#this got a little bit away from me

[criminalmindsbauagent]

Chapters: 1/8 Fandom: Criminal Minds (US TV) Rating: Mature Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Relationships: Aaron Hotchner/Emily Prentiss Characters: Aaron Hotchner, Emily Prentiss, The BAU Team (Criminal Minds), David Rossi, Jennifer "JJ" Jareau, Derek Morgan (Criminal Minds), Penelope Garcia, Spencer Reid Additional Tags: Episode: s05e01 Nameless Faceless (Criminal Minds), mostly post episode 501, Aaron Hotchner Whump, Canon-Typical Violence, Angst Series: Part 5 of Paper Rings ✨ Summary:

I promise not to fight anymore... ... if we survive the great war.

 Set between episode 1 and 2 of season 5.

[juicywizards]

modern day saint sebastian

[tmos-time]

just remembered i can draw gay people

[introspectivememories]

sorry but do you ever think about the fact that the bernard we have today is a direct amalgamation of everything that happened in his past and i know that sound like such an obvious statement to say but it actually kills me to know that you can draw a direct line from who he is today all the way back to that sixteen year old boy who watched his best friend bleed out. like it is the defining moment in his life. it fundamentally shaped who he is and the person he's become. he is the bernard we know and love not despite the grieves shooting but because of it. because the gangs all got together and shot up his school. because tim walked out of that room with nothing but a baseball bat. because his darla got shot. because he watched her gasp and cry as she died. because he watched the blood coagulate around the wound. because he sat there and held her hand as her life drained out of her. because he walked into school that day with a joke he knew would make her laugh and her nose would scrunch up and she'd snort a little and tim would roll his eyes at him and call him ridiculous and instead he walked out with a bloody white shirt, blood under his fingernails, and two friends less. because, even now, almost half a decade out from the shooting, he thinks that if he closes his eyes, he will always be that stupid, scared little sixteen year old, holding the cooling body of dead best friend.

[magniloquent-raven]

I'm getting distracted from my current projects by someone else's post again someone tell me to stop going on tumblr while I have WIPs lmfao

@rosetterer this isn't EXACTLY what you posted about but it does get there in the end

**

Twenty-four hours has never seemed like such an insurmountably long time.

Buck's had long shifts before, the boring ones when he'd stare at the alarms on the wall, willing them to go off—he can picture Maddie's disappointed scowl if she ever found out about that, but he swears he was only hoping for something small and harmless to break up the monotony—and the busy ones. Ones that leave his ears ringing with phantom sirens by the end. Those days only ever seem long in retrospect, when he's bone-tired and trying to remember all the names he asked for.

But now every shift seems to find new and shittier ways to be gruelling. Eddie's miserable and trying to act like he isn't. There's this weird, uncomfortable tension brewing between Hen and Chim. Ravi got himself transferred to B shift—probably to get away from Gerrard, and Buck can't exactly blame him, but he sort of does anyway and their new probie is terrible, and... then there's Gerrard.

Like, Buck already knew he was a piece of work, but. Knowing and experiencing are two very different things. He could barely stand keeping his mouth shut at the medal ceremony when he met the man for five seconds, and now he has to put up with him making smug, belittling comments towards all his friends, all the time. Constantly needing to remind himself he doesn't want to get fired is actually killing him.

It doesn't help that every so often he'll remember Tommy's offhand Captain Gerrard was like having the dad I already had, with a pang as he wonders what exactly Tommy grew up with. What parts of Gerrard's condescending tyranny were familiar to him. Phillip Buckley may not have been father of the year, but maybe never being looked directly at was better than being raised neck deep in toxic waste.

Every time he remembers he gets the urge to pull out his phone and call Tommy up just to... he doesn't even know. Just to hear his voice, maybe. Know if he's doing okay.

Another reason work days seem so long now, if he's being honest. He's always counting down the hours until he can see Tommy again. Like a kid on the last day of school, watching the clock tick closer and closer to summer vacation.

So, of course, right near the end of a particularly busy shift, Gerrard gets them all lined up for a lecture about how sloppy that last save was. Everyone did something wrong, and everyone needs to hear about all the ways they could have gotten someone killed, like they don't all know how risky the job is already.

By the time he's finished telling Chim it's a miracle he managed to convince anyone to let him out on calls, Buck is clenching his jaw hard enough to make his teeth ache.

"I'm sure Captain Soft-Touch loved telling you all it was okay to be mediocre, and that you were trying your best," Gerrard sneers at them all, waving a dismissive hand at very idea of Bobby's captaincy. "But the coddling ended when he retired. Sparing your feelings is going to get people killed. Diaz!" He shouts, abrupt, turning on his heel towards Eddie. Eddie doesn't flinch, but Buck does.

