, then searched his phone for incriminating material.

“By coincidence, they found photos of the concert,” said Dalia Abdel Hameed, who heads the gender program at the Egyptian Initiative for Personal Rights. “So they spun the narrative that they had arrested him as one of the flag bearers.”

He was sentenced to six years in prison on charges of debauchery and inciting debauchery.

“Most of the people arrested had nothing to do with the concert or the flag,” Abdel Hameed said. “These were men who were frequenting gay-friendly cafes or using dating apps or sometimes even arrested for looking or acting too gay in the street.” Alaa and Hegazy were tracked down a week later through images from the concert shared on social media.

In a poignant video posted before his arrest, Alaa expressed dismay at the vitriolic response to his gesture, including death threats from his home village. Though he is not gay, according to his lawyers, he said he had borrowed a flag from another audience member to support the band’s lead singer. (The video has since been taken down.)

Hegazy, who denies she was one of the flag wavers, told her lawyers that she was sexually harassed and beaten in a holding cell on her first night in custody after police informed fellow inmates about the reason for her arrest.

At least five men were subjected to anal exams to determine whether they had had gay sex — a practice that leading rights groups including Amnesty International and Human Rights Watch say amounts to torture.

The five members of Mashrou’ Leila were on a plane bound for the United States when news broke about the arrests. At first, they said, they stayed silent out of fear that a statement from them might further inflame Egyptian authorities. But on Oct. 2, they issued a statement denouncing the “demonization and prosecution of victimless acts between consenting adults.”

“It is sickening to think that all this hysteria has been generated over a couple of kids raising a piece of cloth that stands for love,” the band said.

Mostafa, the gay activist, is wondering whether the time has come for him to leave Egypt. Many gay and transgender people who have the means have already done so.

But for all the hatred directed against his community, he said, there has also been an outpouring of support on social media.

“That would not have been the case a few years ago,” he said. “Despite the tactics becoming more brutal, there is dialogue around the issue.”

[81scorp]

Constructive criticism: Justice League (2017)

(Originally posted on June 9, 2018)

Ah yes, Justice League. The comic with some of DC`s greatest heroes coming together to form a team that made Marvel so nervous that they created their own superteam: Fantastic Four. Fast forward a few years later, Marvel started to not only make their own movies but they they also created a shared cinematic universe. Warner Bros, owners of the film rights to DC, became eager to strike while the iron was hot and make their own Cinematic universe. It could have gone well if WB hadn`t insisted on paying catch up with Marvel. I do not envy the makers of this movie. Filmed pretty much directly after Batman v Superman only to find out that Bvs did not sit well with audiences so the film makers were forced to do changes mid filming. Add to that a family tragedy that forces the original director to step down and be replaced by a director with a different style. Sure, I don`t think any film productions go flawlessly, all have a few hiccups, and in some cases they can lead to a better movie. This was not the case for Justice League. Personally I didn`t hate it, it made more sense than BvS and I found it more enjoyable. There has been talk of a "Snyder Cut" and people are convinced that it would be a masterpiece. Judging from Snyder`s previous work and his tendencies to always believe that "darker is better" I doubt that. I`m sure it would have been more in tone with Batman v Superman, but would it have been good? If I could run so fast that I could screw the laws of physics, travel backwards in time and change these movies, What would I have done?

Contains SPOILERS for Batman v Superman and Justice League

Secret identities

Bruce, Clark, Barry and Hal should have one. Victor, Arthur and Diana doesn`t have to have one. That`s right, Diana could be open about her superheroing and still keep her day job. (Hey, it works for Jennifer Walters.)

Wonder Woman and the Male gaze

Don`t do the male gaze on Wonder Woman. Nuff said.

The Amazons bikini armor

Give them practical armor that doesn`t expose their midriffs.

The Mother boxes as rare, super important Macguffins

The movie doesn`t have to be superfaithful to everything in the comics but this time I`m gonna be one of that "In the comics" guy. In the comics the Mother boxes are pretty common things on the world of the New Gods. One of their many functions is opening "Boom tubes" to travel long distances. Like the teleportation portals used in this movie. How about this instead: The rare Macguffins are round spheres instead of cubes, and they`re called "Worldbuilders".

The Parademons

Make them a little more green. Once when I watched it there were a few scenes where Cyborg was fighting them and, to be honest, I had trouble telling him apart from them.

Steppenwolf and Cyborg`s CGI

They could have used practical effects mixed with CGI. The metal on Cyborg`s face and the upper half of his torso could have been practical.

Superman being dead

Killing him off in BvS was way to early. Even if JL had been a better movie than it was I still would have written a CC bringing it up. This was also the hardest part of writing this CC. Coming up with a plot where Supes isn`t dead but at the same time keeping the stuff from the movie that could still work.

I`m biased here, but I`d like to think that I did OK.

