#aaron centric

[ratatatastic]

congrats to our new offensive dman mikksy who is beloved by this team they cannot help but tease him about his new goal scoring prowress. something so beautiful about jameson asking everyone about mikksy back-to-back goal games even ekky like you will all be subjected to mikksy legacy game

sasha bringing up his failed second goal attempt LEAVE HIM ALONE HE WANTED IT SO BADDDD OKAY 😭😭😭

the many shades and faces of love

but also congrats to mikksy who is just i come in do my job and get out if they go in they go in

florida panthers @ minnesota wild postgame interview | 12.18.24 (x)(x)(x)

[lightandheatao3]

The Bunker - Criminal Minds

Chapter 1: The Bunker

Summary: Spencer Reid wakes up in a locked bunker to find half the current BAU and two of its departed members unconscious on the floor. The old team is back together but the reunion is not what any of them would have wished for. An Unsub from their past has decided it's time they all stop keeping secrets, even if it means exposing them by force.

Hotch and Derek have been pulled back into a world they tried to escape. Emily, Rossi, and JJ are doing their best to keep it together. Spencer is falling apart.

AKA a found family is reunited and forced to go through the most nightmarish version of family therapy imaginable.

Set months after the end of Criminal Minds: Evolution. Evolution referenced, but not necessary to understand the story.

Read chapter 1 on AO3 or under the cut. All comments and reblogs are so appreciated <3

Chapter 2 link

Spencer cracked his eyes open, flinching from the white fluorescent light and blinking hard against the groggy, dull ache in his head.

His mouth was dry, body heavy. A familiar wake up. He reached his hand out blindly for the relief waiting on his bedside table.

No- wait.  

His lights are all yellow toned filament bulbs, not white fluorescents.

The smell was wrong. The dull electrical buzz in the air was louder, pitched higher.

His eyes shot open wide and he scrambled to his feet.

This wasn’t home.

He surveyed his surroundings, fighting the wave of dizziness that came with standing too abruptly.

“Oh no,” he said out loud. “Nonononono…”

The room was large and square and made entirely of concrete. Up the top a small vent, too high to reach and too small for a person to fit into. A heavy door with a double walled chamber for someone to put things into without having to interact with the person on the other side. The kind you would find in a maximum-security prison cell. The whole room felt like a prison cell, a place he’d hoped to never be again. At the back of the room a small en-suit that was completely stripped bare but for a metal toilet with no seat and a sink that was bolted into the wall. There was a door that could be shut, but there was a gap under it and a hole where a doorknob had clearly been removed.

A camera. There on the roof, drilled in and protected by a plexiglass dome, blinking its little red light at him. He stared at it for a moment, then closed his eyes.

He slowed his breathing. Now was not the time to fall apart. Not now. Not yet.

Not when there were 5 of his friends prone on the ground around him, unconscious as he had been only moments ago.

Each was laid out on a thin foam mattress, the kind with no seams or springs that could be fashioned into tools.

His first stop was the door. He knew before he tried it that it wasn’t going to open, but he had to make sure. As soon as that was confirmed, he turned his attention to the people in the room with him.

He rushed over to Emily first, rolling her onto her side and checking her pulse. It was slow, but steady. He looked around at the rest of them, noting the gentle rise and fall of their chests. All alive. He sighed audibly, clasping his hands together in thanks and relief for a split second before turning back to Emily.

He gently shook her, putting his hand on her cheek in what he hoped was a comforting way. His hands were shaking. He wasn’t sure if it was the adrenaline or the comedown. “Emily," he said gently. “Emily, it’s me, Spencer. Wake up Emily.”

After a few more repetitions her eyes fluttered, then opened. She looked up at him hazily. “Spencer?”

“Hi,” he said sadly, knowing there were only a second left until she realized the danger they were in and wanting to let her experience that second in peace.

She glanced behind him where JJ lay unconscious. He looked at her pupils. They were constricted, confirming his suspicions.

“Oh my god,” Emily gasped, her hand reaching up to clutch his shoulder. She leveraged herself against him to drag her way up into a sitting position. She rubbed at her eyes blearily, then opened them again and cast them around the entire room. “Fuck,” she breathed.

“Yeah,” he agreed.

Her eyes snapped back to him. “Are you alright?” she asked urgently, looking him over. “What happened?”

“I’m fine,” he assured her. “And I don’t know. I woke up a minute ago. I don’t remember how I got here. I think we were all drugged.”

