#not ginger true detective

[sil-te-plait-tue-moi]

True detective characters as animals: what would each character be?

COOL ASK

lots of weird horses on my Pinterest moodboards for idler wheel/my heart is a bloodhound rust stuff so take that as you will

seen a fair share of rust discourse tying him to spooked horse which completely totally see physically, but honestly if you’ve ever read Black Beauty children’s classic then… you know it goes fucking deeper man

i read this crazy detailed tattoo analysis once ages ago about rust’s tattoos, and the op went into amazing detail about ravens (the bonebird on his arm) and symbolism and mythology whatnot it was really good im underselling it really, im going to find it and reblog it and you MUST READ

it was something along the lines of sacrificing the human world in pursuit of wisdom/great truth/spirituality which i thought was cool yummy cool crazy has stuck with me ever since i read it

Marty would be a dog and im not sure what breed but not a “cool” sigma (if you will) breed (I don’t know dogs), not a small dog but not a huge dog either, my mans just a DAWGGGG but is loyalty one of his strong suits?

no

erm who else is there

maybe this is a stretch but grown audrey gives me cat vibes, like an unfriendly cat (when i think about her too long, my chest starts to hurt).

Maggie would be like some kind of bird and im not just saying that because her name borders on magpie but like idk its just the vibe, like definitely feel she would not be a bird of prey she’d just eat worms and stuff, nothing too scary, maybe like a robin. couldn’t see her being a mammal tbf

hmm may end here

[sam-rothstein]

Joseph Sikora and Matthew McConaughey in

True Detective 1.04 — "Who Goes There"

[gjdraws]

thinking about the au where Marty is Crash's handler....

[spn2006]

i love the side of the spn fandom ive stumbled into thats actually just a gateway to the ethel cain/richard siken/true detective/flowers in the attic/ginger snaps/the carnivorous lamb cinematic universe

[followthemadrabbit]

⸽⸽T⸽⸽r⸽⸽u⸽⸽e⸽⸽ ⸽⸽D⸽⸽e⸽⸽t⸽⸽e⸽⸽c⸽⸽t⸽⸽i⸽⸽v⸽⸽e⸽⸽

ₛₑₐₛₒₙ ₁

ᴅɪʀ. ᴄᴀʀy ᴊᴏᴊɪ ꜰᴜᴋᴜɴᴀɢᴀ

[gamercats-fight]

Stray Cat from Stray vs [REDACTED] from Ghost Trick: Phantom Detective. Vote for your fav!!

Need help picking? Check down here!

Stray cat - Blue Twelve Studio - 2022 - Ginger tabby:

-Because they are from a wonderful game where you can meow

-Very clever, even if not accompanied by their friendly robot! Fast enough to outrun a lot of zurks! Brave enough to venture into dangerous places to try to open the city to reunite with their family! Can knock a chess game over, and curl up on the chest of a robot. Helps a robot grandma get what she needs to make a poncho for someone else.

-kitty faces the horrors and comes out alive. very good

-This is just a regular cat. The game is based on being a regular cat. I think that’s neat.

-This cat is the main character of the video game that they’re in and survived hell and back by traveling within a city where robots and zurks live.

[REDACTED] - CAPCOM - 2010 - Magic black cat:

-He is DEAD and has GHOST POWERS. He can TIME TRAVEL. He has a LOVING CAT DAD as his OWNER and the only family they have left is EACH OTHER. I would go into detail but that would involve spoiling the best mystery game ever written. You should play Ghost Trick. This stupid cat has not left my brain in months. He's haunting me. Which is fitting because he is a ghost. Did I mention he's a ghost cat what is cooler than a ghost cat.

-most special little guy in the world. hes HUGE spoilers for the game btw but um. yea <3

-Because [REDACTED] is the true Schroeder’s cat, he is both dead and alive at the same time and has really cool ghost powers. Also, he can’t read!

-If you haven’t played Ghost Trick, I tragically cannot tell you the spoilers, but this cat is sweet and determined and got a sad man through some rough times.

-I played the game on stream for my friend and they said he reminds them of their own dead cat bc they look alike. A vote for [REDACTED] is a vote for Riley!

[winterlogysblog]

Fairy Scents ft. Kiane Kids Scent Headcanons

It's well established that each fairy has a scent that is associated with a flower or a herb. So far we have confirmed scents for each notable fairy we have been introduced to.

So after some quick research I found some info about these flowers and their scents

King - Gold Osmanthus

Osmanthus Wine tastes same as I remember, but where are those who share the memory XD

Origins: China

In the language of flowers, they carry the meaning of love and romance, symbolising true love and faithfulness

Smells like a mix of juicy peaches, ripe apricots with soft leather or suede.

Elaine - Lavender

Origins: Mediterranean

Represent purity, silence, devotion, serenity, grace, and calmness.

Biblical meaning of lavender symbolizes purity, devotion, and love

Delicate, sweet smell that is floral, herbal, and evergreen woodsy at the same time

Helbram - White Rose

Origins: Ancient Greece

Symbolize loyalty, purity, and innocence.

Combination of floral and fruity notes, with hints of honey and jasmine

Fun fact: A White Rose is what King used to kill Helbram (the first time) it turned red because of the blood

Gerheade - Mint

Origins: Mediterranean

Symbol of Hospitality and Wisdom

Gloxinia - Ginger

Origins: Maritime Southeast Asia

In many cultures, ginger is considered a symbol of love

Used in religious rituals to symbolize cleansing, protection and blessing.

Warm and spicy, with a hint of sweetness

Lancelot - Lemon

Origins: Unknown (said to be first grown in Northeast India, Northern Myanmar, or China)

Symbol of purity and cleansing

Headcanon Time

Since Nakaba hasn't spoken out about their scents I'll give my thoughts on the matter.

Lancelot introduced fruits into the mix of scents and Gloxinia smells like Ginger which is a root so I went ham with this.

Nasiens - Oleander or Sunflower

Oleander are toxic which is very fitting for our Mad Herbalist

Smells like Vanilla

Oleander symbolizes love, beauty, and resilience

I want one of Kiane's kids to smell like Sunflowers cause you know... Sunflower

Sunflowers also don't have a distinct smell so it's actually fitting for Nasiens since he grew up thinking he's human so there's really no natural fairy-like smell he could have detected from himself

Sunflower represents longevity, lasting happiness, adoration, and loyalty

Sixtus - Peach

Since Sixtus looks extremely like King I think it's only fitting if his scent is close to King's as well

Peaches symbolizes longevity

Belte - Jasmine

Belte gives Helbram energy and he kinda looks like him too so his scent also needs to give Helbram energy

Jasmine stands for purity, simplicity, modesty and strength.