Plot

3 years ago: A group of scientists dig up an ancient, otherworldly, seemingly high-tech, spherical artefact. Present day: Coast City, Ferris Aircraft: Carol Ferris has finished working for the day and is going home, she notices something (or someone) floating in the air above her. She looks up. It`s Green Lantern. He has been busy keeping order in the galaxy and has been away from Earth for some time. He wonders if anything interesting has happened while he was gone. As if to answer his question we get an opening credit scene to a montage of Superman, Wonder Woman, Batman, Flash and Aquaman doing what they do best to heroic music, in slow motion. (The style of Zack Snyder can be good if you know where and when to use it.) In one part of this montage Superman should save a kitten (or a puppy). Why? Because he`s frickin` Superman! That`s why!

Gotham: A burglar robs someone`s apartment, Batman shows up and beats him. Bats has the upperhand but gets attacked by a parademon. The parademon has the upperhand but gets attacked by Superman who tries to restrain it. The parademon, fights like a maniac to get out of Supes grip but realizes that Supes is much to strong, so it self destructs. Bats and Supes talk a little. The attacks by these flying creatures have been happening more and more around the globe. Possible invasion? Supes hears that he is needed elsewhere and flies away. The Burglar thinks that Bats has forgotten about him and reaches for his loot but Bats steps on his arm and looks at him as a way of saying "Oh no, my friend, I haven`t forgotten about you". The burglar is left tied up outside the nearest police station. Bats calls Oracle and asks if she`s made any progress. We see a woman in a wheelchair in front of a couple of computerscreens. One of the screens shows info about Barry Allen being the Flash (Yes, Batman knows Barry`s secret identity, because he`s Batman!) On the computerscreen there`s a photo of Hal Jordan (from when he saved Carol Ferris`s life) and a video log made by Silas Stone, where he documents the process of trying to save his son`s life by giving him cybernetic limbs.

Oracle: "Nothing new about the flying, green guy I`m afraid, but I`ve found something about the guy with robot limbs."

She tells him that the young man is Victor Stone, a promising athlete and very intelligent. He was injured in an explosion. The other man is Silas Stone, Victor`s father, who tried to help his son by replacing his lost bodyparts with cybernetic prosthetics. Cybernetic legs and arms (from Lexcorp*) and a bionic eye (from S.T.A.R. labs) to replace one that he lost. It`s rumored that Victor didn`t survive the procedure. She says she`ll look into it more.

Metropolis, S.T.A.R. Labs: Silas Stone is going home for the day, A janitor (let`s call him Bob) gives him his condolences (because of what happened to Victor). Silas goes home to his apartment where his son, Victor is (who is very much alive). Silas talks to him and tries to offer support. Victor tells him that he`s having trouble adjusting to his new body. We get a little backstory through a flashback. After the accident It took him some time, but eventually Victor started to adjust to the idea of living with robot limbs. Then came the day when some scientists brought some unknown, small, high-tech rectangluar device (a Mother Box) to S.T.A.R. labs. When it was put in the same room as Victor it came alive, grew in size, disassembled itself and reassembled itself as a robot body around Victor. The difference between his new cyborg body and his old cybernetic limbs is that the new body is changing, upgrading itself. Everyday he wakes up with something new, like the ability to fly for an example. He also has images of a sphere-shaped object in his head. He`s a stranger in his own body, and it scares him.

Central City: Barry visits his dad in prison and tells him that the investigation has reached a dead-end. His dad, having no hope of ever getting out of jail, tells him to not waste all of his time on his case and move forward with his life. But Barry is determined, he`s not giving up on his dad. Paris: Diana is working in the museum, talks a little to her co-workers, one of them shows her the news where a professor living in Paris is missing. Diana goes to investigate. She arrives at the professor`s apartment. There`s police tape on the crime scene, a big hole in the wall that leads out to the streets and the whole place is a mess. Suddenly she`s not alone, a parademon shows up. She fights it, binds it with her lasso, it tries to break free, can`t, selfdestructs. Wonder Woman knows what it is, and realizes she has places to go and people to see. Metropolis, S.T.A.R. Labs: Bob the janitor is about to leave and go home, hears something, goes to investigate, is ambushed by a parademon.

Central City: Barry is on the phone with Iris. He talks to her about the situation with his dad and how he can do nothing to help him. Iris wants to help. Her best suggestion is that he goes for a walk to clear his head. Barry thinks it`s a good idea. He goes for a run as the Flash, ends up on a rooftop, takes time to reflect. Someone is being robbed, Flash pauses his thinking, stops the robber and goes back to his thinking.

The next day, Maine, Amnesty Bay: Diana is standing on a pier waiting for someone. Arthur shows up. She tells him that they could use his help. Arthur has heard about the flying creatures and wants to help but his hands are tied by the Atlantean royal council who think that he shouldn`t care about the surface world and focus on Atlantis. He tells Diana that he`ll do his best to convince the council but he can`t promise anything. Then he dives into the ocean and hitches a ride on an orca.

Themiscyra: Steppenwolf shows up to steal the worldbuilder. The Amazons put up a good fight and do their best to keep the worldbuilder away from him but in the end he gets away with it. The Amazons send the flaming arrow signal. Diana (who is travelling through the US to tell Bruce about what she knows) and Oracle both see the signal on the tv news.