She hummed in agreement. “Last thing I remember I was outside my apartment on the way home from the gym. I still feel a little out of it. God, Spencer, you look awful,” she said, putting a hand over his. “What did they do to you?”

“Same thing as you, most likely.” He looked away. “Emily, that’s Hotch over there,” he deflected. “And Derek.”

Emily looked to where he was pointing. Her expression was solemn, professionalism kicking in even in these dire circumstances. “Yeah. And no sign of Tara, Matt, or Luke. And no Penelope, thank God. Whoever did this, they’ve got a grudge against us that predates the others joining the BAU. Someone who met all of us but never had direct interaction with Penelope. This is good. If the others are free, they’ll find us.”

Spencer nodded in agreement. “This is someone with the skill to find Hotch in witness protection. If he wasn’t dead, I would have said it was Scratch. The logistics of kidnapping 6 highly trained federal agents takes an enormous amount of planning and ability. There are only handful of people we’ve encountered with the capacity to pull something like this off.”

She rubbed at her temples. Her eyes were losing the glassy sheen as the adrenaline counteracted the effects of the drugs. “I assume you tried the door?” He nodded. “I guess we should wake the others.”

No sooner than she said it, JJ stirred. They both crawled over to her. Her wake up process went much the same as Emily’s, but for the fact that the first thing she asked about was if her children were safe, before she’d come to enough to realize they had no way of knowing.

“Whoever this is likely targeted you while you were alone,” Spencer assured her. “It’s much safer to take a victim without witnesses, especially a victim who is trained to defend themselves and needs to be physically incapacitated.”

Next, they woke Rossi, who responded immediately by swearing up a storm and threatening to rip the head off whoever was responsible for this.

“Hey, Dave, it’s okay,” said JJ in a calming voice, even as she looked about to cry. “There’s nobody in here but us.”

He breathed. He nodded. He cursed again. He nodded again.

“At least I’m not alone this time,” he said with a world weariness that Spencer felt in his gut.

They had all been in situations like this before, but Rossi was barely recovered from the last time only a few months ago. Spencer still regret so deeply that he wasn’t there to help with Elias Voit.

“No, you’re not alone,” agreed Emily emphatically. “On that note, look who else is here,” she said.

“God fucking dammit,” cursed Rossi as his eyes swept over Derek and landed on Hotch.

Seeing Derek there was upsetting, but it wasn’t as jarring as Hotch’s presence. Derek still came along to the occasional social event, though less and less recently, as he was busy with the birth of his second child. Spencer personally still saw him once a month or so, though the past year their contact had been more limited to phone calls. They were all dreading having to watch him learn he’d been pulled into this nightmare, but if nothing else they could offer him the comfort of familiarity and camaraderie.

But Hotch… none of them had heard so much as a whisper from him in years. When he disappeared, he did so completely. It’s the kind of thing that would have wounded Spencer deeply under any other circumstances, but after everything Daniel Lewis aka Mr Scratch had put him through, he only ever hoped that Hotch had found every semblance of peace that life could give him. He’d missed him badly at times, but he would have rather they never meet again than have to meet like this.

They decided to wake Derek first.           

Rossi nearly got a fist in the face before Derek pieced together what was happening. Then, he put a fist directly into a concrete wall instead.

“I’m going to regret that when the drugs wear off,” he said sheepishly once he’d calmed down just a bit. “Whatever they dosed us with, they did not skimp. The comedown is gonna suck,” he said, side eyeing Spencer, who pretended not to notice.

The question and answer was the same as with the others. Do you remember anything about who took you? No. Has anyone tried the door? Yes. Derek threw a shoe at the camera for good measure, but of course it just bounced off the plexiglass and landed pathetically on the floor.

The bang of it hitting the concrete was enough to make Hotch finally stir. They all turned to face him, staring helplessly.

His hair was longer than Spencer had ever seen it. Still short, but more relaxed, skimming the bottom of his ears and starting to curl a little at the base of his neck. He was still lean, but some of the muscle had been replaced by fat. He looked just a little softer. Healthier. His face was peaceful. Spencer always remembered him looking tense, even in his sleep. His hair was streaked with grey but somehow this was the youngest Spencer had ever seen him look.

He stirred a little more, blinking at last.

Ah, there was the familiar tension creeping its way back across his face.

Rossi was the one who finally knelt down beside him. “Aaron? I’m so sorry my friend,” he said sadly as recognition flashed in Hotch’s eyes.

“I’m dreaming,” came the familiar voice. Spencer had missed that voice more than he'd known.