Zana and Zillian - Blackberry and Raspberry

Since they're twins I want their scents to match

Blackberries are mild, sweet and slightly acidic scent, with earthy and woody nuances.

Some believed that blackberries contain properties of abundance and prosperity

Raspberries are fruity, sweet and slightly acidic

Raspberries are symbol of kindness in Christian art.

Tioreh - Pink Hyacinth

Phao - Lily of the Valley

Symbol of purity, joy, love, sincerity, happiness and luck,

Has a floral and green scent, with fresh and slightly sweet notes

I want one of Kiane's kids scents to come from the earth, something underground. There's an underground Orchid but it smells bad so that won't do so I specifically looked for a flower that has an earthy scent. I also want it to be PINK for Tioreh

Sweet, robust, and earthy

Pink hyacinths symbolize playful joy.

[carnalhaus]

Hiiii!! Old bat asker here!^^

Sorry to take up space in your inbox but I was wondering if you could list the media (movies and shows) inspirations behind American Tradition?? I am so obsessed with American Tradition and things that remind me of that same sort of aesthetic? Like Ethel Cain, House of 1000 Corpses, american gothic stuff. Nothing quite like some good ol' Americana trauma!!

-  🦇

i remember you !!!

and i definitely can. most of these aren’t really americana based in any sense, but they contribute to the general atmosphere and image.

here’s some of the movies and shows:

the firefly trilogy (house of 1000 corpses, the devils rejects, 3 from hell) (literally any other rob zombie movie)

gummo

palo alto

jennifer’s body

ginger snaps

pulp fiction

true detective (season 1)

the florida project

i do have a few movies people have recommended me because it reminds them somewhat of the story/symbolism/whatever, like malena, natural born killers, the place beyond the pines, trash humpers, and the doom generation.

i do think more gritty, uncomfortable, lower budget movies tend to fit the intended vibe more. i’m still working on the visual story, because it’s very specific in my head, but i’m pretty happy with how recent art for it is turning out.

[sparklingmineraltequila]

American Wasteland

Note: Part three. I realised I never specified an exact timeframe so I'm clarifying that this is the last few year/months of him being undercover, about '94 Rust. I'm an ao3 girl so I'm figuring out how to lay fics out on Tumblr. Deeply appreciate everyone who's reading

Warnings: Drugs, drinking, swearing, smut insinuations and references to past violence but it is a True Detective fic, so

'Do you think we can ever truly talk about God?' Cassandra pipes up, as she's smearing herself in her pre-work lather of coco butter. When the sheen of the grease hits the light, it emphasises the taught expanse of her stomach and the tendons in her calfs. An amalgamation of divinity and delicate mortality; the pathetic fragility of the flesh, blood, skin and bones all knotted together, craving cosmic importance. 'Our soul, if there even exists such a thing,' Rust thinks, 'is just a ghost in a machine.'

Rust glances over to where she is standing in a matching lace, navy set, leg elegantly poised on the counter as she continues smoothing the ointment onto herself. He's lying on the mattress, still fully clothed, as he pinches his cigarette and stares back up to the ceiling. The events of the past few days, a visit to a meth lab in Galveston with Ginger followed by a drug and booze binge, have fucked his cognitive workings into a scramble of old memories and new sounds: the smell of gunpowder on his biker jacket, Cassandra's absent minded humming of an old Willie Nelson song, the brown sludge in his nail beds from when he was draining his Harley's oil, the black grease mixing with the residue of the red, Texan dust. He wills himself to give her a semi-coherent answer,

'I don't believe there's anyone there to talk to,' he drawls.

'I said about, not to.'

'What's your point, Cass? I ain't got the fuckin' will, tonight.' Rust thinks he can feel the chemical reactions behind his eyes; his enzymes breaking down proteins, the Speed throbbing through his neurotransmitters.

She rolls her eyes at him as she swaps leg, 'Chill out, I'm only wondering what you think. You know I value your opinion.'

He stiffens at that. 'Don't do this, baby,' he thinks 'It ain't worth whatever you think it is.' She's been doing this more often, letting that docility seep through the crevices of her impassible constitution. She hates herself for it, he can hear it in the acerbic tinge of her words, when she says shit like that to him. Sometimes, when he really concentrates at the expression in those dark pools of her eyes, he knows she believes she has deserved every horrific thing that has ever happened to her.

'I ain't really got an opinion on this matter, yet,' he says through an exhale of smoke, 'Why don't you tell me yours?'

'I know why, like, logistically we talk about God in modern languages, that's self explanatory. But it feels wrong, like we're corrupting the actual concept of a god.'

Rust doesn't look at her but says, 'Go on.'

'I think speaking about God in a dead language preserves him. Dead languages are frozen in time: absolute. They don't allow the transmutation or fucking corruption that modern languages do which are always evolving with dialects and younger generations,' she pauses, slipping her leg down from the counter as she slides her loose Budweiser t-shirt over her body, much to Rust's dismay. She continues,

'Also, on a more personal, aesthetic note, I think worship sounds a lot more metal in a language that isn't the one I use to order at fuckin' Waffle House.'

Rust snorts at that. He hears the slight smile in her voice as she replies,

'I know it sounds dumb when I condense it like that but that's literally my entire point. Worship is so often so dependent on the words we use and we venerate God in the same language that the televangelists or politicians use to con people on TV, the one that the girls at work use to sweet talk a customer into a lap dance? Seems fucked and incoherent to me.'

'I'm sure you can do that shit in a dead language too.'

'Nah, they existed before us. Whatever we try to imbue them with means fuckall, they don't participate in the reality of our information anymore.'

That gets him to sit up, the conversation staring to sober him up, 'Reality of information, huh? You've been stealing my books again, Cass?' a trace of a smirk on his lips. She huffs at him, stood in the middle of trailer,

'You were gone for three days and class is off for Spring Break, what the hell else was I supposed to do?'

'Buy some decent nightwear?' he remarks dryly. The reference to another one of her seduction tactics gets a mischievous smile from Cassandra . The past couple of weeks, she has been going to bed in some very short and, sometimes, very sheer nightdresses. Despite having made the chivalrous choice of sleeping on the floor of the trailer, chivalry being a virtue Rust is largely unacquainted with these days, his isn't unaffected by the sight of her sprawled out, almost beside him. Especially, when the nightdress naturally rides up during the night; a factor that has forced him to take too many a late night smokes outside.