Bat cave: Bruce is working on a big airship, Diana comes in and wants to talk to him. Alfred reveals to Bruce that it was he who let her in. Diana tells the story of the first time Steppenwolf tried to take over Earth. 1000 years ago the Amazons, the greek gods, the Atlanteans and a guardian from the stars (the Green Lantern who guarded sector 2814 back then), joined forces to defeat him. The worldbuilders were kept separate and the one given to the humans was buried.

Gotham: Oracle is searching for info on Victor. He contacts her, tells her he`s aware that she`s looking for and wants her to stop. She manages to convince him to let her talk to him. He doesn`t want to leave the apartment however and she`s not very mobile herself, being in a wheelchair and all. She tells him that she`ll send someone to speak for her. After giving it some thought Victor`s OK with it.

Metropolis, Daily Planet: Clark and Lois talk a little, about the flying aliens that have shown up recently and people that have been kidnapped. Could there be a connection? If so, what do the creatures need the people for? Clark hears something and excuses himself (looks like a job for Superman), he leaves and Lois gets a phonecall. A little later Supes lands outside a building where a group of reactionary terrorists have taken people hostage. They believe that the invasion of flying creatures is a sign that the world needs to be purged with fire. Not only do they have a time-bomb but they also start shooting at the hostage. Superman is fast and protects the hostage from bullets, as he reaches the time-bomb there`s only one second left and... The bomb is suddenly surrounded by a green forcefield that takes the force of the explosion. It was created by a flying masked man in a green suit. It`s Green Lantern.

Silas Stone`s apartment: The person who comes to talk to Victor in Oracle`s place is Lois Lane.She tries to convince him to join in the fight and reminds him of when he helped her find evidence that saved Supes`s life. Victor`s final response is "I`ll think about it".

Atlantis: Steppenwolf invades Atlantis, fights, defeats and kills two guards. Fights and defeats Mera, Fights and defeats Arthur, takes the worldbuilder and boomtubes away. When Arthur recovers he tells the Atlantean royal council that now is a time for action. Mera supports him. The council admits that they`ll have to get more involved and not distance themselves too much from the surface world. Mera gives Arthur a trident and assures him that she can take care of Atlantis in his absence.

Metropolis, S.T.A.R. Labs: Silas Stone gets kidnapped by a parademon.

Gotham Police Department: Commissioner Gordon is, together with another cop, looking at police reports. He says that with the things that has happened lately he`s starting to wonder if Batman`s help is enough. Heck, soon maybe even Superman`s help won`t be enough. Might be a good idea to call Batman tonight, see if he knows something they don`t.

Metropolis, Silas Stone`s apartment: Victor realizes that his dad should have been home by now and accesses the internet. He hacks into the Police`s database and finds out that his dad has been kidnapped. He takes the big step of stepping outside his apartment.

Central City: Barry gets a call from Bats who tells him to meet him in Gotham. Flash suits up and runs to Gotham.

Somewhere in Russia: We see a town where people and families do everyday stuff, cleaning their houses, reading the news paper etc. In one of the families (lets call them the Dostojevskis) the daughter sees something in the sky. Parademons! Their little town is now under siege by parademons. The people hide in their houses.

Gotham City: Commissioner Gordon turns on the Batsignal. Bats, Wondy and Flash show up. Gordon hopes that Bats has figured something out, he has. Based on where the kidnappings have taken place Bats has deduced that they will most likely find what they`re looking for on an island outside Gotham.

"Count me in!" Arthur shows up.

"Me too!" Victor shows up as well. The gang`s all here it seems... except one.

"Mind if I tag along?"

They look up, it`s Green Lantern. He introduces himself and tells them that Supes is busy elsewhere and may come later. They travel to the island where they go through some underground tunnels. Some of them talk a little, Barry is bothered by the fact that Bats knows his secret identity but he doesn`t know Bats`s

Batman: "I may tell you someday in the future."

Flash asks Bats one last question.

Flash: "What are your superpowers?"

Batman: "I`m good at detective work."

They find Steppenwolf interrogating the kidnapped people. Among the hostage they find the professor from Paris, Bob the janitor and Silas Stone. Flash zooms in and gets a few of them out, Steppenwolf and the parademons react, a fight starts, Flash saves the rest of the hostage. Green Lantern gets knocked out. Steppenwolf realizes that Victor`s body is a Mother Box and uses his own MB to scan and extract possible info from Victor`s body about the whereabouts of the final worldbuilder. Victor`s robotbody resists, but doing that is painful to Victor. Steppenwolf gets the info he needs, blows a hole in the wall, causes a flood and boomtubes away. Things look grim for the heroes but Supes shows up and gets them out of trouble.

A secret base a few miles outside Metropolis: Steppenwolf shows up via boomtube, breaks through the safety doors, the parademons kill the guards, Steppenwolf gets the final worldbuilder and boomtubes away.