Hotch closed his eyes tightly, then opened them again. He looked past Rossi at the rest of them. Spencer raised his hand in a polite greeting, then immediately felt like an idiot for doing so.

“I’m not dreaming,” he said, no trace of emotion in his voice.

“I’m afraid not,” Rossi confirmed.

Hotch fixed his eyes on Rossi again, pushing himself up so he was sitting against the wall. He looked like he was staring at a ghost, trying to figure where the projector was. “When did you get so old?” he said, reaching out a hand to Rossi’s face and poking at it.

Rossi grabbed the offending hand and clasped it between both of his. “Careful. You’re no spring chicken yourself,” he joked.

“No,” said Hotch, still expressionless. “Peter Lewis is dead. This isn’t my life anymore. He’s dead. They told me he died. I saw photos of the body.”

Spencer didn’t know that, but judging by Rossi’s lack of surprise, he pieced together that the older man had likely made sure the witness protection people had passed the photos along.

“Scratch is dead,” Rossi confirmed. “Whoever did this, it’s not him.”

“This. Isn’t. Real,” Hotch insisted, the first sign of emotion entering his voice in the form of hysteria as he pulled his hand away from Rossi and scrambled to his feet. “All of you stay away from me!” he yelled, looking at each of them in turn.

JJ grabbed onto Spencer’s arm. He flinched at first, then put an arm around her and gave what he hoped was a comforting squeeze. Derek took a step towards Hotch, but Emily held him back.

Hotch backed into the corner, looking at them like a caged animal. They were all caged animals now, Spencer supposed. An unfortunately familiar role.

“Hotch,” Spencer said, surprising himself by speaking. They all turned to look at him. He couldn’t back away now. “This is real. I’m so sorry this is happening to you, but Penelope and the rest of our team aren’t here, which means they are out there looking for us. I know it doesn’t feel real. We have all been drugged and you are probably still feeling the effects. I’m sorry. I wish it wasn’t real, but it is,” Spencer said kindly but emphatically.

“We’ll get out of this together,” said Emily. “It’s going to be okay.”

Hotch’s eyes were looking just a little clearer.

“Listen man, I know what you’re feeling. I got out, too, remember? I have a family and I don’t know if they’re alright. I’m right here with you. We’re all on your side. Do you believe me?” asked Derek, and this time Emily let him take a step forward.

 Hotch looked around at all of them again. He assessed them carefully. Then, he turned to the corner, putting his back to them and his hand over his face. It was the closest thing he could get to privacy and Spencer was suddenly grateful to have woken up first to process all of this without being watched.

Well, except for the camera.

They all looked at the floor and did their best to give Hotch space. It was almost a full minute before he finally tuned back around.

There was that stoic expression that Spencer remembered. All that youth and peace was gone from his face in an instant. Spencer hoped so badly that it wasn’t gone for good.

“What do we know?” asked Hotch, crossing his arms.

A moment of silence passed and Spencer wondered if the rest of them felt their hearts breaking into pieces at this cruel facsimile of a reunion.

“Why don’t we start with the last thing each of us remembers?” said Emily, stepping up beside Hotch and looking back at the rest of the room, two natural leaders doing what they do best.

Each of them recounted the details they knew before they woke up in this room.

They had been going about their lives, nothing special. The only common thread they could find was that each of them was alone when their memories stopped.

Derek had been at a picnic with his family and the last thing he remembered was leaving to use the park bathroom. Emily on her way back from the gym. JJ heading out to get groceries. Rossi walking home late from a bar.

“I was driving to work,” said Hotch shortly.

“We’re going to need more detail than that if we want to put together a timeline,” prompted Rossi. "Where do you work?"

Hotch pursed his lips. Spencer could see him strategizing in his head. He wasn’t back in their lives by choice. Spencer understood.

He didn’t get it back when Gideon left, but he got it now. Once you let people in the door, it can be impossible to fully extricate them. Hotch’s old life was filled with trauma he was trying to leave behind and the team were living representations of that past. Spencer couldn’t bring himself to be hurt by the other man’s reticence.

“A legal consultancy in a small town in Kentucky,” he said reluctantly, like divulging the smallest part of his personal life meant inviting the entire FBI right back into it.

“That’s an 8 hour drive,” said Derek. “No wonder you were so out of it compared to the rest of us. You must have been dosed multiple times to keep you under that long.”

“I think you’re right,” he said. “I’m still a bit foggy, if I’m being honest,” he admitted quietly. “What about you, Reid?”