'Nah, not when I know you enjoy it so much.'

'Cassandra,' Rust warns.

'Shit, full name?' she teases, 'You know, you're the only person who I let call me Cass.' She walks towards him, crawling onto the mattress and lying down next to him to look up at the ceiling. Rust doesn't move, not a goddamn inch. 'She'll know,' he thinks, 'Fuck, she probably already does.' Girls like Cassandra, girls too sexy and too tough for their age, always know. They have to. Growing up in a trailers, apartments and halfway houses, knowing that their tips which become their meals are based on how long they'll allow a drunk patron to stare at their tits or pat their asses as they serve them. They can smell male attraction from a mile off, tongues running over canines in mouths addled with whiskey and cigarettes. Oh yeah, they can tell and they know exactly how to play that game.

Rust wonders if he should feel some resentment towards her for it. He doesn't.

'Oh yeah?' he mutters, unimpressed.

'Yeah.'

'Lucky me.'

'You are. You know how many of your brothers would kill to give me a nickname?'

'Sounds to me like they already do,' his tone being harsher than he intended.

She goes silent and Rust hates himself more now than he did the other day, when he smashed a meth cook's head into a sink 14 times for screwing the Iron Crusaders' supply. The fragments of teeth and filaments of saliva mixed with blood that were left in the sink have nothing on the current look in Cassandra's eye.

'Don't be an asshole, Crash. You know I don't enjoy any of it,' her voice hoarse.

For the first time this evening, he looks her in the eye. 'I know,' tone steady but with a trace of true acknowledgment. Cassandra picks up on it, nodding her head. In these two innocuous actions, both have apologised and are forgiven. She stands up and grabs her duffel bag,

'You gonna swing by, tonight?'

He fucking wants to. Badly. He'd stomach the neon lights fucking with his Synesthesia, the lurid couches and the other Crusaders betting on how well each girl would 'take it'. He'd endure the fucking mire just to have Cassandra looking at him when she's on stage, the lights making her white smile a cool lilac.

'Nah. Can't tonight. Something at the clubhouse.'

'Oh, ok.'

'Poor kid. Like a kicked puppy,' he thinks. For the second time tonight, he can't stand that look in her eyes. He offers,

'You want a ride to work, baby? I'm headed in that direction, anyway.'

Something shifts slightly in her eye. The ball is back in her court. She savours it, rolls it over her tongue as victory coats it in something sweet and tart. Never one to show mercy, Cassandra toys with him,

'You'd give me a ride even if you weren't headed anywhere.'

Rust scoffs, fixing her with a look of chagrin; gleam of affection ,almost, trepidation in his eyes,

'I know, baby. I know.'

[xoxostarzzz]

Something Stupid like 'I love you'.

- eventually chuuran (and reader)

- slowburn enemies to lovers

- gender neutral reader (gn!reader)

- will have multiple chapters

------

Something Stupid like ‘I love you.’

Another horrible morning on your way to the stupid place people call work, the’Armed Detective agency’. Which, you think is the most stupid, unimportant place in the world. The people you work with the most is a sadistic doctor, two siblings complicated relationship, a maniac, a guy who needs anger management, a guy who looks like he should be retired, children, and an orphan. And, worst of all, a narcissistic childish brat called Ranpo Edogwa, who just swears he’s the best person in the world. And worst of all? Everyone at your godforsaken work decides to support him!

And the enemy of your stupid work is equally horrible. It’s ran by a lolicon, has abused kids, a controlling “mother”, emo siblings, fangirl, grown man with a bowl cut, a ginger. And worst there? Another dude with anger issues, who’s short as can be, has a haircut that looks like a five year old is his barber, another ginger, and wears the lolicon’s old hat. Chuuya Nakahara. He has mood swings like crazy, and is completely insufferable. Both of these guys make your life miserable, except they really don’t try to…

Well, Ranpo totally tries to get on your nerves. But he’s just naturally a brat. And Chuuya has anger issues for days, but that’s also just how he is. So, why do they annoy you so much in particular? They make you feel weird, just them too. You’d never admit it, but the feeling was….

Oh. You’re here. You could tell by the sudden candy wrapper on the ground, you looked to the right, and the Armed Detective Agency building was there, so was Ranpo. One hand on his hip while the other was on the stick of the lollipop in his mouth, eyes closed like always. Your eyes changed to look at him, side glancing, and quickly became more annoyed just at the sight of him.

“Why are you here?”

He snickered, ready to make some smart comment. ‘I work here’, ‘because I’m the greatest detective’. He seriously thought that he was the best, better than everyone, and that everyone envied him. That’s how he is.

“Because I, the greatest detective Ranpo Edogwa, work at the Armed Detective Agency.”

You made a ‘tsk’ sound, as you clacked your tongue down. Not looking at him anymore, he responded exactly like you imagined. In fact, since he’s so “smart”, he probably knew you thought he’d say that, and said that just to annoy you. You were just about to step inside of the building- why would you want to be near him? Especially when he’s making his stupid smart comments. But, no. He decided he wasn’t done yet, and grabbed you by the sleeve.

“They aren’t here yet. They’re in the cafe.”

You rolled your eyes at that, what was he playing at? Why would he help you? He’s too annoying- too bratty, to do that. Or, as he puts it, “too great”- not that he is. You looked towards him again, head turned instead of the measly side glance like before. Deciding to play at his game, and to let him get what he wants. To be honest, it was really just to stop him from whining like a little kid by the end of it.

“All of them? Then why are you here?”

“I went to get my candy, and didn’t know where to go.”

Theres another thing that ticks you off. He, as a grown man, oldest in the Armed Detective Agency- doesn’t know how to get from one place to another. How do you, as a twenty-six year old, not know how to get from one place to another? If you’re so great then lead yourself to the cafe for gods sake.

“And what do you want me to do about that?”

True, what does he expect you to do? Lead him there? As if you’d ever lead someone as annoying as him to the cafe.

“Lead me.”

You could almost feel how happy he was with himself for saying that. He knows you despise him, he knows he’s the worst in the world to you. He just purposely annoys you because you don’t see his “greatness”, it’s ironic.

“What would ever make you think I’d lead you?”

His eyes finally opened, oh how nice of him to let his eyes fall onto yours. It’s the least he could do anyways… But, as if he’d overwork his “ever so great self”, wouldn’t want to have the greatest detective tired, would we? He gave some stupid smirk, as if he could already tell how upset you’re gonna be. He only knows how to make you look dumb and him look even smarter just cause he planned all of this out already. He planned on how to make you look, and seem, as stupid as possible.