"Yes, sir?" He's coolly polite, and his face is carefully blank, but his posture is tense.

"If I ever catch you checking your phone at a scene again, I'll make sure you're mopping floors for the rest of your life."

Eddie's expression hardens. It was a fender-bender and Eddie didn't even touch his phone until everyone was accounted for and packed into the ambulance. "It was a text from my son. Sir." His tone veers a little to the left of polite.

"I don't care if it was from the goddamn Pope, when you're in the field your focus stays on scene. Next time your brat needs something tell him to go cry to his mother about it."

This time when Buck flinches, everyone else in line does too. Hen bites down on a grimace. Chim hisses quietly through his teeth.

"I can't do that," Eddie says flatly. "What with her being dead and all."

The firehouse is silent for a long, horrible moment. That might've taken the wind out of any decent person's sails, Buck thinks. At the very least most people would've retreated into awkwardness and ended the lecture entirely.

Gerrard's brow pinches angrily. "Don't get smart with me, Diaz."

Buck's not sure it's possible to hate someone more than he hates their new captain right now.

"I don't care about your little sob story excuses, I care that you're sloppy and distracted. If you can't handle the job and the kid, drop one of them."

Oh, he was wrong.

He hates this man so much he's choking on it, it's clogging his throat like bile and he's running out of strength to care that he shouldn't spit it out, spew it everywhere and ruin everything just for the chance of hurting this man in the process. He feels like his skin is bursting at the seams.

Eddie's biting the inside of his cheek, rage and sorrow warring silently on his face.

And Buck breaks. Bursts. "Hey, Captain, that's—"

"Can it, Buckley," Gerrard cuts him off before he can even start. It's not angry, it's not anything, he brushes Buck off like he's an annoying fly buzzing in his ear, barely worth glancing at for the two seconds it takes to tell him he doesn't care. "You're all dismissed. Get out of my sight."

Some of them flee, scurrying to their lockers, the kitchen, anywhere but here. A couple of people throw backwards glances before they walk away. Hen and Chim exchange grim looks. Eddie disappears out the back door in an angry haze. And Buck...

Buck feels. Empty. Small. Like he cut himself open trying to relieve the pressure and now there's just nothing left. No one to patch up the wound, and no reason for any of it, he didn't make an impact, he didn't help anyone, he stood there listening to his friends get degraded, and now—now he's feeling sorry for himself?

It's stupid. He's stupid. He feels like shit because, what, because he didn't get yelled at? Because his piece of shit captain took a break from implying he's a disgusting pervert?

He thinks himself in circles about it his whole way home, the pit in his stomach getting a little deeper every time he tries to will it away.

He's wallowed himself halfway through a six-pack, staring sightlessly at his TV, by the time his front door opens.

"Evan?"

One of the knots in his chest loosens. "Yeah," he calls out, not bothering to sound less pathetic than he is. "In here."

"Hey." Tommy's stopped next to the stairs, eyeing him. His gaze is assessing, but his tone is soft. He's always so careful with Buck. "Bad day?"

Buck takes another sip of his beer. Shrugs.

"Ah, one of those."

The couch cushions dip as Tommy takes a seat next to him. He's close enough that Buck doesn't have to look at him to know he's there. There's warmth radiating off him. The woodsy scent of his aftershave. Buck presses their knees together, and exhales properly for the first time in hours.

He knows he could talk about whatever he wants and Tommy would let him. He's waiting for Buck to take the lead here. Buck could avoid the issue entirely and decide to talk about anything. The fact that he can't really tell the difference between the fancy beer Tommy insists is better than the crap Buck's drinking right now. The documentary about bees he's pretending to watch. The goddamn weather.

What comes out of his mouth is a quiet, "I feel like an idiot."

Tommy pulls the beer bottle out of Buck's loose grip, puts it down next to the couch, and then takes Buck's hand in both of his. "Why?"

Buck scrubs at his eyes. "I..." He catalogues the tiny scars on Tommy's knuckles. Two, three, little dots on his index finger. A lopsided vee on his thumb. "Something happened at work."

"Did Gerrard say something to you?" There's an edge to Tommy's question, something sharp and flinty. It makes Buck's heart do dumb little somersaults.

"No." He stops, shame burning his cheeks. "Not. Not to me. That's... He was lecturing everybody, and I..."

"Evan." Tommy grips his chin, firmly, gently, guiding Buck's face until he looks him in the eye. There's a sympathetic twist to his mouth. "Tell me."

He does. As best he can when it feels like what's didn't happen is more important, and he can barely put into words why that is. But trying helps, a little. Trying to whittle it down into an explanation forces him to look at the whole of it, and realize it's not looming over him anymore.