Spencer blinked. “I feel fine.”

“No, I mean what’s the last thing you remember?”

Oh. Right. “I went to sleep in my apartment, then I woke up here,” he said honestly. It wasn’t important what he was doing before he went to sleep.

“Since we can be fairly confident whoever this is took Hotch first,” said Emily, “That probably means they got to you last, Spence. They hit all of us in one day. They must have known the BAU had a day off after closing the last case. They would have had to hit us quick to avoid raising alarms.”

“And the fact that we were all grabbed at different times indicates we’re likely dealing with a single Unsub. Someone highly organized and familiar with each of our routines.”

“The Unsub must have been planning this for a long time. Finding someone in witness protection, especially a former profiler, would take an incredible amount of skill or resources,” said Spence. “They stalked us, learned our routines, then used blitz attacks to stop us from being able to fight back.”

It didn’t take long for them to get into the flow. He felt his panic slipping away as his brain shifted into work mode. At some point they all went from standing to sitting in a circle on the floor.

It felt ridiculous to think about, but Spencer couldn't help but be mildly self conscious being the only one of them in his pajamas, as he was taken in his sleep. He was just glad it was a cold night so he'd been wearing nice, full length ones and not boxers and a shirt or something to that affect. Derek, Emily and JJ were all dressed in comfortable day wear. Rossi and Hotch in suits. Hotch was interesting, though. Spencer had rarely seen him outside of a crisp black suit characteristic of an FBI agent. The one he wore now was navy with a striped tie. It looked good on him.

They put together a more detailed timeline and looked back on the past few months of their lives to discuss anything that could have possibly been out of the ordinary.

The more they talked, the less cagey Hotch was about his life. It was strange to learn more about the day to day he had been living in the years since they’d seen him.

None of them talked about their kids or partners beyond a simple acknowledgement of their existence. They were all acutely aware of the camera on the roof. Whoever was doing this didn’t need to know any more about their families than they already did.

Their phones had been taken and none of them had anything to write with, so they were relying on Spencer to catalogue and compile the information in his brain. He did just that, and after a couple hours they had what was likely a fairly reliable timeline, including geographical information.

Whoever was doing this, they were extremely organized, meticulous, and quick. Not one of them saw it coming. None of them could point to any strange interactions they had over the past months, any red flags, any signs of being followed.

When it came time for Spencer to recount the details of the last months of his life, the others stared at him intently. “I haven’t seen you in person in months,” said Derek. “You don’t look so great, pretty boy.”

“I don’t know how to tell you this, but the bunker we’re currently locked in isn’t making the rest of you look at your healthiest, either.”

“You know what I mean,” said Derek with an affectionate eyeroll.

“You know I was doing some classified work for the bureau. That’s why I couldn’t be there for what happened with Voit,” he said with an apologetic look to Rossi, who waved his hand dismissively. They had already been over this when Spencer first got back. He noticed Hotch raise a curious eyebrow. “I can’t talk about the work since we’re currently being recorded,” he said, nodding up at the camera. “Emily knows the details. It was nothing bad, just research that kept me out off the grid for a while. But if the Unsub could find Hotch in witness protection, then it’s possible they could have been tailing me for that long.”

“That finished months ago,” pointed out Emily. “What have you been doing while you’re on sabbatical?”

“A few guest lecture series at Virginia Tech and spending time with my mom, mostly. I just needed a break. I’m sorry I haven’t been around much. I guess I’ve been a bit distracted. I haven’t seen or experienced anything unusual, though.”

“I hope your mom’s doing okay,” said JJ comfortingly, prompting the rest of them to nod sympathetically.

He just nodded back. She was doing fine, honestly, not that he’d been visiting as often as he should. Easier to let them assume she was the reason he had been absent.

“Why are you doing this?” said Hotch, standing up and looking directly at the camera once they realized none of them had any more details to share at this point. “What do you want from us? Tell us what it is and maybe we can give it to you.”

The camera blinked its red light at them, showing no care for their presence.

Hotch sighed. He looked down at them all helplessly. His eyes stopped short on Derek. He knelt down, staring at something on the side of his head. “What?” asked Derek, leaning away in concern at Hotch’s suddenly very close face.

“Hold still,” said Hotch. He waved Emily over, who shuffled round to his side. “Right… there,” he said, hovering a finger just behind Derek’s ear.

Her eyes widened. Hotch looked at her questioningly, then turned his own head and tucked his hair away so that she could see behind his ear.