“Because Tanizaki locked the door, so you’d be stuck here with me if you don’t. Now lead me.”

He’s really just so annoying. He’s the kinda dude who’d purposely annoy you your whole life just to amuse himself and make himself look even better. He stopped smirking, and just stared at you with his baby puke colored eyes. You groaned, before walking away from the door, clearly having an annoyed walk, you couldn’t make it anymore obvious. The steps were angry, yet slow where it didn’t make you look stupid- just mad. He did some little jump like a five year old, then started following you. One hand now holding the lollipop in it, other fixing his hat.

He watched you walk in front of him, as if he was fascinated… with how horrible you are, obviously. Seriously, who gets that upset just over having to lead the worlds greatest detective? You should be honored! You should thank him! This should be an amazing thing to you, thats how stupid people like you should feel when he tells them to lead him somewhere. Who do you think you are to get mad cause’ you have to do something for the smartest man in the world?

The lolipop went back in his mouth, he stopped fixing his hat. He also had picked up the candy wrapper off of the ground from earlier. No, not out of the goodness of his heart. Just to look at the candy wrapper, and mess around with it. Annoying crinkles from it were heard from behind you, he was probably just trying to annoy you again. He looooves seeing stupid people upset, stupid people like you. The crinkling continued, louder and louder. You eventually got fed up, and spoke in a somewhat louder voice than your usual one, as you side glanced behind you to look at the annoying, horrible man.

“Would you just shut up already?”

He snickered again. Great. What an amazing and communicative response. Really gave you a good answer. You rolled your eyes again, is that all you can do? Stopped by the door entrance, he took this as the perfect opportunity to put the crinkled up, germ ridden, candy wrapper trash, in your shirt. Just from the back, as if it was the most funny and rude thing in the world. He’s so amused and confident with his actions, he happily hummed to himself as he closed his eyes while walking into the cafe with all of the other memberers of this stupid agency.

You were about to walk away, but no. Ranpo had decided to drag you in, your eyes angrily shot to the annoying mastermind infront of you, but your eyes only met the back of his head. You then had also realized, one of the cafe ladies had seen you walk in. Now you didn’t want to make yourself seem rude, or pouty, so you stopped whining. Smiled at the lady softly, just to be slammed down in a seat at the bench of a table, where Ranpo was. So he’s not done annoying you yet? How nice of him.

“Aren’t you happy to be in the cafe with the greatest detective in the world?”

“No.”

“Rude.”

He also completely hated this, but as long as you’re upset, he’s happy. So he just had his chin rest on the palm of his hand, as he looked at the cafe area, where their usuals were being made. Ranpo was getting his usual of the sugariest treat they have there, and the sugariest candy filled drink they have too. Yours was being made too, you got one snack/treat and a drink. If you looked from behind Ranpo (which you wouldn’t, you don’t want to see Ranpo at all), you would see Dazai snickering. He probably took part of this, maybe cause Kunikida couldn’t come today. Whatever.

A lady came over and put what you two normally get on the table, you moved as far away from Ranpo as possible as you ate. He ignored it, and happily ate his sugary junk while his eyes were closed. He completely ignored you now that sweets was in the question, no wonder he’s single. You eventually finished your food, you had to make sure you didn’t look at him or else you’d not be able to finish it at all. You took the drink, and looked out the window, not looking at him at all. He took note of this, and said,

“You’re supposed to agknowledge me.”

You looked at him for once, clearly unhappy by that statement. He dragged you here, against your will, and still has the nerve to complain about you not wanting anything to with it, or him? And he swears he’s smart, if he really is that smart- why can’t he just leave you alone for once?

“Oh I’m sorry, princess. How is your food?”

“Was that that hard to do?”

“Yes.”

He rolled his eyes this time, before quickly changing his attitude. He happily hummed, and went back to his sweets. You sighed, and looked out the window again.

You’re gonna be here for a while, huh?

[palmviolet]

true detective s1ep4 thoughts (featuring queer theory this time)

— there's definitely something going on parallels-wise between charlie lange + ledoux and rust. whether that's a rust and marty thing, re: marty making a distasteful joke ("someone saying insane shit in your ear all day long") and also rust's reluctance to get drawn into marty's personal + intimate business ("it's none of my business") as a counter to lange showing the photos of dora to ledoux — or a crash and ginger thing, re: ledoux being a meth cook and sharing his mixes with lange the way ginger makes rust snort a special mix made just for him, and ledoux being 'bigger' than lange and lange therefore needing to indulge and listen to him, the way rust has to let himself be manhandled and roped into things as crash. all these parallels are designed to erode the line between cop and criminal.

— similarly, this episode is obsessed with personae. as i've spoken about before, the whole rust being a cop pretending to be a biker pretending to be a cop thing collapses the boundaries between state-sanctioned violence and state-condemned violence: rust's whole role undercover is not to 'do good' — this is why we're never told about the convictions his work led to, the cartels he shut down — but to participate wholly in that violent environment with the gloves off. this is why he points a gun at the kid even as he's telling him to hide in the bathtub; this is why he's the one to carry tiger out of the cupboard, the first to enter the stash house; this is why the coke comes straight out of the evidence locker. rust, here, is not not police: rather, he is the epitome of police, police with its mask taken off. (ring any bells...?)

— this is made most explicit when marty asks rust, "what happens they clock you're not you?" because, after all, who is 'you'? it plays into rust's own rejection of selfhood and highlights that this — the undercover work, the consequent fragmenting of his personality — is one of the reasons for that rejection, that police identity is no identity, because it is defined only in opposition to criminal violence and really there is no difference.

— and, again, the biker gang serves as an exaggerated symbol for the institution's culture in terms of homosociality. as expressed by sedgwick and innumerable queer theorists since, homosociality is the structure of a misogynistic — and also homophobic — society that places value and complexity only on relationships between men, positioned to shore up masculinity. women, who exist only for sex, are irrelevant or else mere conduits for these male-male dynamics. this gives rise to the perverse intimacy between hypermasculine and homophobic men and also to the homoerotic potential of love triangles (as we'll get to with ep6). this is why, in the biker bar scene, all the half-naked women are in the background, out of focus, while rust is thrown up against the wall and frisked; why we see a woman's legs in a skirt behind ginger but no more of her, because it's rust getting groped instead.

— this is designed to epitomise a misogynistic society and the misogynistic institution that is the police. throughout the series we watch marty play out his personal dramas — and we watch his and rust's relationship develop — against the literal backdrop of a murdered woman. she is scenery, at best a plot device, while the men are tangled up with each other. this is implicit in the actual police scenes, but made explicit with the bikers, just the way everything else is — the gloves come off and the police's intimacies, as well as its violence, are unveiled.

