#fuck it do the brain dump anyway

[quidcumque]

When I say I hyperfocused the fuck out of task management systems today I hyperfocused the

FUCK

out of task management systems today

[myighlou]

haha maybe one of the primary reasons that harry finally goes to therapy after the game (41st being a busy station, and harry not remembering a single thing, and kim transferring might not help too much with leaving everyone with a ton of free time) is how he realizes how much hes started idolizing kim. his own innocence right in front of him. staring up at him like he did a broken stained glass windown not so long ago. maybe his final push to prioritize getting therapy, not letting this all too familiar feeling take him over again. he might not remember exactly but hes seen what it resulted in first hand, hes experienced it. 

third times the charm, this time it might completely tear both of them down, untill there is nothing left. there is remnants of the previous two times within him and jean and in a bit of everyone around them. harrys bearly starting to connect the dots of his previous life but he knows for certain it would be the last time if he spirals into this obsession again.

(i like to think that a bit after jean and harry met and became partners at 41st, they dated for like a month max. harry was still reacently recovering from the breakup with dora and jean was there as a sort of savior from that. right person wrong time sort of thing ig? then broke up after realizing how fucking bad it was for both of them. maybe they still might be a bit bitter it didnt work out and maybe they still want it to but in the end it was better (not by much) for eveyone like this)

the ending where kim joins 41st (ive only played that one so far and havent watched any of the others yet, but man its been living in my head rent free) is such a catalyst for change within 41st. one of the top detectives from an other station is already going to be such a big help to lessen the stress and workload for the others already there. kims arrival, and harry seeking therapy (hopefully jean too that bitch needs it a shit ton too), it gives the whole station time to breath, to truly catch a break. with a slightly lessened work load on each of the members, they have time to focus on things other then work, to not have to drink themselves into amnesia on the job (*cough cough* harry- but imo jean and the others just as much, theyre more responsible on the job but its hard as fuck on them too, especially with harry pre game) 

within time, lots of time, they can all grow close again, harry can get to know each of them over again and things can not just go back to the way they were but better 

thats what i wanna think anyway, pls just let then be happy oml

anyway thats all i wrote this at 2 am pls dont mind if its fucked lmaoo

[residentrookie]

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[buppypuppy]

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[todayisafridaynight]

Nakaya's around Ichiban's height here on account of the shoes so this is how tall Jo actually should be next to Ichi 😭😭shortest and angriest member of the family GODDD that would've been so funny

I WOULDVE CRIIIED PLEAAAASSEE never forget what they took from us.....

[skitskatdacat63]

I think I mentioned it here before but I wrote some paper for a class where I used F1 interviews(like the post-race press pen) as examples, right? My prof asked if she could use it as a sample work for future classes omg!!! But mostly I'm cackling evilly over the fact that F1 is forever memorialized in that paper, I hope someone in the future reads it and is like "...wait a minute" 😭

[machinedramon]

legit wondering if when I start going to the doc for all my physical shit I should ask abt who I should see abt maybe getting mood stabilizers

i'm sick of this unending cycle of getting eight million ideas and scrambling from one to the next before burning myself out on all of them and falling into a depression and hating myself for not doing any of the eight million things I was excited about

[angorwhosebabyisthis]

been under the weather for the past few days and drums my hands on the table for the Neat Things Currently Lined Up to Reblog When Get to Feeling Better

[ineffablehunter]

when you’ve had an awful morning and you walk into school and someone claims to have “tea” but it’s actually insane tale that needed at least 3 trigger warnings: um thanks i guess

[buck-yyyy]

man

[theyreinsensibleshoes]

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[seventh-district]

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[em-prentiss]

Ice cold

————

In which you have freezing hands, and Aaron warms them up for you.

Cw: fem!bau!reader—I think it could also be read as gn reader, getting together, fluff, first kiss, no use of yn

Word count: 1.7k

This is my first time writing a reader insert, so please be gentle with me lol. I’ve been wanting to write an Aaron x reader for ages and this idea finally came to me last night. Idk if I’ll continue writing these, but if you have any prompts let me know! It took me ridiculously long to come up with this one haha <3

————

The cold bites at your exposed hands and you shiver, dropping your pen and notepad into your coat pockets because they’re all but useless now, your fingers close to snapping in half. You leave Aaron to jot down notes of the crime scene you’re in, keeping your hands in your equally freezing pockets in a poor attempt at keeping them warm.

Who has the energy to dump and mutilate a body in the woods in the middle of January, anyway?

“Isolated and hard to find, safe to say he’s a local.” You murmur, tucking your chin into the collar of your coat. You curl your numb fingers into your palm, cursing quietly at the stiffness in them.

“Yeah,” Aaron agrees. “One with experience, too. No blood spatter, no drag marks. He could’ve wrapped them in tarps.” He clicks his pen closed and slides it into his pocket along with his notepad, making you sigh in relief at the thought of leaving soon. “We’ll know more once Morgan and Rossi come back from the ME.”