“You have it too,” she said. She did the same as him and he checked her over. They looked at each other again and he nodded.

They all stared at them expectantly, though Spencer was pretty sure he knew what they were seeing.

“Puncture marks at the top of the neck, just behind the ear,” Emily explained. “That’s where we were injected.”

Spencer, Rossi and JJ all checked each other. Sure enough, same thing.

“That means we were likely attacked from behind,” said Derek.

“Do we know what we were drugged with?” said Hotch, shooting an almost imperceptible glance in Spencer’s direction.

His skin crawled at the way none of them wanted to look at him, to just come right out and say it. He didn’t particularly want to talk about it. Not really. But they always acted like the subject was poison and it made him feel like he had to walk on eggshells too. Like the reality of his life was harder for them to hear than it was for him to live.

“I am fairly confident it was some kind of opioid,” he said, careful to keep the irritation out of his voice.

JJ put her hand on his and he felt the irritation dissipate.

They cared about him. He knew that. It’s not as if they were wrong to worry. They had talked about it a little over the years, but not enough that it had stopped being awkward every time it came up.

“Are you certain?” asked Rossi. “Could have been a tranquilizer.”

“I’m certain,” said Spencer. “Trust me, I know the feeling.”

Derek reached a foot across the circle and bumped it against Spencer’s knee in a supportive gesture, like saying ‘I’m here with you.’ Emily smiled at him softly, reassuringly.

“It could have been cut with something,” pointed out Hotch.

“The totality of the blackout indicates it may have been cut with a sedative of some kind, as a high enough dose of opioids to include that kind of memory loss reliably could be unsafe and none of us are suffering significant enough side effects to indicate that’s the case. Whoever did this knew exactly what dosage to use,” he explained. “But… I am quite sure it was predominantly an opioid.”

Of course he was sure.

“Jesus,” said JJ. “I’m sorry, Spence.”

“I don’t believe in fate but the universe does seem to have a strange way of conspiring to get you high,” deadpanned Emily.

Derek shot her a harsh look, but Spencer cracked a smile. “I think ‘an Unsub made me do it’ is going to start sounding like ‘a dog ate my homework’ to my sponsor,” he joked back, relief washing over him that they weren’t going to dance around it the entire time they were in here. Not that he’d spoken to his sponsor in more than a year. They didn’t need to know that.

The others smiled too. “You’ll be alright, kid,” said Rossi. “If you kept it together after Mexico, you’ll get through this.”

That would have been a comforting statement if not for the fact that it was completely false. It didn’t matter anyway. Penelope and the rest of the team would find them and get them out before any of this became an issue.

Or they wouldn’t. But he couldn’t think about that yet.

A crease sat deep between Hotch’s eyebrows. “Mexico?”

“You don’t know?” said Emily. “I just assumed you were across everything to do with the Scratch case.”

“No,” said Hotch. “I accepted proof of his death and told the liaison I didn’t want to know anything else.”

“It’s complicated,” said Rossi. “There were other players involved, but the short version is Reid was drugged and framed for murder. It wasn’t pretty.”

“We don’t need to go into the details,” said Spencer, oddly embarrassed at the idea of Hotch knowing just how prone to being victimized he apparently still is. He knew it wasn’t rational, given the things that had happened to Hotch and the fact that all of them were in this locked room as victims together.

Hotch looked at him. Spencer couldn’t read his expression at all. Eventually he just nodded and let it drop.

Before any of them could say another word, there was a banging at the door. The hatch on the other side of the door chamber opened.

Derek got to the door first, trying to rip the hatch on their side open. He shouted at the door “What do you want?! Talk to me! Just tell us what you want!”

There was no response.

The only thing they could see was a hand covered in a thick leather glove sliding a piece of paper in. It was a smaller hand than expected.

He continued pulling but the panel didn’t budge until the other one had closed completely. Derek stumbled backwards as the panel suddenly released.

“It’s soundproof,” Spencer said, despairing. “There was no sound of footsteps on the other side.”

Emily grabbed the note from the chamber. They all whipped around to watch her as she read the words aloud.

“Hello, old friends,” she started, all of them frozen in place and hanging off her every word. “I know you are wondering why you are here. It is simple. You dragged my secrets into the light and then put me in a cage. At first I wanted to get revenge. Then I watched you for a long time and I learned all about you and I learned that we are the same. I saw how you are suffering. How you are scared. All hiding. I remember when I had to hide. For so long I hid even from myself. Now, because of you, I am free. Even when I was in a cage, I was free, because I had no secrets anymore.