— this is getting long but a quick point about the role of colour grading: yellow obviously plays a significant role in the series, w/r/t the yellow king. as a colour it represents decay and sexual corruption and, in TD, occult knowledge. rust is frequently associated with yellow — even the 2012 interview scenes have him shot in a warmer tone, while marty is against a cooler, bluer backdrop. now, it's a very yellow series lmao so i'm not going to read into this too far but in this episode we get a very specific colour moment: when marty follows tyrone's girlfriend into the rave. the rave is hazy, trippy, and yellow. it implies they're getting closer to the yellow king — it also implies marty's descent into a corrupt world. think about the dichotomy of yellow and blue: yellow as rotting fruit, bruises, and blue as a police siren. blue is institutionally-regulated, blue is clean and proper, blue is the right side of history. so when marty moves out of the yellow temptations and follows tyrone to find out where ledoux is, the lighting turns vivid blue, to show he's doing his job as a cop; despite his sexual corruption, he's doing the right thing.

— but the strip club where he met tyrone's girlfriend was also lit blue, red and blue, and she was wearing a leotard emblazoned with the american flag (a choice taking aim at american misogyny overall) — and marty's quest to find ledoux leads to a state-sanctioned execution. he's wearing blue as he corners tyrone, and he's wearing blue as he harasses his wife at the hospital. once again, the series sets up a false dichotomy, this time through its visuals — there is no right side of history, and the final climax comes in a forest of murky green.

[love-fictional-men]

Save a Horse, Ride a Statesman

Chapter 1: First Day

Summary: You just landed the job of your dreams, working IT at the revered Statesman organization. Even better, Agent Whiskey asks for your help inputting case files for your special project.

Warnings: daddy kink, age gap, power dynamics, power imbalance, lots of smut, unprotected sex, oral (both receiving), PinV.

Word Count: 3698

You take a deep breath, and look up at the large, reflective building towering above you. You can’t believe you’re here, moving across the country to New York for a new job at a prestigious espionage organization. A part of you doubted if you even deserved to be here, but your qualifications spoke for themselves. This felt like a dream come true. You rang the brass bezeled door bell and the doors immediately open.

“Come on in, take the elevator to the top floor and meet us in the conference room straight ahead,” a familiar, feminine voice projects over the intercom.

You take the elevator to the top floor, and as the doors open you make your way directly to the conference room. You open the doors, and see Ginger Ale, the woman you had your first interview with, gives you a smile and pats the seat next to hers. A man with a cowboy hat, suit and glasses sits at the head of the table, along with hologram projections of other men dressed in a similar fashion. You make your way over to Ginger and take a seat.

“It’s so nice to meet every one of you, and I just want to say it’s been an honor being selected to join your team,” you state, attempting to hide your nervousness.

“I hope to aid making Statesman the most effective counter-terrorism organization in all the world,” you declare. The man at the head of the table looks at you with warm, soft welcoming eyes and smiles before saying,

“Well sugar, it’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Agent Whiskey, but you can call me Jack. Why don’t you go on with tellin’ us your plans to optimize Statesman?” You feel your breath leave your body after briefly admiring his warm brown eyes,

“Actually, my code name is Grenadine but you can call me (y/n),” you say with a smile. You always hated older men addressing you by anything other than your name, especially in front of your constituents. Being a woman in tech, you learned how to navigate these situations tactfully. After a brief pause you open you stand up and all eyes are on you. You notice Agent Whiskey quickly look you up and down before readjusting his eyes toward your face. You clear your throat to speak.

“I plan, with the help of all of you, to review case files dating back as far as possible. I developed an algorithm to review areas of success and opportunity. This will aid Ginger Ale in creating tools to succeed in further missions. I need to review everyone’s case files. They’ll be imported into a new data base and analyzed. Patterns and trends will be created. Ginger and I will be able to review these trends and create more advanced tools to aid agents in the field.” You sit back down and place your hands on top of one another, and lean back a smidge. Ginger gives you a brief smile before asking,

“Does anyone have any questions about Grenadine’s project?”

Jack, lifting his fist away from his chin, turns his chair to you and Ginger.

“And just how secure is this data base darlin?” Again with the pet names, but there’s something about him that makes it permissible. Maybe it’s his sweet southern drawl. Perhaps its his strong, large hands and broad nose. Whatever it is, you cannot deny that Agent Whiskey has an intoxicating effect. He’s smooth, sweet and warm, just like his code name. You resist the urge to consume any more of his charm, attempting to stay sober in front of your peers.

“It’s all stored locally on servers in a secure location. I’ve coded several firewalls that will alert those on a need to know basis if there’s any detection of infiltration. At that point, the entire system will be wiped,” you respond. The holographic Statesmen around the table appear impressed, but Jack doesn’t change his stern facial expression.

“That’s a mighty fine kill switch you got there Miss Grenadine, but ain’t it gonna defeat the purpose if all this information is lost?” Jack asks, without breaking eye contact.

“It won’t be lost, we aren’t destroying the original documents. Those will live in secure locations. I doubt anyone would be willing to physically break into a Statesman’s office to rifle through file boxes like it’s the 70s. And even if they do,” you say, warmly smiling at him, “they’d be caught between in-between a Statesman’s lasso.” The men around the table chuckle, and Jack gives you a slight smile and nod of approval. Champ, the man who gave your final interview and congratulated you on joining Statesman, speaks up. “Now we got a lot of old timers, myself and Whiskey included, who wrote down files on pen and paper. Is that gonna be a problem Grenadine?” You prepped yourself for this question, knowing Statesman had been active since the early 1900s.

“Not at all Champ! You see, I’ve developed a secure application accessible only on Statesman hardware that can translate handwriting to text and import it on the secure algorithm. Even if it can’t, I can review any files and manually input any missing information,” you state with sheer confidence. Champ looks at you and grins,

“Well, good luck translating Whiskey’s hand writing,” Champ quips, and the rest of the room bellows with laughter.

A few more Statesmen ask you questions. You gladly answer without missing a beat. Eventually, the meeting adjourns and the holograms sign off. You stand up from your seat and make your way to the door with Ginger. Agent Whiskey speaks,

“Miss Grenadine, would you mind hangin back for a spell. I just got some more questions.” Ginger looks at you, grabs your wrist and whispers in your ear, “Be careful with that one (y/n).” You gulp, take a deep breath and walk toward him.