The Batcave: The heroes take some time to recharge and come up with a plan. Victor knows that it`s not his fault but he`s still angry that Steppenwolf found the worldbuilder through him. Determined to make things right he goes online to search for any info on where Steppenwolf could possibly be. Flash asks Bats:

"Didn`t you use to have a sidekick? I think I read something about it."

Bats opens up about how he adopted a young cirkus acrobat when his parents died. The kid found out that Bruce Wayne was Batman and wanted to fight crimes by his side. Bruce agreed to train him but made sure that the training would be hard and challenging in the hopes that the boy would give up the idea of becoming a crimefighter. The boy persevered and became Robin. Years later the boy grew up and he and Bats went their separate ways. Bats found a new kid who became the next Robin who sadly was killed by the Joker. This turned Bats down a dark spiral. Flash understands Bats`s pain.

"It`s Bruce by the way, Bruce Wayne."

Bats finally reveals his secret identity to Flash. Alfred shows up, is surprised that Bats has brought company but quickly adapts and asks if he can get them anything to eat or drink. Flash would like something to eat.

As he`s searching databases for info on Steppenwolf`s whereabouts Victor once again comes in contact with Oracle. She gives him her backstory: Batman inspired her to fight crime. She called herself Batgirl and wore a bat-costume of her own. Then Joker shot her and made her a paraplegic. She has fought crime from a distance in a wheelchair since then. The doctors say that there`s a small chance that she may be able to walk again (because in this universe Joker didn`t shoot her directly in the spine). Victor understands Barbara.

Somewhere in Russia: The russians (among them are the Dostojevskis) are still hiding from the parademons. Steppenwolf unites the third worldbuilder with the others and activates them with his Mother box. They start to charge up. We get a little backstory about how he once fought for Darkseid in a war against New Genesis. He made a mistake that helped the forces of New Genesis get the upperhand which lead to them stopping the forces of Apokolips from taking over their planet. Because of this Steppenwolf was demoted and would only get his general-title back if he conquered a number of planets in the name of Darkseid. (We get a flashback where we see Steppenwolf kneel before Granny Goodness, but we don`t get to see Darkseid.)

The Batcave: Victor has found Steppenwolf, the coordinates point to an old town near an old powerplant in Russia. The gang gets ready and they fly to the place in Bats`s airship. Victor tell them how to stop the worldbuilders during the trip. They arrive and come up with a plan. Supes and GL takes care of saving and evacuating civilians, the rest of the team attract the attention of, and fight the parademons to get to the worldbuilder. The League charge into battle. The worldbuilders are fully charged and start to terraform the environment around them. The Dostojevkis are in trouble

The League fight their way through the parademons, the terraforming continues, Supes and GL save and evacuate civilians, the Dostojevskis are still in trouble.The League fight their way through the parademons and reach Steppenwolf, the terraforming continues and it`s getting worse, Supes and GL save and evacuate civilians, the Dostojevskis are still in trouble and it`s getting worse. The League fight Steppenwolf, the terraforming continues, Supes and GL save and evacuate civilians, but it looks like no one is gonna help the Dostojevskis, they`re doomed.But then: Superman saves the Dostojevskis!

He takes them somewhere safe, far away from the warzone. He takes a moment to breathe and gather his strength before he gets back in the fight. The Dostojevski daughter says "Thank you" in russian. Superman says "You`re welcome" in russian. Steppenwolf fights the League, he`s getting the upperhand, GL joins the fight and gets the upperhand for a moment. Steppenwolf gets the upperhand back but then Supes joins the fight. The two of them are pretty evenly matched. While the rest of the league fight Steppenwolf. Victor (with a little help from GL) manages to shut down and separate the worldbuilders, ending the terraforming. Furious, Steppenwolf punches out GL and tears off Victors leg. The league fight him again and destroy his axe. Steppenwolf realizes that he has lost and boomtubes the hell outta there with the rest of his parademons. The heroes have won and the civilians are safe.

Later, somewhere in the U.S.A: Remember the scoutship from Man of Steel? Supes does. He`s found it, placed somewhere in a remote place in the U.S. and it`s gonna become their new HQ. Bats says they should have a round table with seven chairs.

"With room for more." adds Diana.Central city: Barry visits his dad and tells him that his case is moving forward again. His dad wonders how it`s possible. Barry tells him that he has a friend who`s good at detective work.

Metropolis: Victor has joined a kind of big brother mentor program where he teaches basketball to kids.

Batcave: Bruce is reunited with his old protègè Dick Grayson, who now calls himself Nightwing. Apokolips: Steppenwolf bows and apologizes to Granny Goodness, she reminds him that it`s not her that he should apologize to.

Earth: We get Lois`s speech about hope and darkness as a voiceover to a montage where we see Oracle, Aquaman, Wonder Woman, Flash, Cyborg, Green Lantern and Batman and Nighwing in their natural element. The montage ends with Clark Kent walking the streets of Metropolis, he looks up, walks away from the crowd to avoid being seen as he opens his shirt to reveal the Superman logo. Superman flies off into the sky.

The end

Not great but hopefully not bad.