I want to give you the freedom you gave to me. Soon, you will not have secrets. You will see that in this room you cannot hide and that when there is nothing left to hide, you will be free.”

Emily looked up from the letter, meeting all of their eyes in turn. There was a painful lump in Spencer’s throat.

If he was being honest with himself, he knew it as soon as he woke up in this room and saw them all there. He knew they weren’t going to make it out in time. He knew the Unsub must have watched him closely enough to know what was going on with him. He knew he wasn’t making it out of this without all of them seeing him for exactly who he is.

Now, he thought, might be the time to fall apart.

[blackblogz]

it's so funny, if you don't know I have a fanfic, but I haven't uploaded in so long (guilty) and I wanted to get back writing it, so I was reading the last chapters to remember where I left. And when I tell u that I was so interested like I wasn't the person thatowrite it 😭😭

[exycourtbesties]

FOX SHORE CELEBRITY ALLISON “ALLI STAR” REYNOLDS HITS COSTAR (& EX) SETH GORDON — NEW EPISODE THIS FRIDAY !

reality TV AU // redraw of jenni jwoww hitting mike the situation, jersey shore ssn1ep7

[feelingthedisaster]

i cannot have a single stable blorbo. in my first read it was neil and wymack. then it was kevin. now i have aaron and jean rotating in my mind with the recurring aparition of dan and andrew. like girl pick one

[turquoisepolo]

Like Real People Do

Based off of this post

@fortheloveofexy

Rated T

Warnings: Allusions to violence(?)

Andrew stared at the large block of marble in front of him. It wasn’t unusual for him to wake up to stone and chisels, however it was exceptionally rare for him to find materials that he himself had not bought. 

Perhaps it was a gift from Aaron or Nicky, he mused. The two had been trying to earn the sculptor’s favour ever since they’d been reunited a couple years prior. Offerings came in chisels, and hand held drill. Sometimes, even in marble, limestone, clay, or bronze. At first Andrew made a point to deliver the gifts back to them, but as time progressed, Andrew warmed up to the sentiment. Not that he’d ever admit it.

He stalked around the marble, lifting some of the smaller chunks, looking for a scroll, a note from whoever delivered the marble. After minutes wasted, Andrew found nothing. 

Nicky and Aaron never have given him something without a note. It piqued his curiosity indeed. 

If Andrew was a religious man, he’d think that perhaps one of the many gods would have left him this gift.

It shouldn’t have mattered who left this gift for him, all that should have mattered was that there were perfectly good blocks of marble just waiting to be formed into a statue to then be sold off to the highest bidder.

In the end, Andrew covered the marble with a wool blanket that was another gift, this one from Renee, and went to go to one of his previous projects. 

—

The marble was uncovered day after day and covered night after night. It haunted him while he worked and while he slept. No matter how hard he tried, Andrew couldn’t get the stupid stone out of his head.

Finally, he relented. 

Andrew picked up his chisel and stared at the marble for a moment. He could create anything with it. An animal, a god, anything. Those two options would sell the highest, however this was Andrew’s craft and no animal or god had ever bothered him like this.

A human, he decided. An annoying human.

His hands worked faster than his head, grabbing one of the smaller chunks of marble and placing it on his work table. 

With one of the larger chisels, he began hacking away at the edges of the marble, shaping it into a rough image of an arm. Years ago, his arms would have ached with the power put into cutting stone, now each strike became easy and it became increasingly difficult not to use too much force.

Once Andrew was finished with the limb, he moved it carefully to the side and went to grab the block of similar size (exact size, really, which made him all the more suspicious of whomever left the marble). 

It took around two hours for him it finish forming the arms into workable pieces. There was a dull ache in his shoulders but it didn’t bother him anymore. 

Now the more difficult part of his labour began. 

Details.

Details had always been the more learned part of his practice. Breaking the stones apart, shaping them with large destructive tools, was what had drawn Andrew into sculpting. It released the violence that burned in his core, violence that was a fire that could not be extinguished. 

Control is what details required, which after the years of controlling everything in his life, was no longer an issue. It was soothing in a different way that breaking things was. Both together was the net that made Andrew sit at the workbench for hours on end, crafting beautiful pieces that were worth nothing in the world’s eyes. 

So Andrew sat, with his chisel, and began working on strong legs with stronger thighs, a runner, much like the mysterious person who had left him with so much marble.