“Now sugar, Champ ain’t kiddin’ when he said my writing was God awful,” Jack says with a chuckle. You slightly giggle, and sit down next to him, ignoring the knot growing in your lower abdomen.

“It’s okay Agent Whiskey I-” you say before he cuts you off.

“Sweetheart, I already said you can call me Jack,” he says, leaning closer to you. You feel heat rush to your face,

“Sorry Jack. Like I said in our briefing, I don’t mind transcribing older files manually. Just give me the files and I can take care of it at my desk.”

“Miss Grenadine, I don’t want to burden you with my chicken scratch notes. Would’t it be faster…easier if you came by my office and we reviewed them together?” Ginger’s words of caution rung in your ear, but your heart pounded at the mere idea of being alone with the most attractive Statesman. Was he flirting with you? Or was this just his demeanor? Maybe he was trying to help a newcomer make a name for themselves in this organization? After all, he is technically your boss and what kind of boss wouldn’t want his subordinate to succeed? You take a deep breath.

“That sounds like a fantastic idea Jack. I’d love to get your help and your input on previous missions would greatly benefit my knowledge of Statesman,” you say attempting to sound professional.

“Alright, alright Miss. Meet me in my office around, say, six o clock?” He lets out a deep breath, stands up, and you do as well. You extend your right arm out to shake his, and he firmly, yet gently grasps yours. His large, warm hand engulfs yours and you can’t help but feel a surge of excitement rush throughout you. Breaking away, you leave the conference room and head to the roof top to get some fresh air.

From the rooftop, you can see New York City in all its glory. This feels like a dream come true. Your first day appeared to be a success, you gained respect from the Statesman, and now your handsome boss wants to make sure you get this project up and running. You call your best friend from back home to share the news. After the initial pleasantries, you say to her,

“Oh and get this! Head of the New York office wants me to work with him personally to get to input his information into the new data base I created.”“That’s amazing (y/n)! It seems like you made a really great impression. I always knew you’d do great things. I can’t believe you're working for one of the best distilleries in the US,” she says. Smiling, and looking down at your shoes you mention,

“It also doesn’t hurt that he’s one of the hottest guys in the office.”“Really? Well don’t get a reputation on your first day,” she jokes.

“What’s he look like?” She asks.

“I think he’s from Texas? He’s got a whole cowboy thing going. He’s got brown hair, brown eyes. He’s older too. Totally got a daddy vibe,” you say, feeling that heat rise up to your face again.

“Daddy? Like he’s got kids?”

“No, I mean… well I don’t know. Look I’ll explain it to you later. Gotta go!” You end the call. Little did you know, Jack was behind one of the structures listening in on your conversation. A smile grows wide on his face.

The rest of the day is spent touring the facilities with Ginger, getting to know the equipment and familiarizing yourself with different programs. As exciting as this is, you’re looking forward to tonight more. You try to push back this growing crush to the back of your mind, and focus on absorbing all the interfaces and layouts Statesman has to offer. After all, you’re here to work. Luckily, the day goes by quick and before you know it almost everyone is leaving the office… Everyone except you and Jack.

“Hey Grenadine, wanna share a taxi back home?” Ginger asks. “Oh I’m staying a little later to work on the algorithm project,” you say. Ginger glances away from you, observing Jack’s office with the lights still on. “Ok, just remember what I said earlier and Grenadine?” “Yes Ginger?”

“Don’t work too hard, it's only your first day.”“Good thing I’m on salary,” you joke. She laughs, and bids you a good night.

After seeing the elevator close behind her, you make your way to Jack’s office and knock on the door.

“Well hello gorgeous,” he declares and motions you into his spacious office, furnished with a warm rosewood desk, luxurious rugs and two cozy looking leather seats. You tell yourself he’s just a gentleman, and respond,

“Hello Agent Whiskey, thanks for taking the time to help me with this,” you say trying to sound as professional as possible.

You take a seat across from his on the other side of his desk. He hands you a stack of old, dusty files and Champ wasn’t kidding. This handwriting was a challenge to decipher. You begin shuffling through the papers, and start scanning the documents into your Statesman tablet.

“Hey Whiskey. I got most of this mission inputted, but I’m having trouble making out the location. Could you take a look?” You pass the paper to his side of the desk, and his hand grazes yours and you instinctually jerk back a tad. He looks up at you and grins,

“Now sweet pea I don’t bite,” he says with a chuckle. “You ain’t gotta be scared of old Jack.” The heat rises to your cheeks and you look down at your now empty hands.

“I didn’t mean to come off like that Jack, I’m just nervous since its my first day and all. I guess there’s a reason you’re out in the field and I’m in the office,” you look up at him with your big, beautiful doe eyes. You can see his pupils widen, and he reaches for your hands and begins to stroke them. A surge of excitement rushes through your body as you notice his large hands engulf yours.

This is a mistake, I should go. I should have known this would happen. I should have listened to Ginger. You think to yourself. You’re drunk on Whiskey. You understand the ramifications of sleeping with your boss, but the tingling in your lower parts is too much to handle.

“I like your hands Jack,” you finally say, with your thumb stroking the back of his hand.

“(Y/n), there’s a lot of parts I like about you. Permission to speak freely?” He asks, with his strong, brown eyes piercing yours.

“Yes…Jack.” You feel your face get hot, and you let out a deep breathe.

“I ain’t been able to get you out of my mind since I met you in the conference room,” he confesses in his southern drawl.

“Jack, you’re my boss. I’ve always dreamed of working for such a rivered organization like Statesmen and I don’t want to throw this all away based on a lapse in judgement.”“It don’t have to be that way darlin’,” he says. Jack pulls your hand toward him and plants a kiss on it while looking you deep into your eyes. He moves his lips away from the back of your hand, looks up at you and says,

“Besides, don’t think I didn’t hear what you called me on the phone earlier,” he smirks. Your stomach tingles into your vulva. You let out a deep breathe, and begin to squeeze your legs together.

“Aww sweetheart, look what I’m doin’ to you,” he teases.

“I can’t,” you whine. “It’s not right,” you say with your eyes watering out of frustration.

“Honeybee, don’t get upset. Why don’t you sit on daddy’s lap so you can see what you’re doin’ to him?” Any self control you attempted to muster is completely gone. You know you should leave, in order to preserve your reputation, but you can’t. You get up and make your way to Jack, he grabs your wrist and pulls you down onto his lap. His growing member pushes through his jeans and onto your ass. He grabs the sides of your face and pulls you in for a kiss. His mustache tickles your lips as his tongue dances with yours. You begin to move your hips back and forth, desperate to feel him.

