tommymcartney

[tommymcartney]

i actually get a bit annoyed with people who get a bit annoyed when people say “sorry” in response to their bad news. “why are you apologizing you didn’t do anything :/” like okay well a) you don’t know that and actually yes i am the secret architect of all your woes and have been this whole time, way to refuse to acknowledge a woman (gender neutral)’s accomplishments. and b) we’re both fluent english speakers so you know perfectly well that “sorry” isn’t always an apology and is very commonly used as an expression of general regret or sympathy. not in this case, because i have been your secret nemesis for years, meticulously plotting your every misery, but, like, in general

[tommymcartney]

when the ao3 filtering gets so detailed i turn into her

[tommymcartney]

this might sound stupid but I can’t help but believe that the new wave of “birth control is actually horrible for your body, you need to get off it immediately” misinformation from influencers and the ‘natural cycle tracking’ apps suddenly being advertised is a sneaky underhanded way of causing more unplanned pregnancies that people now cannot abort. now is possibly the worst time ever to turn towards ‘natural family planning’

[tommymcartney]

pensando muito na polly shelby hoje saudades polly te amo tanto

[tommymcartney]

I wanna see what would transpire if Emily called Pen that to her face.

[tommymcartney]

[tommymcartney]

tinha honestamente esquecido o quão chato é escrever academicamente kkkkkk aiiii que sacooooo

[tommymcartney]

a feel like the new generation of fanfic readers NEED to understand that clicking on a fic (interaction) does nothing. ao3 has no algorithm. your private discord discussions of fic do not reach the authors. if you do not actively engage with writers they will stop posting. this isn’t social media this is community.

[tommymcartney]

have to go to the grocery store AGAIN!!!! #mad #angry #neverendingcycle #sisyphus #outofrice

[tommymcartney]

daily affirmations:

i am kind

i am in control of my emotions

it does not bother me when someone is in the kitchen while i was planning to be in there alone

everyone in the house has the right to be in the kitchen

i am kind and in control of my emotions even when someone is in the kitchen while i was planning to be in there alone

[tommymcartney]

now feels like a good time to reiterate that Iranians have been martyred by america + israel already, both empires that possess nuclear weapons, and that Iran does not have nuclear weapons. so now is not the time to joke about america getting nuked-- any retaliation on Iran's part is justified and the only way we escape this situation, but Iran is not going to nuke us, because the entire premise that Iran has nukes is how america justified bombing them and also the exact same rhetoric we used against Iraq and how we killed my countrysmen when there was again no evidence of nuclear warfare. New York City is not going to get fucking nuked. go listen to a podcast or something

[tommymcartney]

in 3x09 True Night, the unsub’s fiancé gets killed, and he calls her phone over and over to listen to the voicemail greeting.

jj says, “i can’t imagine having nothing left of someone but a voice message. i think i would never stop listening to it.”

it reminds me of the letters, the love notes will left her every morning. she stands at his funeral, holding all she has left of him. his words.

[tommymcartney]

The only adhd tips that work:

1. Never tell anyone what you're planning to do until you do it (you will get a premature dopamine hit and sense of accomplishment from telling them and lose motivation to actually do it)

2. Never sit down (never sit down)

[tommymcartney]

The BAU as lyrics from each Taylor Swift album: TTPD

Penelope Garcia- ‘ I Hate It Here’

Masterlist ✰

[tommymcartney]

THE NEW GIRL

summary: You take your responsibilities as Agent Hotchner's new assistant very seriously. Of course, this has nothing to do with how you feel about him (or the any of late-night baking you've been up to).

warnings: FLUFF! fem!assistant!reader, mutual pining, hotch skipping meals/being consumed by shame/etc. the works!

word count: 1,236

If someone were to ask you about your first week working as SSA Aaron Hotchner’s new assistant at the BAU, you would tell them the truth. Working with Agent Hotchner is a pleasure. I think he might be the most efficient man I’ve ever met. Clearly a workaholic, but nice enough to assume I, at least, have a social life. A professional through and through.

Now, if you were to write about it in your journal, you'd word it a bit different. Deeply intimidated by him. Pretty sure he hasn't had anything besides black coffee and a granola bar the entire time he's been in the office this week. Hasn’t smiled once since I’ve met him. He is the hottest man I’ve ever met, though.

So much for professionalism.

You can get over it, you tell yourself. Someday, he'll slip up; one obnoxious, old-man sneeze and you'll never be able to look at him the same way again. You've lost feelings for less before. That's why you've spent half your morning staring at him through his office blinds. Just waiting for that inevitable moment when he transforms from People's Sexiest Man Alive into a normal human being.

Before you can even begin to address your staring problem, Derek Morgan's dazzling, megawatt smile is in your way. The expression on his face tells you he knows exactly what position you were picturing your boss in (on his knees—proposing). He coughs, as if to show you he's proud he managed to catch you in the act.

"You're very focused this morning, aren't ya, sugar?" Yeah. On anything but the work you're getting paid to do.