—

If Andrew had thought the marble had haunted him before, it was nothing compared to the way it stuck in his mind now, that it was a statue. 

One would think the stone was alive and breathing, that it was a man with the way it consumed his every thought. 

He had spent every free moment on it, day and night. He woke to go to the worktable and added more and more detail until Andrew could practically feel the skin underneath his hands as he worked to sculpt beautiful runner’s legs, strong sturdy arms, a chiselled jaw, beautiful curls that in Andrew’s mind burned like the hottest fire. High cheekbones that led to icy blue eyes. 

In theory, Andrew’s statue was complete. It stood before him, tall, proud. A bit taller than he was, more beautiful and perfect than he could have hoped. Andrew touched the marble, starting at his face, down to his neck, shoulders, chest. It felt secret, almost wrong, but he was addicted to the way the cold marble’s waist felt in his hands. 

Andrew frowned and took his hand away.

The statue was beautiful, in the way the world expected it to be. Conventionally perfect.

This was not the world’s creation, it was his. 

Andrew grabbed his chisel once more and began cutting lined up and down the bare chest before him. 

It pained him, he felt every cut to his soul, but he did not create beautiful untouchable things.

No, Andrew created broken statues. Survivors. Perhaps I’m  going mad, he thought absently. Of course a statue is just stone, it didn’t really survive anything. But the creation before him was not like anything he’d created before, it was breathing, it was feeling, and Andrew was writing his painful, horrible, beautiful story.

Andrew cupped the man’s face, inhaling before cutting more marks, scratched on one side and a burn on the other.

He stood back and looked at his creation. Beautiful, horrible, perfect.

The sculptor dropped his chisel, and reached for the statue only to drop his hand a breathe away. This was his, but it wasn’t. Andrew wasn’t sure what screw had gone loose in order to make him feel so connected to stone, but he was, and he was losing his mind. 

Andrew closed his eyes, then turned away. It was late, he would sleep and worry about what to do with the statue later.

—

Thud.

Andrew jolted awake. For a second he thought that he was hearing things before another thud erased such thoughts. He slid out of bed and rushed toward his work room.

There was a person, in place of the marble statue he had left last night.

A person, who’s blue eyes, red hair, and scars were burning him alive.

Shit.

Shit.

(NOTE: I will probably make a Part Two, however this is as far as I could get for now, please excuse my mental illness)

[unsat-and-strange]

im restarting something is killing the children because i have the first two volumes and i need to see more fanart and if i have to make it myself so fucking be it

[lnzzzz]

Hello. I've started a kid fic. Neil and Andrew (and Aaron and Kevin) are softer in here. The story revolves around Rogan; their red-haired menace of a son. Hope you guys enjoy. Warning: there is a mention of sui***e and ars*n. These warnings are also in the story's tags. This is the link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/47094019/chapters/118649158

Something went wrong. I’m sure I posted the link as well but when I got notifs that the post was liked, I checked and the link wasn’t there.

[criminalmindsgonewrong]

I just watched hit/run which means what? correct, I am not ok

[fandomtravelers]

Friends that become family

Summary :

A group of criminal profilers who work for the FBI and the family they found/made along the way.

Or in other words oneshots/Drabbles of the BAU team being one big family because I’m obsessed. Mostly Emily Prentiss centric

[ninyard]

Your in universe memes are SENDING me. Idk if you're still making more and would be open to requests, but could you do some aaron centric ones? Possibly with twinyard shenanigans? I just love the twinyards soooo much <3

there’s an embarrassingly low amount of effort put into this but I wanted to do SOMETHING for u!!! I have some plans for more Aaron centred posts in the future so here’s this in the meantime

[whatevsman16]

Thoughts on Across the Spiderverse

FUCK THIS MOVIE IS PRETTY

My boy Miles is trying so fuckin hard

My girl Gwen is trying so fucking hard

JOE QUESADA FOUND WEEPING IN HIS OFFICE AT THE SIGHT OF PETER B. PARKER GETTING TO BE A FATHER

Hobie and Pavitr are so fucking funny

Spoilers down below

Bro, Miguel, chill. Like, I get it. Buddy fucked up? But the whole “you were a mistake thing? Nah, fuck you too, bro.”

Oh, hi Donald Glover. Like straight up for real live action Donald Glover.

Dude, why tf is the Spot scary? Like, this dude skeeves me the fuck out

The whole Spider Society looks so fucking cool

Hobie lives to instigate and I respect that.