* In my CC I wrote that Lex mentions that a young athlete who got into a terrible accident is now able to walk again, thanks to Lexcorp`s advancements in the field of bionics. I felt I had to keep some of it because I want to have a little continuity.

[dannycaing]

ACROSS THE FAR SIDE

ACROSS THE FAR SIDE by Danny Caing Date Written: May 8, 2019

Location:  Fond de Billionvaux near Haudainville,  France Date:  June 6, 1944 Tuesday 3:20 A.M.

Patrick Newdale was one of the 13,100 paratroopers, the first American combat operations during Operation Overlord, under the 82nd Airborne Division made night parachute drops early during the Normandy invasion, widely referred to as D-Day on June 6, 1944.  There was bad weather at that time when Patrick was on aboard at 432 C-47s planes.  He was the first paratrooper to jump when the drop signal was "on" the plane that had already flown too far west. However, there was a sudden electrical storm and the jump was ordered to stop for a minute or two but Patrick was already alone on the air with his parachute.  There was lightning all around him like he was at the center of a tornado.  As he touched down, the sky suddenly becomes clear. The storm was gone, everything was quiet.

On the ground, he folded his parachute and hid them in the bushes.  He was in the forest,  walked through an open field and an asphalt road.  It was 4:32 A.M. as he tried to synchronize his watch.   As he looked up the sky,  the planes were gone.  He was wondering how come they vanished that fast.  Along the side of the road, he saw a house and a garage with stockpiles of woods.  He was moving like a fox going from one corner of the road to the next one.  He was at the war zone he thought.  The village was so peaceful and clean.  Standing at the corner of Ruh Grande Street and Rue de Verdun Street,  there was a salon on the right side and on the left side was a building called Maire, the City Hall.  He jogged along Rue de Verdun Street and turned left to Rue de Butry until he reached the cemetery. He could not believe what he was seeing,  the cars parked along the road,  the design of the houses,  electric posts,  concrete pavements,  they were all new to his sight.  He rested for a while on the bench in front of the wired green fence of the cemetery.

A young lady and a boy came by with some flowers in her hand. Her husband died two years ago by a car accident and buried in the cemetery. They were curious about Patrick with the army camouflage suit and a rifle on the side of his bench.  He must have gone to sleep for a while.

PAULINE:  Bonjour! Êtes-vous le nouveau gardien?

Patrick was awake immediately and surprised to see a woman and a boy standing in front of him as he grabbed his M1 rifle.  The woman covered the boy at once in her arms and was shocked.

PATRICK: Who are you, people?  Have you seen German soldiers around here?

PAULINE:  You're an American soldier. I thought you were the new caretaker.

PATRICK:  You speak English.  Are you from the resistance?

PAULINE:  What resistance?   What do you mean by that?

PATRICK:  I'm a bit confused right now.  May I know what place is this please? Where am I?

PAULINE:  You are in Haudainville, France.

PATRICK:  I am too far West.  So, that is why I didn't see my buddies.

PAULINE:  My mother works at a U.S. Air Base in Evreux-Fauville. My grandfather was a U.S. Army in World War 2.  I can drive you to the base in my car.

PATRICK:  Do all of you here owns those cars along the road? It's not safe to travel on the road.   There are German soldiers everywhere.

PAULINE:  What do you mean German soldiers?   There is no more war here since May 1945.  Who are you?

PATRICK:  I am Private Patrick Newdale of the 82nd Airborne Division of the United States Army.

PAULINE:  My name is Pauline. This little boy is my son Lucas.

PATRICK (while shaking Pauline and Lucas hands): What date is today?

PAULINE:  Today is Thursday, June 6, 2019. The war was over 74 years ago.  

PATRICK: That's impossible. Do you mean I'm in the future?

A car stopped by in front of them as the driver asked Pauline if everything was all right.  He called the local police because he saw a rifle on Patrick's hand.

PAULINE (waving her hand to the driver):  Nous allons bien.  Merci pour votre sollicitude. Bonne journée.

PATRICK:  Is there a way I can go back to my time? What are they doing?

Another car came by to stop. There were people on the other side of the road with their cellphones focus on them.

PAULINE:  They are just surprised to see you.  Sir Patrick,  you have to listen to me very carefully.  I worked at the City Hall.  I know this kind of situation.  You have to surrender your rifle to me or put them on the bench and stay with me closer.  The police will be here in a minute. I will call mom now to ask for help.  Is it understood?

Patrick dropped his rifle on the bench. He stands closer to Pauline's side as the police cars were approaching in front of them.  Pauline was on her cellphone talking to her mother.  The Police Officer saluted to Pauline and Patrick saluted back.

POLICE OFFICER:  Bonjour madame. Nous sommes là pour vous aider. Est-ce que tout va bien?

PAULINE:  Cet homme est le soldat Patrick Newdale de l’armée américaine. J'ai déjà contacté maman. Ils envoient du personnel américain le chercher ici par hélicoptère. Pour le moment, il peut rester chez moi.