You nod silently, clenching your fingers around the cold fibers of your coat pocket as you shiver again. Aaron’s gaze slides to you. 

“You okay?” He asks.

“It’s fucking freezing,” you grumble, hunching your shoulders and trying to wrap your coat tighter around your body. Your hands have gone fully numb now, clenched into icy fists inside your pockets. “My hands froze over. They’re like ice blocks.” You frown, your jutted bottom lip scratching against the wool of your coat.

Aaron smiles amusedly, his heart warming at the sight of your furrowed brows, your chin tucked into your coat for warmth. You shift slightly from foot to foot, subconsciously huddling closer to him and his endless, blazing warmth. 

He turns his back on the deserted crime scene and focuses instead on you, his eyes lingering on the flush on your cheeks, your skin bitten from the cold. He looks perfectly warm, you think grouchily, in his stupid large coat and his stupid neatly wrapped scarf.

“And yet when we went to literal Alaska you didn’t have any complaints,” he says. 

You huff indignantly, “Excuse you, at least in Alaska I knew it was going to be—” You cut off as his fingers wrap around your wrists and gently pull your hands from your pockets.

Immediately the cold bites at them again, but that’s not what makes you falter. “What are you doing?” You ask as he cups both of your hands between his. Distantly, you think it’s a stupid question. But his hands are so warm, large and completely engulfing yours, making you feel like you just stuck them in an oven. You let out an involuntary sigh, your brain going blank at the sudden heat from his hands.

Aaron ignores your question. “You weren’t lying,” he says mildly, bending his head to look at the way your nails were turning blue. He brings your hands up to his face and blows warm air on the blue tips of your fingers, massaging them with circular motions to force the cold out of them. Your heart picks up at the way your hands disappear beneath his, what’s visible of them looking small in his gentle grip.

Your skin is icy beneath his own. “Jeez, are you anemic or something?” He looks up at you and his lips tilt upward at the flush on your cheeks, deeper now than it was before, and you both know it’s not from the cold.

“No,” you squeak, the excessive heat of his hands rendering you incoherent. His thumbs rub gentle circles onto your palms, slowly forcing the warmth back into them. “Just terrible circulation.”

Aaron hums and looks back down at your hands, massaging them thoroughly until you start to regain the feeling in your fingers. You waggle them experimentally and he smiles a little, moving his thumbs up to your knuckles and rubbing them slowly.

You can feel your blush deepen as you look at him. His gaze is fixed on your hands, utterly focused on his task as if it were the single most important thing on his mind today, as if you didn’t have any pressing concerns like a team waiting for your feedback or a serial killer needing to be caught.

By the time he’s moved to your wrists your whole body is warm, your blood buzzing under your skin. He’s involuntarily shifted closer to you, your hands held so close to his chest your fingertips ghost against his shirt. 

His warm fingers brush over your wrist, catching your fluttering pulse, and your breath is trapped in your throat. Aaron presses your palms together and secures his hands over yours, finally done with his task. The warmth of your joint hands travels to your cheeks, the way his thumbs absently skate over the heel of your hands making your whole body flush. “Warm enough now?” He murmurs.

Just about to catch fire, actually. But you nod. “You’re a useful partner in conditions like these, Agent Hotchner. What with your furnace-like hands.” You try to joke through your racing heartbeat.

He chuckles lightly, his dimples digging into his cheeks. His hands are still holding on to yours. You’re glad for that, because otherwise you’re sure you would’ve risen on your tiptoes and pressed a thumb to each dimple, watching the way your fingers dip into the crevice. 

“Happy to be of service. Anything else I can warm up for you?” His eyes are like sun warmed honey, gazing into yours, and the words leave your mouth before you can think about them.

“My lips are cold too.”

Oh god.

You drop your gaze as your cheeks start to flame, a jittery nervousness suddenly making your stomach hurt. You try to tug your hands out of his grip but Aaron holds on tighter, his fingers wrapping around your wrists and holding you in place. 

You’re still looking down at your joint hands when he clears his throat. “I can help with that,” he says evenly, as if his own heart isn’t racing abnormally fast.

Your head snaps up. “What?” You breathe, frozen in place as he lets go of your hands. You don’t even register the sudden cold, your whole focus on the way he takes your face into his palms, his warm fingers pressing against your cold cheeks.

“Do you want me to kiss you?” Aaron asks. His face is serious, all hints of his previously playful smile gone. Briefly you start to wonder if this is one of your many dreams about him, but his hands sear your skin, the icy air burns your lungs as you raggedly breathe in and out. 

You swallow, your throat unbearably dry, and nod. “Yes.” You grip the lapels of his coat, feeling the soft fibers between your fingers.