“Now that wasn’t so hard, now was it?” He teases you again. His hands make their way down your frame. You move your legs from the side of the chair and straddle his hips.

“Oh Jack you feel so good,” you let out as your skirt opens and the fabric of your panties grind against the denim outline of his cock.

“Yeah baby girl? You like feelin’ my cock rub against sweet little pussy of yours?” He asks you, taking your top off and throwing it across the room. You let out a breathy “Yes.” He starts massaging your breasts then unclasps your bra, exposing your hard nipples. Cupping your right breast with his hand, he puts his mouth to your nipple and gently moves his tongue in a swirling motion. You grab the shoulders of his blazer and slide it off his rugged body, clasping his forearms as you do so. Then, you grab the bottom of his shirt and begin pulling it off of him, knocking his cowboy hat off. You wrap your arms around him and his mouth meets yours. You can feel his warmth as you two make out. You grab his biceps and rub your hands down them as you kiss each other. You slide down from his lap and onto your knees, looking into those dark, beautiful eyes. Your eyes move down to his silver belt buckle with the engraved Statesman logo.

“Daddy… Can I?” You ask sweetly.

“Baby girl I’d be a god damn fool if I said no,” he responds. Eagerly, you begin to unclasp his belt, and pull down his jeans with his boxers attached. You are amazed watching his cock spring out, hits his belly before staring right at your face. You start to lick the base, moving your tongue up to the tip swirling your tongue around it.

“Darlin’ don’t tease me like that. Show me what a good girl you can be,” he sighs. You put one arm on his thigh, the other at his base and begin taking his length in your mouth. His size is impressive, and grows more as you inch your mouth around it. You relax your jaw, and breathe through your nose as it travels deeper and deeper down your throat. He pushes the back of your head down until your mouth reaches the base of his cock. You look up at him, eyes watering, as his pupils almost engulf his iris. The hand on the back of your head begins bobbing you back and forth as Jack fucks your mouth. You arch you back.

“Now that’s a good girl,” he remarks. He moans with each thrust as your fingers dig into his thigh.

“God damn sugar that mouth is made for me,” he says as he pulls you away from his cock. He bends down, picks you up and places you on his desk facing him. He pulls you in for another kiss and you groan with excitement. He pulls your panties and skirt down to the floor.

“Daddy’s gonna make you feel real nice honey,” he says locking eyes. He grabs both of your knee caps and pushes them away from each other, exposing your sex. He pushes his index finger in you and you whimper, he pulls it out and then pushes two fingers in, twisting around causing you to squirm.

“Oh Jack I want you so badly,” you let out.

“(Y/N) you got me,” he says beginning to pump his fingers more rapidly. His lips make his way down your heat, and begins licking you while his fingers fuck you. You let out several groans. His free hand spreads your folds and his tongue circles around your bud. The fingers that are inside you begin to curl upward and hit your special spot.

“Oh fuck Daddy, keep doing that,” you pant, looking up at him worshipping your body. Encouraged, he picks up his pace and you begin to shake while letting out breathy “yeah”s over and over. The pressure builds up and you let out a long moan, throwing your head back onto the desk. Your body is shaking and your breathing shallow. Jack towers above you and grins,

“Babygirl you taste sweeter than molasses.” He leans down and kisses your lips while positioning himself at your entrance.

“You ready to take Daddy’s cock?” You look down and adjust yourself closer to him. Your back arches, perking up your breasts. He stands back up, and strokes your thighs.

“Jack please go slow,” you tell him, hinting it’s been a while.

“The last thing I wanna do is hurt my little girl,” he says.

“(Y/N), tell me if you want me to stop. You hear me?” He asks, gazing into your eyes and brushing his hand against your cheek.

“I promise,” you respond.

“‘I promise’ what?” He asks sternly.

“I promise Daddy.” You grab his hand, and lace your fingers with his. His tip enters you and you can already feel his width stretch you. He exits you, then enters you again deeper, this time halfway. You feel your walls sweating and your hips buck forward to meet his cock. With this encouragement, he enters you half way. You let out an audible gasp, followed by a moan.

“Keep going Jack, I can take it,” you say looking up at him.

“Thatta girl,” he smiles. He thrusts deeper into you, entering you fully. He lets out a “fuck” under his breath which you follow with a moan. His rhythm is slow and steady and you can feel him stretch you. You lock eyes with him, grab his free hand and put his fingers in your mouth. You begin to suck them, he lets out a groan and begins to fuck you faster. He pulls his fingers out of your mouth and grabs your hips. You moan while putting your hands over his.

“You like that baby girl? You like being full of daddy’s cock?”

“Yes Daddy Whiskey,” you coo. He smiles, releases his hands from you and orders, “Open that pretty little mouth.” He sticks his finger down your throat, pulls it out covered in your saliva and beings vigorously rubbing your clit. Your thighs shake and you start panting heavily.

“Daddy please,” you let out and he fucks harder. He grabs your throat with his free hand and your thighs wrap around his waist. You whimper as he pounds into you, his finger pressing harder on your bud.

“Cum on daddy’s cock sweet thing,” he commands. You shake and let out a muffled moan. He pulls out of you and sits on the leather chair behind you. He pats his lap,

“Go on, show daddy what you got,” he commands. You stand up from the desk, legs shaking like a new born foal. You position yourself above him, he grabs your face and kisses you passionately. You break away and take a deep breathe.

“Save a horse, ride a statesman,” you giggle. He smiles with a chuckle,

“Baby girl you’re perfect,” he says. Your hips move down, and you begin to motion your hips back and forth, riding his cock as if your life depended on it. You feel his balls slap against the area between your sexes. You let out a few squeaks and moans, your tits bouncing in his face as he kisses them. He starts breathing heavier,

“Daddy’s gonna come,” he exhales. He starts to push you off, but you saddle back on his hips. His eyes widen, he lets out a deep groan and shoots his load into you. You can feel his seed shoot into you and you let out a gasp. You get off of him, kissing him softly.

“I’m gonna have to keep you around baby girl,” Jack says as he embraces you.

[lookingatacupoftea]

Possibly the most out-of-character moment in all of GO2 to me is that Nina doesn't know Crowley.

GIF by @purplewillowchicken. (Sidenote: I love how Nina clocks Crowley's look here. I bet she's planning to tell her staff members or friends about this tall drink of aging rocker sexy ginger goth).