Real talk, I like that at no point was there a straight up pissing contest between him and Miles. Dude is a total bro, and I’m here for it

HOW THE FUCK DO YOU MAKE ANOTHER UNCLE AARON CENTRIC TWIST AND MAKE IT EFFECTIVELY SCARY?

PROWLER MILES ARE YOU SERIOUS?

WHAT DO YOU MEAN “TO BE CONTINUED?”

[hotvintagepoll]

mini poll idea: the women? and/or the looks in the technicolor fashion show sequence in the women?

(thank you mod for all you do)

Does anyone know why there is a technicolor fashion sequence in the middle of this otherwise black-and-white movie? Did Adrian refuse to work unless he got some free advertisement for his new ready-to-wear collection of Munchkin hats and insane sleeves?

I promise I'll get to the actual posts I promised eventually, but I started a new job this week and have been too swamped to actually type up thoughts :)

(If you'd like to watch the movie before voting, here's a link to watch for free. As I've mentioned before, this is a very fun movie if you like watching rich, toxic, privileged white ladies chew the scenery, but it's also a very white-centric movie. Some scenes are extremely problematic/triggering with how they treat women of color, including a downright cruel treatment of Butterfly McQueen's character in a racist scene that goes unquestioned by the movie as a whole. Just want to put that fair warning there.)

[glendover]

all my Aaron Minyard centric fanfics

pov Aaron Minyard and usually with a focus on the twinyards

low pain tolerance (words: 2.628) - Aaron gets his monthly migraine shot, but he freaks out and needs Nicky and Andrew to comfort him (with a hint of Kevaaron)

stray kittens and other things I’ve found (words: 4.460) - pre aftg, Aaron and Andrew find a kitten on their way back home, Aaron finds out some other things too, especially that kittens and Andrew aren’t scary

driving past the red lights into your arms (words: 3.624) - Andrew teaches Aaron how to drive a car, but on a ride where Neil joins them they have a fall out, that is until Andrew finally communicates with Aaron

I love you 120bpm (words: 5.235) - kevaaron!!! Aaron’s smart watch sends him an alert mind make out session (I made a post about this idea years ago and then one day just wrote this)

can my silence be enough? (words: 13.745) - Aaron is mute and through care and love from his family he finds his voice back (with a bit of kevaaron)

don’t go where I can’t follow (words: 8.579) - pre aftg, Nicky kills Tilda and Drake, Andrew and Aaron live at a foster home and learn about all the things that make a family

linearity keeps the world moving (words: 3.262) - aftg x w.bg crossover 1, Aaron plays a brutal online game to keep his brother alive unfortunately the game isn’t really fair

the temporary death of Andrew Minyard (words: 3.795) - aftg x w.bg crossover 2, Aaron begs Andrew to let him kill him, really it’s for the greater good Andrew just let him kill you

I’d die to be somebody you could love (words: ongoing) - heavy focus on the twinyards, Aaron struggles with his life, but what could fix him is patching up his relationship with his twin so he tries and Andrew tries too

deafened by the sound of it all (words: 28.684) - kevaaron!!!! and I mean it, basically Aaron has a secret crush on Kevin and while that secret gets out a few others get revealed too (with some twin bonding AND a little plot twist so I can’t say too much)

[miss-athene]

So, lately I've seen quite a few people say stuff like Nico' is not a token gay, or that back in 2013 context blah blah blah. Well, I have thoughts...

Because good, actual queer-centric rep in children's media has been done at least 100 times better and a lot more genuinely than Rick, that too long before Rick even thought of this idea for tokenism and brownie points.

For instance, Heather has two mommies came out in 1989! It does quite a good job of queer representation and same-sex parenting.

If we go a bit more behind, we have Reflections of a rock lobster by Aaron Fricke which was published, of all times, in 1981.

Again, in 1992, we had sapphic representation with Annie on my mind.

If you are willing to delve and research, you can find some pretty good queer representation for teens and children which came out in much harsher times than Rick's.

Point is, Nico is not a character to be celebrated or deemed as extraordinary rep. He was outed, got shoved into a one-dimensional relationship, and was reduced to a caricature. If this isn't telling of tokenism, I don't know what is. Plus we get no buildup or hints. That's very sketchy too.

Their have been entire books dedicated to queer rep for young kids and teens. Rick is not a revolutionary for giving his token gay a forced outing.

Everyone is entitled to their opinions but I feel Rick defenders and Nico fans really stretch a lot.

Lastly, I'd like to add that this is my personal opinion and I mean no ill. We can always agree to disagree.