Maybe it's just Tommy's hands on him, soothing the hurt away.

"I dunno. Feels like I could have done something differently, maybe"

Tommy hums, tilting his head in acknowledgement. "You could've."

Buck winces.

"But it wouldn't have turned out any better."

Oh.

A flower blooms on the TV, purple and white petals reaching for the sun. Buck toys with Tommy's fingers, and shifts his leg closer, hooking their ankles together.

"It felt so shitty," he mutters.

"I know."

He would, wouldn't he. Buck gets that pang in his chest again, and he pushes the rest of the way into Tommy's space. Tommy wraps his arms around him, and drops a kiss into his curls, seemingly content to let Buck situate himself however he wants.

He kind of wishes Tommy wasn't still wearing jeans, but asking him to take his pants off might send the wrong message.

"You don't think I'm, like...a bad friend, right?" He cringes his way through the question.

"No." Tommy responds matter-of-factly and without hesitation. Then the corner of his mouth twitches. "I think you're a very good boy."

Buck's entire head feels like it's on fire. A grin starts to creep across his face. It might be the first time he's smiled all day. "Oh, yeah?"

"Mhm."

Maybe he should ask Tommy to take his jeans off after all.

[densewentz]

All I can think about is how fucked everyone treats a Shadow Dragon Rook if they choose to save Treviso over Minrathous. Because the decision is sound, you know? Horrible, and hard, but Treviso is this half-broken merchant city. No guard other than the crows, no defenses, no giant floating big brother laser in the sky and one of Thedas' largest collection of mages. And so Rook has to trust their fellow Dragons to protect their home and hope to anything that they can keep the blight from Treviso. Only it's not enough, and despite the fact that Rook is one (1) person, who's only leading because no one else would goddamn do it, who has never even SEEN a dragon before the one at D'Meta's Crossing, and who still managed to fight off one dragon right after a grueling mission and then still have the energy to run off to try and help Minrathous - everyone still seems to blame them. And not just that, but the entire team spends most of the next act with their hearts breaking for Minrathous, and for Neve especially. 'Poor Neve, her home is gone, her people are dead, her life as she knew it is changed forever, poor neve, I know you didn't have a choice Rook but Neve is hurting now'. And I LOVE Neve. I love her. But it is so fucked up that as a Shadow Dragon Rook who was forced to make a horrific choice, who ALSO lost their home, their people, the life they knew- no one ever really bothers to comfort Rook. Or even consider that Rook would be absolutely shattered by what happens to Minrathous. Or fucking furious, because Rook and the goddamn Crows managed to fight off their dragon by the skin of their damn teeth with basically nothing, so how could the Shadow Dragons and the rest of Greater Minrathous not handle theirs! What were they goddamn doing that whole time?!?

The only difference between Rook and Neve is that Rook doesn't have the luxury of fucking off in the middle of a fight for the world to go mourn what they've lost. They have no choice but to pull their shit together and keep going.

And still every time Rook goes to a companion with the broken pieces of themselves in their bloody palms its just. "Oh Rook, how could this have happened to Poor Neve"

[2hoothoots]

i doubt it's your style not to get / what you set out to acquire, the eyes are on fire you are the unforecasted storm

quick painty thing i did most of on saturday and finished up this evening. the thing about this guy is that he's always posing

[ryllen]

Look what came through the mail today! The letters & ( •̀ω•́ )σ 3 little gremlins from letterstoear.

Just wanna say i adore the flower stickers on the letters too much, they are that much worth mentioning.

[ineffabletimehusbands]

Currently thinking about the contrast between when Loki and Mobius part ways in the first season and their goodbye in the finale.

In the first season, Mobius reaches out his hand for a handshake and Loki pulls him into a hug instead. He says "Thank you, my friend."

In the finale, since Mobius doesn't have the same familiarity with him at that point, even if he wants to hug him, he has to settle for the handshake this time. He says "Thank you, Mobius."

Loki knows more about Mobius than ever in the finale, he's spent centuries living and re-living their moments together, but that's not something he could possibly express in that moment.

Loki initiates the handshake though, just like he initiated the hug. He wants that familiarity, it hurts not to have it. At the same time, if he had stopped to give a goodbye to the present Mobius it would have been too familiar. Loki needed to focus on what he thinks is the right thing to do, not on what he wants, so he has to distance himself as much as possible in that moment. It's Mobius then, that keeps trying to reach out to him, to get him to slow down.

Mobius and Loki are always running circles around each other like that. That's what makes their dynamic so compelling. No matter what role they take on at the time, they always have a way of balancing each other out.