If it's true that "we both get plenty of use out of" the bookshop, then I can not imagine anything more likely than Aziraphale, happily reading while Crowley prowls around or plays games on his phone, looking up, fluttering his eyelashes, and asking Crowley to pop over the road to bring him some pastries. Crowley complains while immediately complying and gets an espresso for himself.

So why does it seem like they haven't been enjoying the many pleasures of Whickber Street like the pub, the cafe, the French restaurant, and the magic shop? Are they afraid to be seen out and about together?

Yet, during the 5/6 days that this season seems to last, they will go to lots of places, talk to lots of people, bickerflirt publicly, speak openly about the Gabriel issue, and host a party. And Nina will think she knows Crowley and his relationship with Aziraphale well enough to pop over the last morning and give him some dating advice.

I don't think I can call this a ✨ Clue ✨ -- if you want more clue-y clues, check out the work of the Ineffable Detective Agency. Calling this a clue seems too fancy for a bit of character analysis. But to me this is another indication that time is wrong this season. There are multiple timelines and characters' relationships with each other differ a bit in each timeline. Or we are missing big chunks of time where these relationships develop. Or there are two Crowleys, one who knows Nina and one who doesn't.

I did consider the "they're too busy using anything even approximating a flat surface in the bookshop to hang out on WS" theory and I think that's a possibility. But I still think Aziraphale would occasionally want to nibble something other than Crowley and Crowley would need caffeine to keep up with his insatiable angel.

I also considered that maybe Nina is too new to WS. But she doesn't seem that new since she already has a fairly intimate friendship with Mrs. Sandwich, who advises her not to check her texts from Lindsay/Lindsey; is close enough to Mr. Fell to tease him about the naked man; and knows Maggie by her coffee order, if not her name.

[thenerdyolive]

For the Tintin asks!

7, 8 and 9 :)

Thanks for your asks :)

@lexintothenex asked 8 & 9, so maybe I could combine-answer you both here 😅 thanks for your asks lex :)

9. Fave tintin outfit?

For me the signature blue sweater & plus fours ALONG with the trenchcoat! I just love the trenchcoat!! I feel like it gives some serious journalist + detective vibes on him.

He has worn trenchcoat with other outfits as well but this is my most fave.

8. Hair color?

Well, ginger. I think it suits his face & brightens it up somehow. And I like to describe him as the "young ginger-headed journalist" 😄!!

7. 'Is he gonna fail..?'

Yeah, this happened in Tintin in Tibet.

By the time I reached this book, I was very much into the series & took the stories quite seriously.

A little too seriously...

At first it was like "Oh, of course he will find Tchang at the end, how can he not?" Then, as I approached the end, I suddenly started thinking about what if he just finds clues that Tchang had been thru the same path that he's following & that's it, nothing more. That'd have been quite sad, like tintin may end up losing all his optimism. That would have been tragic.

And it's not that I was being pessimist. Everyone was telling him that his friend's dead, no one can survive in a terrain like the Himalayas & it's no good risking his life. They encountered many near death moments & all i could think was what if it didn't end well after all this?

Towards the end, after tintin left the monastery for the Horn of the Yak, a thought came to me that maybe this story is not about tintin being the brave hero he has always been. Maybe it's about the people who lose their lives in plane crashes or get lost in the mountains. Maybe Hergé was trying to hint that Tibet is quite secluded from the modern world, no one can know or understand what happens there. Also, maybe It's about the Yeti (which actually turned out to be true to certain level).

I got chills here, the moment tintin was entering the cave. My thoughts were like - what if he finds him dead? what if he finds bones? What if he finds him alive but fails to rescue him??

But of course he did find him & rescued him & well it was a very happy ending. I'm glad the story ended the way it did :)

PS: answering 7th question turned into a potential review of Tintin in Tibet 😂

Reblog & join my Tintin ask game!!!

[daughter-of-melpomene]

𝐑𝐄-𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐃𝐔𝐂𝐈𝐍𝐆… 𝐌𝐘 𝐂𝐑𝐈𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐋 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐒 𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐋 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑, 𝐄𝐋𝐈 𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐀𝐍

❝ Eli had almost always been obsessed with killers. From a very young age - most would say too young to be interested in a subject so morbid - Eli had watched as many serial killer documentaries and read as many books by journalists and family members of the killers as he could get his hands on, until he knew almost everything there was to know about American serial killers. He recite all the details of John Wayne Gacy's case from memory, debate about Jack the Ripper theories for hours, and once the Aileen Wuornos movie came out, he watched it so many times he was able to repeat it almost word for word (because, he would always say, woman killers deserved recognition too).

Of course, none of this was to say that Eli was disturbed, or that he had the potential to be a killer himself. Perhaps he was disturbed, but coming from a home with an emotionally abusive mother and a father who loved him but had never actually had the guts to take his son out of their awful situation, Eli would've said he was no more disturbed than anyone else who'd come from a similar home. No, while he might have been intrigued by the stories of serial killers and the investigations into them, he was always horrified and disgusted by the killings he read about, and besides, it had always been the police investigations that had fascinated him most. He loved reading about the bold police detectives who searched tirelessly for clues to solve the murders and brought the killers to justice, and as a hurting young boy reading these books under his covers at night, he longed to one day be one of those detectives with the power to put bad guys away where they belonged.

It was no surprise to anyone who knew him, then, when Eli had started working for the FBI as an adult. Originally taking a job with the Counterterrorism Division, Eli found himself not satisfied with the position, his childhood dreams of hunting down serial killers constantly replaying in his head. So, after six years with the Bureau, Eli applies to be reassigned to the Behavioral Analysis Unit, or BAU, and finally makes his morbid youthful fantasies come true by being assigned to Aaron Hotchner's team of profilers.

Eli, who's always been skilled at making friends, is quick to establish himself as a member of the chaotic little family that is this team. But he's also quickly intrigued by Spencer Reid, a socially awkward genius with unfairly nice hair.

Eli Logan had no intentions of finding a romantic partner when he first lobbied to be assigned to the BAU... but maybe, in the midst of all this murder and chaos and boring post-case paperwork, that might just be what happens anyway. ❞

General Taglist: @hiddenqveendom, @foxesandmagic, @artemisocs, @reyofluke-ocs, @endless-oc-creations, @stanshollaand, @ginnystilinski-reblogs, @luucypevensie, @ginger-grimm, @arrthurpendragon, @fakedatings, @impales, @claryxjackson, @dancingsunflowers-ocs, @eddysocs, @lucys-chen, @ocappreciationtag.

[kojoty]

Guys true detective is insane BTW I've been transfixed at my screen watching this horror show unfold for the last hour. This whole undercover shit with ginger is making me insane