@egopath - Tumblr Blog

Oh we’re performing behaviours are we? We’re acting in ways??

if we get a season 3 of mindhunter i will come to david fincher's house and kiss him on the lips

i know i haven’t been here in months but @ribslit got me an autographed copy of journey into darkness and i just has to brag. ilu

#ooc #i miss roleplay sometimes #but i’ve been getting into other hobbies which has been nice #I’m still on discord if anyone wants to chat!

bauretiredaa

SCARS REMIND US WHERE WE HAVE BEEN , they don’t have to dictate where we are going .

ind . sel . david rossi from cbs’ criminal minds / written by tinez .

#PROMO.#i know i’m barely here but check out my lover boy

anguishmacgyver

“You’re developing a pattern of behavior that will not sustain you.”

#HOLDEN FORD.

rominatrix

Holden + sunglasses (requested by anonymous)

#MINDHUNTER.#HOLDEN FORD.

𝐃𝐄𝐕𝐈𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐇 | 𝐌𝐈𝐓𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐃, 𝐃𝐄𝐁𝐁𝐈𝐄.

“ wow, ok. ” she grins: shit-all, wide, greedily smug. it’s obviously not the answer she’d anticipated ( nor the reaction she thinks he’d assume ), though she does suppose her spontaneity does keep their relationship ––– and, in turn, holden’s reactions ––– rather entertaining. debbie slaps the top of the drawer, and hopes the hollow sound offers enough intrigue for an actual look rather than another volley. “ if getting into the fbi with no amount of investigation is that easy, i might as well start filling in an application, then… you’d vouch for me, right ? ”

𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐈𝐒𝐓 collides with the empty drawer, what debbie is saying finally clicks. he crosses the small space between them so he can open the empty drawer as though to assess it. but he doesn’t observe it for long before he closes it. ❝ i like your odds, ❞ he tells her as his fingers clutch the fabric at her hips as he presses her to the dresser. the empty drawer feels bigger than even the first time holden called her his girlfriend. with his palms pressed to her hips, holden lifts her so she’s sitting atop the dresser.

#deviantpath #verse: season one

𝐈𝐍𝐐𝐔𝐒𝐓𝐕𝐄 | 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐊, 𝐒𝐀𝐌𝐔𝐄𝐋.

𝐪𝐮𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐨 , of course , memory of badge resurfacing , that shine of elite privilege in his eyes . he looks down again , remorse now festering into guilt at knowledge of origins and how route from there to here constitutes long way . and for that , he realizes , distance never blocks the means ; matters of this extent are usually —- always —- serious . never should there be a sign of doubt .

and for that , he softens , gentle lips thinning only for a moment in thought when he looks back up , contemplating exceptions . ❝ how old was she ? ❞ not like it matters , he nearly adds , when he notices growing elephant of hostility , pressing tension of thick irritation . he sits in his own chair , scavenges for cigarettes among messy desk , figures he should relieve the air between them . thus , one for him , pack casually directly towards him in the likes of peace treaty.

𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐈𝐒 𝐀 𝐌𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓 in which holden witnesses him open up and his expression soften. he cannot place what was said but the tense air seems to dispel like a deep sigh. holden is grateful for it --- and in hindsight --- knows it was as much his fault as the reporter’s. holden, who barged in with demands and a patience thinning minute by minute. his attitude had been no better than the men at the station who had scoffed at his profile of the killer. ❝ — eleven, ❞ he tells him as he looks down at his hands. he fits his thumb into the palm of his other hand, pressing it there to keep his hands still. but when he raises the cigarette pack in his direction, holden waves it off with a shake of his head. ❝ — she had been taken walking home from the grocery store. and tossed out like trash, ❞ he continues, ❝ — i want the killer to know who she was. that she was a person. with these kind of guys, when they’re confronted with the reality of what they did, they make mistakes and that’s when they get caught. ❞

#inqustve #verse: post - season two

𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐊𝐀𝐑 | 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐊𝐄𝐑, 𝐂𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐄.

“ i had already moved out before she was born , but i’d visit from time to time . she was still a little girl . my mother .. well — ” my mother hates me . she takes a small breath , working on the next words . “ my mother was poisoning her . MUNCHAUSEN BY PROXY . ” it felt odd to say aloud — too technical . who am i to analyze my mother with such cold terminology ? my mother poisoned me . she poisoned amma more . AND SHE KILLED MY MARIAN . sweet baby girl in her casket , pink dress hanging loose off tiny bones . her last words to me as a child : I’M TIRED OF DYING . i was the one that found her dead in her bedroom , lips blue and skin cold pale . another long sigh from camille . faintly she scratches at the scarred ‘‘hurt’ on her wrist . “ she killed my sister marian . i was thirteen . ” thirteen and set down the path of destruction . thirteen and needing a mother who had better things to do than care for you . “ i don’t think amma ever had a chance . to be a normal girl , i mean . my mother couldn’t help herself . ”

𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐈𝐒 𝐅𝐈𝐗𝐄𝐃 𝐎𝐍 𝐂𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐄. no matter how many times he has gone over the facts of the case --- immersed himself in the history of the family and town, studied the disorder which consumed their lives and fostered the environment which brought up a killer --- holden can’t mask his reaction to her words. holden has sat across from killers with hatred for their parents --- men who blamed every inadequacy in their lives on not enough love from their father or too much from their mother. he’s heard stories of abuse, of pain, of hate --- but this somehow sends a shiver up his spine more than any of the others. ❝ — what was the relationship like between amma and your mother ? ❞ he asks, tone seemingly cold and indifferent, despite the way he leans forward on his elbows in interest, ❝ — i mean, how did she react to the poisoning ? ❞ when he spoke to her, holden could not gauge how she felt as she seems to change the topic anytime her mother was brought up. the topic of her mother seemed to make amma shift from a cold blooded killer back into a damaged and scared little girl.

#praekar #verse: modern