"They say opposites attract. No."

But they do. In whatever way you want to read it, either platonically or romantically, the show has gone out of its way to show that they're drawn to each other.

It's always unclear which of them is leading and which is following, that's because they both are. There's so much symbolism in the show about infinity loops. That's them.

[jojo-schmo]

Gently kisses you like you’re my greatest treasure, my most precious partner

bonus for top right doodle:

[psymachine]

Macden angry fucking w den topping 👀

dennis shows mac how to really dominate the table

uncensored version

[strangersatellites]

AU where eddie and steve are going to have dinner with steve’s ex-girlfriend/longest best friend and her girlfriend/ steve’s bestest best friend and eddie is woefully under prepared.

the ex, nancy, works for some government agency, like the CIA or some shit and her digital footprint is nonexistent. eddie knows. he’s looked. there’s not a photo of her to be had anywhere.

even robin’s socials only have pictures that she’s barely in. a blurry picture of her hand holding a glass. her holding a menu in front of her face from across the table. shit like that. robin called it a soft launch.

well, actually she called it a “not really soft launch because everyone already knows about her so i’m not really launching the fact that i have a girlfriend so much as i am the fact that she’s her and because she’s her she can’t be photographed a lot at least not anywhere that’s going to be shared publicly but the principle is still the same as a soft launch where you would slowly post pictures with details implying that you were dating someone but you guys already know i’m dating her so it’s not quite that but that’s the idea. you know?”

eddie is impressed by her lung capacity.

eddie’s a bit of a hipster in his approach to social media as well, only posting grainy black and white photos of guitars or coffees or occasionally steve.

so he gets it. kind of.

so you can imagine eddie’s surprise as they’re walking up the sidewalk to the restaurant and he sees the female version of himself.

it’s cold out so they’re both wearing long black coats and boots. she’s got curly brown hair and is wearing a lot of jewelry. rings specifically, on the hand that’s holding a cigarette up to her mouth.

eddie does a double take when he sees it’s the same one he’s holding his own cigarette with.

steve calls down the sidewalk, “robbie! nance!”

and even the scowl that she wears for a split second before she realizes who’s yelling looks just like eddie’s own resting angry face, as steve calls it.

the only real difference is that she’s tiny.

where eddie’s pushing six feet she looks barely five and a half.

he’s brought a little comfort that by the fact nancy looks as shocked as he does. spending about ten seconds just staring at each other before he barks out a laugh.

he holds up a hand in front of himself and sees the recognition flit across nancy’s face as she catches on. raises her own and moves it in unison with eddie’s. turns her head to the side when he does and barely conceals her laugh.

“so i guess you’re eddie then?” and even her voice is strong and teasing in a way eddie’s knows steve likes because he’s told eddie he likes his.

he reaches out an arm to wrap her up in a hug.

“in the flesh and blood. the mysterious nancy wheeler, it’s a pleasure.”

he turns and looks at steve and robin where the former is flushed red in the face and has a hand covering his smile while robin is physically bent at the knees covering her laughter.

“stevie you never told me your ex could be my doppelgänger.”

au august day 11: doppelgänger

[sqtorux]

guys im having a moment reading all the backstory about gojo i think ... im way too attached to him omfg this is so bad *sits in judgmental silence*

[xejune]

doodle idea: Bruce cookin up something good?

he's cooking a mystery camping soup (no one but him knows exactly whats in it but it's tasty!)

[basilpaste]

NOW FOR A LEGIT THING FOR YOU!!!! of stitches in sequence isabeau and his scar.... do you think siffrin touches it sometimes? guilty? even if isabeau explains that its a living reminder he's not in the loops?

yes. oh absolutely yeah.

(He says he likes the scar.)

(It doesn't make you feel any better.)

(... You don't know healing craft, but you understand how it works. He didn't let the scar heal. It could have healed into something barely noticeable, not at all like your eye. But he didn't want it to.)

(You could have caught his neck with that attack.)

(You weren't thinking, but that's not an excuse! You could have —)

(You don't want to think about it.)

"Sif?"

(He's smiling at you, cocking his head. You don't deserve it.)

(When you close your eye, you can almost see that visceral shade. You can almost see him crying and crying and crying. How he just cried harder when you hurt him. Because you hurt him you blinding idiot!!!)

(You raise a hand up to his face and wait a second. You're still bad at touch. He's... worse than he was before. Everything.)

(He nods.)

(The scar is softer than you expect. Maybe that's just because you're also, kind of, touching his lips.)

(You!!! Flush a little despite yourself.)

(He says he likes it.)

[joyfuladorable]

Turtle Titan in Terrible Trouble