The Police Officer escorted Patrick to the backseat of the car while they waited for Pauline went inside the cemetery with Lucas to put the flowers on her husband's grave lot.  They were all seated at the backseat of the police car when they left the cemetery.

PATRICK: Where are we going now?

PAULINE:  You are going to my place for a while we wait for your men to pick you up by helicopter and bring you home.

Inside the house,  Patrick was amazed to see the flat screen T.V.,   laptop,  computer monitor and xerox machine,  microwave oven and video war games of Lucas.  During breakfast, he took 3 cups of coffee from a coffee maker.  Pauline showed him the guest room with its bathtub shower and closet.  He wore Lacoste T-Shirt and jeans, and converse shoes from Pauline's hubby that suited him well.  The military uniforms,   backpack,  black leather shoes, and a helmet were on the side of the bed.

PAULINE: You look better not in military uniform.  You haven't changed for the past 75 years, that's incredible for being twenty years old until now.  Your buddies in America will be 95 years old today.  How do you feel about this, Patrick?

PATRICK:  I don't know what to say.  Thank you so much for everything.  I wish I could stay here with you Pauline.  There's no hope for me out there.   Probably they are all gone by now.  They will not even recognize me, too.  They will conduct experiments on my body and lock me down.  I can take care of you and Lucas.

Pauline embraced Patrick,  Lucas embraced him, too.  Two Tomahawk helicopters were hovering above Haudainville and landed at the side of a warehouse's vacant lot along Rue De Butry.  There were U.S. Special Forces troops who went to the house of Pauline at Rue Grande.  Pauline met them at the door and told them the unexpected events that just happened.

PAULINE:  He just vanished inside the room while he was resting, but his clothes, boots, and helmet are intact.  His rifle is in the City Hall.  He told us that he was from the 82nd Airborne Division of the United States Army and his name was Private Patrick Newdale.

COL. McKINTOSH:   What do you mean vanished?  We thought he is with you right now.  Yes,  we know Private Patrick Newdale,  he was MIA during the air invasion in Normandy on June 6, 1944.  Excuse me,  Ma'am,  we want to see the room where he disappeared.

The Special Force personnel went inside the room,   kitchen,  living & dining room, study & basement, Lucas room, 2nd-floor rooms and ceiling,  and even scrutinized outside the perimeter of the house. Later,  the Colonel showed the black & white photo of the young Patrick to Pauline and Lucas.  

COL. McKINTOSH:  Is this how he looks when you saw him this morning?

PAULINE:  I am positively sure it's him.

LUCAS (pointing his finger to the face of the picture):  Oui c'est lui.

Colonel McKintosh investigated Pauline and Lucas thru a video that it's for confidential military records and asked more in detail how they first made contact with Patrick and every dialogue they made together.   After picking up all the items left by Patrick inside the room,  the Colonel looks soberly to Pauline and politely shook her hands,  gave a tap at the back of Lucas with a smile.

COL. McKINTOSH:  Thank you, Ma'am, for this unexpected event.  We would want you to understand that this did not happen.  We have not been here or seen you. Likewise, it's an honor.  

PAULINE:  Sir,  can I have the photo of the soldier.

Colonel McKintosh immediately handed the picture to Pauline with a nodding gesture while holding his cap.

COL. McKINTOSH:  Ça a été un plaisir.

The Special Forces dropped by at the City Hall to pick up the rifle then proceeded to the two Tomahawk helicopters. Pauline and Lucas went to the car and drove along the side of a warehouse's vacant lot at Rue De Butry where the two Tomahawks had just taken off, then the cemetery where they first encountered Patrick resting on the bench, and further ahead is the Canal de L'Est (Branche Nord) where on the other side of the bridge Patrick was waiting for them.  However,  while the car was moving towards Verdun on the dirt road,  Pauline,  Patrick, and Lucas were unaware that an invisible military drone was monitoring their location.

MISSION CONTROL:  We have a visible contact of the target at D301 road,  a red Renault Twingo moving towards the intersection of Aliee de Wes and Rue de L'Ecluse.   Ground Delta Force 1 this is Castle 2,  confirm position at Chemin de la Cote de Puty to engage.

DELTA FORCE 1:  Roger. Copy that.  We have visual contact.  We are now ready to engage.  Confirm action.

Music Background "Across The Far Side" by Danny Caing https://soundcloud.com/genizyn/across-the-far-side-by-danny-caing

All Rights Reserved Wonderful Stories Limited Copyrighted @ 2019

[made-from-galaxies]

As his environment changed, suspect in El Paso shooting learned to hate

A police officer stands outside a home in Allen, Tex., believed to be associated with a mass shooting at a busy shopping area in the border city of El Paso on Aug. 3. (Jake Bleiberg/AP)

ALLEN, Tex. — Patrick Crusius watched the sprawling north suburbs of Dallas where he grew up dramatically change over the course of his short life. The number of Hispanic residents soared, while the non-Hispanic white population plummeted from nearly 80 percent to just more than half. Diversity flourished across Collin County, in its restaurants, shops, neighborhoods and in the public schools, where one high school welcomed both a new black student union and a prayer center for Muslims and others.