His face transforms. The hard lines soften, his seriousness melting away as he smiles again. The breath returns to your lungs. “Thank god,” he says bluntly, and you laugh, butterflies in your stomach, in your veins. You grin at him as his thumbs stroke your jaw, his fingertips sliding into your hair as he tilts your face up to his.  

“Your efforts at flirting are tragic, by the way,” he murmurs, just before he presses his lips to yours and steals your indignant reply. Immediately you melt into his arms, one hand slipping into his coat and the other resting on the hard line of his jaw. You always wanted to touch it, and as your fingers skate over it, wander over the skin that meets his neck, you feel his erratic pulse beating.

It’s good to know you’re not the only one ridiculously affected.

Aaron reluctantly pulls away when you both are breathless, his lips turning up into a grin at the sight of your dazed eyes. He leans in close and presses soft, gentle kisses on your lips—just to make sure they’re properly warmed up. 

You slip your hand into his hair and sigh—the cold has nothing on you now—just about to kiss him properly when his phone rings.

Aaron steps back and the biting cold replaces his warmth. You shiver as he digs his hand into his pocket and takes out his phone, your lips abnormally warm and your hands slowly returning to their once freezing state. 

“Yeah Dave,” he answers, his eyes still on you. You jut your bottom lip and he grins, his hand reaching for yours. He links your fingers together and softly runs his thumb over yours, making your cheeks flush again. “Sorry, we ran into traffic on the way. We’ll be there in an hour or so.”

Aaron ends the call and you laugh as he tugs you to the car, your fingers still linked. “What?” He smiles and you beam back.

“Traffic?” You raise your brows. 

He rolls his eyes. “What did you want me to say? ‘Sorry I got carried away kissing my beautiful subordinate’?” You reach the car and he opens the door for you, but you don’t get in. 

Your heart skips at his words. He smiles and you finally reach up and place your thumb into his dimple, your own smile spreading. “Yes,” you say simply, unable to believe you can finally do this. “You know they have a running bet on us.” You murmur, leaning forward to kiss the divot in his cheek.

Aaron’s skin warms beneath your lips. His hand falls to the curve of your waist and he squeezes lightly. “I know,” his voice comes out a little tight and you smile. He clears his throat and gently pushes you into the car. “The faster you get in, the faster we can collect. And we’ll use that money for our date, yeah?” 

“Deal.” You grin and get into the car, Aaron’s gentle hand guiding you into the seat. He can’t help but give you another kiss before he closes the door, your lips sweet and soft between his own.

You sigh as he climbs into the driver’s seat, your cheeks delightfully warm and your hands only slightly chilly. Aaron pulls out onto the road and his hand finds yours again. 

You thread your fingers between his and look out the window, feeling absurdly grateful for the cold woods you were in.

[todayisafridaynight]

and i think about daigo saying he'd give kiryu the tojo clan if it weren't for his pride and him wanting to make an example for his men like kiryu did for him

[ellemj]

Does It Hurt? : Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Sex-Pollen Fic Mini Masterlist

Summary: Bucky never would've gone out of his way to help you if he knew that HYDRA was still watching his every move, if he knew that it would shift their focus to you. When you're targeted and taken, it's his fault and he'll do anything to save you. Anything.

ANNOUNCEMENT: I'll be sharing the first 24.3k words of this fic with you all tomorrow. The links will populate here once it's been posted as scheduled. I've been working on this for a while and have a love-hate relationship with it, so please give me some feedback (good or bad) when you read it. I'd love to hear some of your predictions about what might happen with these characters in the bonus part at the end of the week. Anyway, thanks for being patient with me and following along with the short snippets that have already been posted. I hope a few of you enjoy the unhinged shit my brain dumps out. Special thanks to @littlemiss-yeehaw for reading this story multiple times, constantly reassuring me that it wasn't horse shit, and for designing the image that will be used to symbolize skipping time.

Warnings: angst, sex pollen, unprotected sex, fingering, restraints, abduction, violence (b/c Bucky is protective as fuck), profanity, voyeurism/exhibitionism (if you look hard enough), no use of y/n, only pet name use is random mentions of princess (facetiously)/baby/sweetheart, mention of SA of unknown characters from an old HYDRA experiment, MINORS DNI, 18+!!!.

Does It Hurt? (One-shot, can be read alone.)

Bonus Part (Bonus chapter, continues and resolves the story.)

TAG LIST (if you would like to be added or removed from the tag list please let me know):

@sunnyhummingbee @gyokujyn @jenniferpendragon @siciliano13 @ordelixx @crist1216 @twlkdead @claireelizabeth85 @charmedbysarge @blackhawkfanatic @kentokaze @eecummingsandgoings @nyashonality @h2oaffirmations @sadeyes61 @aka-tua-braindump @immortalfangirl @valenftcrush @andrometda @sillysillygoose444 @gracescor3 @hellsenthero @mistressmkay @shortnloud

[blujayonthewing]

this is so fucking depressing lmao