"I'm sure I have no idea what you're talking about, Morgan." Your first strategy is always denial. It never works. Derek continues this morning's cross-examination while he leans over your desk with his arms crossed.

"Oh, I'm sure you do," he smirks as he looks back up towards Hotch's office. You can tell he's telepathically trying to get him to look down here, but, of course, all of his focus is on his paperwork, as it should be.

"You know, it wouldn't be a bad idea if you went up to talk to him," he turns back to you. At this point, you're pretty sure your heart rate could warrant a trip to the emergency room. "He needs to learn how to take a break once in a while." Derek walks back over to his desk, unaware that he's tilted your world several degrees off its axis in a split second.

Aaron Hotchner is not a fool. He knows this situation is inappropriate. Harboring a crush on his subordinate is more than unprofessional, and yet, he can't pretend that it isn't happening. Not when he's been trying his absolute hardest to forget the color of your cardigan and the exact number of buttons on it for the last hour. Unfortunately for him, his vivid memory keeps torturing him with the image of you dressed in a butter yellow shade, two buttons undone.

Despite all that, Agent Hotchner is committed to maintaining the foundation of trust and integrity that this team depends upon in order to do their work. So that means no stolen glances to see if you've already finished your second cup of coffee today, no matter how much he wants to see your face.

He's still spaced out when he hears the soft knock on his office door. He knows it's you. The rest of the team knocks with a certain confidence that you haven't quite managed to achieve yet. His nostrils pick up on the mix of amber and vanilla you bring into the room with you as you walk in, a smell that has now become a surefire way to get his heart rate rising.

"Hey, Hotch. Came in to drop off these files for you. Hope I'm not interrupting." He knows he's not supposed to profile his own employees but he swears he can sense a nervousness in your voice.

"Not at all. I was just finishing up a report. You're welcome to sit if you'd like." His offer sends a small shiver up your spine. How does he always seem to know what I'm about to say?

"Actually... I was hoping you might want to split my lunch with me. I brought this chicken salad from home but it's way too much for one person. Plus, I know you haven't had lunch yet, so I figured it might be good to take a break for a bit." Hotch stares at you for a second, surprise shining bright in his eyes. It's good to know he doesn't know everything.

"That's very nice of you. Thank you." He clears part of his desk and places said salad in the middle, as you draw your chair closer and bring two silver forks out of your lunch bag. Environmentally-friendly, yes, but also... premeditated? He realizes then that you put too much salad in the container on purpose. For him? He feels a strange sharpness in his chest, something more than just a pang of gratitude. He chooses to ignore it, reasoning with himself that the other half of that salad was probably meant for Garcia, who you're quite fond of.

"You know you're allowed to go out for lunch, right? I'm mandated to give you a two-hour midday break. It's in your contract." You let out a giggle. It seems very fitting for Hotch to remind you of your workers' rights when you try to do a nice thing for him. You like how much he cares. And how he shows it, too.

"Can I ask you something?" He raises his eyebrows mid-bite and nods. "No offense, or anything, but have you ever taken a two-hour lunch break for yourself? And holding a meeting at a nice restaurant doesn't count, y'know." He drops his eyes and lets out a deep sigh.

"I'm not... a good role model." You watch as he looks down onto the desk with an air of defeat. It's in that moment that you realize the way you see him is not at all the way he sees himself. For some strange reason, it makes you feel like someone's just dropped an anvil on your chest.

"I don't know, Hotch. You seem like a pretty great one to me." You lower your head closer to the desk to reach his eyeline and smile up at him. All you want is to show him how great you think he is. You hope the profiler in him can tell from the look in your eyes. "Now, have a cookie."

He chuckles in disbelief—a real, visible smile gracing his face, as you hand him a chocolate chip cookie. It feels like winning the lotto. He takes a big bite, before turning back to you.

"Did you make this yourself? It's great." God, he's good at his job.

"Yeah. I tend to bake a lot when I'm stressed. A welcome distraction, let's say." You leave out the part about the three different batches of cookies you made past midnight earlier this week. Obviously, they have nothing to do with the way you feel about your new job (or your new boss).

If the comfortable silence the two of you have settled into is any indication, you'll be fine. Still doesn't explain the butterflies in your stomach but you'll deal with that later.

author's note: hello beautiful people of tumblr!!!! long-time listener, first-time caller.. i've been lurking on cm tumblr for a while i've now (long enough to develop parasocial friendships with some of the lovely souls on here) but i finally decided to put my overactive imagination and half-dead laptop to good use. this was the first idea that popped into my head so i ran with it (there's more on the way!!). FYI i am open to requests! and ideas! and love! and friendship! and joy! ⋆˚꩜｡ anyways. hit me up! (˶ ˘ ³˘)ˆᵕ ˆ˶) —ms. hotchdog

[tommymcartney]

Penelope: *texting* Hey can you pick me up I’m drunk. 

Penelope: Oh you don't have to anymore. I'm home now. 

Derek: Yes, I'm aware of that after dropping you off at home.

[tommymcartney]

trying to be normal while watching one of my favorite episodes of criminal minds with my mom but jj and emily look like this and i’m a lesbian