Authorities think Crusius, 21, closely noted the shift and spent countless hours on the Internet studying the white supremacist theory known as “the great replacement.” And then, after hanging out with family members late last week, he jumped in his car with his newly purchased assault-style rifle and made the 10-hour drive to El Paso, where, authorities say, he fatally shot 22 people and injured dozens at a shopping center on Saturday near the Mexican border to stop “the Hispanic invasion of Texas,” according to a statement police think he posted online shortly before the attack.

On Friday, police said in an affidavit for an arrest warrant that Crusius was clear about his intent. In the affidavit, which was obtained by The Washington Post, he told detectives that he shot multiple innocent victims and that he had been targeting “Mexicans.”

[Read the arrest warrant affidavit]

Crusius surrendered after the shootings when police encountered his car at a nearby intersection. El Paso police Detective Adrian Garcia wrote that Crusius got out of the car with his hands in the air and declared: “I’m the shooter.”

A car that police say belongs to Patrick Crusius, 21, the suspect in the El Paso mass shooting, is shown at an intersection near where the shooting occurred on Aug. 3. (Robert Moore/For The Washington Post)

That Crusius apparently was quietly but thoroughly indoctrinated into racist theories on websites such as 8chan, where police think he posted a missive attempting to explain his hatred, came as a complete shock to his family members back in Collin County, according to Chris Ayres, a lawyer who represents the family. He was with his twin sister, Emily, just two nights before the shooting, and he did not betray anything unusual going on in his life, Ayres said. His grandparents, with whom he lived until about six weeks ago as he attended Collin College, said they always welcomed him in their home and never had a problem with him.

[Will taking down 8chan stop the worst people on the Internet?]

“This all came out of left field,” Ayres said, adding that Crusius would occasionally chat about history and current events but that no one thought his opinions were unusual. “There weren’t hot political opinions flying back and forth or anything.”

Crusius’s parents — Bryan, a therapist, and Lori, a hospice admissions nurse — said in a statement this week that they are devastated, believing their son’s actions “were apparently influenced and informed by people we do not know, and from ideas and beliefs that we do not accept or condone, in any way. He was raised in a family that taught love, kindness, respect, and tolerance — rejecting all forms of racism, prejudice, hatred, and violence.”

Lori Crusius called police several weeks ago when she realized her son was in the process of obtaining an assault-style rifle, Ayres said, noting that her call was simply “informational.” She wanted to find out if he could legally have one, which he could.

Ayres said that there was no indication of why he wanted the gun — Crusius occasionally went to a gun range with his father — and that his mother had “absolutely zero concern about any violence or imminent threat.”

Investigators are looking into whether Crusius might have been radicalized online, where they say he has claimed he spent nearly eight hours a day. But friends and former teachers and classmates say he might have been hardened, too, by the tensions in his changing community in real life.

Many people here describe the diversifying community in an overwhelmingly positive way, speaking of a place that has thrived on new arrivals who have flocked here for plentiful jobs and good schools.

But some say the changes have come with a backlash.

Sisilen Simo, 19, a Liberty High School graduate, said she endured racist comments from teachers and students alike and was ultimately inspired to create a Black Student Union at the school in 2017. After President Trump’s victory, students started showing up at school with “Make America Great Again” T-shirts and hats and began making jokes citing the president’s policy positions. Simo said she started hearing chatter about building the wall and banning Muslims that she said made her and other students of color feel uncomfortable.

“So when I hear the kid who shot up Walmart went to my school, part of me was surprised,” Simo said. “The other part was like, ‘This is America.’ ”

When Crusius was in high school, some students bullied him, friends said; one friend said a group of Spanish-speaking students harassed him in the hallways. White-supremacist groups peppered his college campus with pamphlets. And an area public official said he received threats and racist screeds from people who didn’t shy away from giving their real names and addresses.

Michael Phillips, a Collin College professor and historian of race relations in the Dallas-Fort Worth region, said some residents continued to espouse racist sentiments.

Shortly after the 2016 election, a flier in a Collin County town warned “Muslims, Indians, Blacks, and Jews” to leave Texas and “go back to where [they] came from” or face “torture starting now.” While Crusius was a student at Collin College, fliers appeared on campus and in mailboxes around the county that spoke of dangers posed by immigrants, arguing that they are crime-prone and a threat to white women. Other fliers warned of harm from interracial dating, Phillips recalled.

This week, as north Texas baked in the summer sun, Mario Cesar Ramirez sat in the small ice cream shop he owns a few miles from Crusius’s childhood home — with a Spanish menu of Mexican ice pops and traditional desserts — and contemplated the roots of Crusius’s hate.

“He saw the majority started fading, shrinking away,” said Ramirez, who opened his first business, a bakery, when he was 23 and now runs a taqueria chain. “He started seeing more bakeries and taco shops . . . and by the time he went to high school, it was a full melting pot.”

Years ago, when Ramirez used to drop his nephew, who is a few years older than Crusius, off at the nearby Head Start program, he noticed the great diversity of the preschoolers and said he hoped they would grow up to be friends. But his idea of a welcoming, inclusive country “forever changed” in 2016 with Trump’s election, he said.

“The things that Mr. Smith and Mrs. Smith used to only think, they can talk about now,” he said. “You go to the movies and you will hear, ‘Here come the f—ing Mexicans.’ I have felt it. I have heard it.”

Crusius, he said, appears to have been in some ways a symptom of that phenomenon, part of the group that now feels it can “tell us openly, ‘We don’t like you; you’re not welcome,’ ” Ramirez said.

Patrick Crusius, 21, is the suspect in the mass shooting in El Paso. (El Paso Police Department/AFP/Getty Images)

A few blocks up the road, Uriel Trujillo smiled when he talked about the diversity of the customers who frequent the Mexican restaurant his family opened in 1976. He said that when he decided to add menudo, a traditional Mexican soup made with cow’s stomach, to the menu a few years ago, he was nervous about how it would be received. “But now I see Anglo people eating it, I see African people eating it,” Trujillo said, remembering a white customer from San Antonio and a black customer from Louisiana separately telling him it reminded them of home. “Now we sell one every day.”

Trujillo also thinks, though, about the bullying his 13-year-old son has experienced at the same middle school that Crusius attended. At times he has come home crying, complaining that other students ask him: “Are you illegal?”

The population of Collin County, north of Dallas, has more than doubled since 2000, to more than a million in 2018, according to U.S. Census data. That growth — driven in large part by the arrival of new businesses, including Toyota, Liberty Mutual and the commercial property insurer FM Global — has come with increased diversity. As the county has undergone a business and housing boom, the white non-Hispanic population fell from 77 percent in 2000 to 56 percent in 2018, while the Hispanic population jumped from 10 percent of county residents to 15 percent. The total number of Hispanic residents tripled in those years, as the total population surged across demographics.

“It’s a microcosm of the United States,” said Harry LaRosiliere, the first African American to be elected mayor of the county’s largest city, Plano. In 2017, LaRosiliere was challenged by an opponent who promised to “keep Plano suburban” — which LaRosiliere said was “absolutely a dog whistle” for some residents who want to keep the city the white, wealthy suburb they knew. His critics deny that, saying their concerns are about preserving a “suburban lifestyle” and have nothing to do with race or ethnicity.

Friends and classmates said that Crusius — who has an older brother in addition to his twin sister — grew up as a somewhat odd, lonely boy who loved snakes and playing video games such as Halo. He had difficulty interacting socially and had an aversion to loud noises — particularly music. His parents had a troubled marriage that was marred by his father’s drug and alcohol problem, the father, Bryan, said in a self-published memoir in 2014.

In 2013, Patrick Crusius was enrolled in Liberty High School, where his mother, Lori, taught health sciences. She resigned from her teaching position in June 2014 to return to nursing, and her son ultimately enrolled in Plano Senior High School, where classmates said he was bullied.

Allison Pettitt, a classmate, said she saw Crusius pushed around in the hallways and “cussed out by some of the Spanish-speaking kids.” She said that bullying was common at the school and that teachers often ignored it.

“He started getting more depressed closer to the end of junior year,” Pettitt said. “He started wearing a trench coat to school and becoming more antisocial and withdrawn.”

Lesley Range-Stanton, a spokeswoman for Plano’s school district, declined to comment about whether Crusius was bullied, citing student privacy.

In the fall of 2017, Crusius enrolled in a local community college, Collin College, imagining he might one day have a career in software development.

“I’m not really motivated to do anything more than what’s necessary to get by. Working in general sucks, but I guess a career in Software Development suits me well,” he wrote in his LinkedIn profile.

But according to the missive published online just before the shooting, he may have become increasingly disillusioned. Classmates said he would mutter to himself in class.

Then he bought a gun several weeks ago.

It is unclear how long Crusius might have been planning the mass shooting of which he is accused, but he moved out of his grandparents’ home about six weeks before the shooting, and it appears he wrote an online composition some time ahead of the attack, posting a rambling screed that borrowed language and ideas from white supremacist propaganda and parroted ideas that Trump has espoused about a minority “invasion.”

The missive said that “Hispanics will take control of the state and local government of my beloved Texas” and ultimately destroy the country.

After his 10-hour drive to the Mexican border, police said he became lost in a neighborhood and stopped at a Walmart because he was hungry. Then he allegedly strode through the parking lot and the store, gunning down shoppers with a blank look on his face. Ultimately, 22 people, including eight Mexican citizens, would die.

Crusius is charged with capital murder, and federal authorities are investigating the massacre as a potential domestic terrorism attack.

People leave flowers and dedications outside the Walmart where 22 people were fatally shot Aug. 3. (Michael Robinson Chavez/The Washington Post)

Robert Moore in El Paso and Mark Berman in Washington contributed to this report. Nevins is a freelance journalist based in Texas.

Source: https://opengeekhouse.com.br/2019/08/11/as-his-environment-changed-suspect-in-el-paso-shooting-learned-to-hate/