shift station

You’re an Asshole (Kit Walker x Reader)

Request: I don’t remember exactly what the request was and I cant find the ask but I do know it was about Kit and the Reader fighting and making up.

Ship: Kit Walker x Reader

Word count: 1139

You hummed along with the radio as you wiped down the kitchen table. The stew you were cooking simmered on the stove making the whole house smell and feel warm and inviting. You moved your hips to the beat and tossed the rag over your shoulder admiring your work. You were so excited to see Kit’s reaction. He had been taking extra shifts at the station most likely dealing with assholes every hour. You wanted to do something special for him so you slaved all day cleaning the house, doing the laundry, and finally topping it all off with a nice dinner.

You heard the front door open and slam closed. You turned and smiled when you saw Kit enter. But your smile quickly faded away when you saw the scowl on his face. He let out an exasperated sigh and didn’t even look at you.

It took you a minute before you had the courage to approach him. You walked across the living room to where he stood. You placed a hand gently on his shoulder which he shrugged off harshly.

“How was your day?” you asked nervously.

He didn’t say anything he just angrily shrugged off his navy blue work shirt and threw it haphazardly on the sofa. He stomped right past you and you stared at him silent.

“I am so sick and tired of all these assholes who think the fucking world revolves around them! The next asshole who throws money on the ground instead of handing it to me, I’m cutting their fucking brakes!” he yelled running his fingers through his chocolate brown hair.

You stood shocked. You had never seen Kit this angry before. Yeah he had come home swearing and complaining but he was never this hostile. You cautiously stepped towards him, wringing your hands nervously. He continued pacing around the house, grumbling to himself with the occasional curse here and there.

“Kit, why don’t you sit and calm down for a minute?” you suggested while pulling out one of the chairs from the table.

You weren’t expecting what he was going to do next.

“Get off my fucking back woman! I have to go out and work and deal with all these fucking pricks while you just sit around all day! Just give me a goddamn moment of peace! God! I already put up with your ass enough” he yelled.

You were taken aback. Kit had never yelled at you directly like that. And it hurt, it really did. You felt underappreciated. You didn’t just sit around all day and wait for him to come home. You cleaned, you cooked, so he wouldn’t have to worry about it when he came home. You knew he had to deal with assholes all the time so you wanted to make sure he had nothing more to worry about when he came home.

You balled up your fists in irritation and stomped your foot getting his attention.

“You think all I do is sit around and wait for you?” you yelled, “I cook, I clean, I run errands, I do all the laundry! All so you don’t have to. And don’t even get me started on when your friends come over! You all just leave beer bottles and food everywhere and don’t even bother to clean up after yourselves like pigs! It’s my job! I know that you have to deal with ungrateful assholes, but I didn’t know you were one yourself, Kit Walker!”

Kit stared at you with his big brown eyes, shocked and silent. You had tears running down your face and you just stared at each other. He stood up from the chair he had planted himself in and took a step towards you. You took a step back before running out the front door and into the night. You didn’t want to see his face so you just ran.

“(Y/N)! (Y/N), COME BACK!” you heard him yell but you didn’t care you just kept running.

You didn’t know where you were going you just started walking when you were far enough away from the house. You wrapped your arms around yourself and kept forward down the dark road, still quietly sobbing to yourself. Your feet began to hurt after what you had assumed was a few miles.

A bright light shone in the distance and you continued towards it. After a few minutes you realized it was the station, the lights still on oddly, since Kit always closed up completely. You noticed it was completely disserted, so you felt a little uneasy when you sat on the bench right outside the store under the lights. You hunched over as you sat there. Secretly hoping kit would come to take you home, even though you wanted to punch him in the teeth.

You don’t know whether it had been for a few hours or a few minutes you pulled your legs up to your chest and rested your chin on your knees.

You hung your head and didn’t notice the sound of an engine getting louder and louder. You heard the familiar sound of Kit’s truck pull up to the station and park right in front of you. You raised your head and saw Kit exit out of the truck with a bouquet of flowers in his hands. He looked at them timidly before looking back to you. You looked away wiping your nose on your shirt sleeve.

He stood in front of you and got down on his knees. You looked back to him and smiled just a little.

“Baby,” he started, “I am so sorry. You were right I am an asshole. I know you work hard and have to put up with me so, and I know that that’s not easy. I am so sorry, baby. You work so hard and I know I don’t show it but I appreciate it so much. I love you, baby. Please forgive me.”

You looked at him and your smile grew bigger, you took the flowers from his grasp and launched yourself into his arms. Surprised, he caught you and you both fell back onto the ground. When you saw he was okay you peppered his face with kisses and giggled at his expression.

“That’s all I needed to hear,” you said.

Kit stood up and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a tight embrace. You knew he was just mad and he didn’t mean any of what he said. But hearing him apologize and saying how much he loves and appreciate you just made it that much easier to forgive him. No matter what you loved this man with all your heart.

Kit pulled away from you and you looked into his dark brown eyes.

“We should probably get back, the stove is still on,” he said.

“SHIT!”

So, I’m using my vaporizer on-shift at the gas station (my workplace allows it) and while I’m serving customers, a customer at the pump right in front of me whips out his phone and starts saying, “hey, the guy working here is smoking weed! Right in front of everyone! I know, right?” And keeps going on about it VERY loudly, having a lovely conversation with his friend at my expense. I’m too busy serving customers to go out and ask what his fucking problem is. He leaves, and the customers are looking at me like I’m nuts. It’s a vaporizer, dipshit. I put tobacco in it. It’s healthier than cigarettes. You’re the one having a mental breakdown in the middle of a gas station. And by the way he was giggling like a schoolgirl and knew dry herb vaporizers could be used for weed, he was probably stoned as fuck. Hopefully he enjoyed making an ass of himself and hopefully I don’t get fired because of him.

#27: You Meet Such Interesting People On A Gas Station Graveyard Shift

By: MemoryFoamLatte

Length: Short

I mean, generally you don’t. It’s a half truth; there’s definitely a higher proportion of weird or scary fuckers than a normal retail shift, but after a couple months on the job you learn all the archetypes. The dead tired norms on their way home, the herds of teenagers on a candy binge, the meth heads who waste their entire month of food stamps on junk, the wine moms, the 24 hour gym rats, the alcoholics on bikes because of their DUI who panhandled 2 bucks for malt liquor.

It doesn’t take long to see it all, and I’ve been here for years. Long enough to see what I call “interesting”. Even when your threshold for abnormal is off the chart, you still end up with stories of the inexplicable or unnerving.

I’ll start with the latter. One autumn night, a man and a boy of about 9 came in around 3 am. I yell a half hearted greeting and barely glance towards them before back to my phone. The boy makes a slow, cautious walk towards the candy aisle, while the dad makes a beeline to the beer coolers. I can tell by his body language he’s somewhere on the scale between unfriendly and angry, shoulders forward, brisk stompy steps. I sigh, anticipating an argument I’ve had many times. 

“Last call was at 2, I can’t sell you that." 

He glances back at me, and moves wordlessly down the wall, selects a tea, and heads to the counter. The way he walks gives the impression he’s going to punch me. I ready myself and try to disarm him with a monotone "how are you doing?”

He hard stares me for an uncomfortable few seconds and says “pack of Marlboro reds”. Relieved he didn’t start whining or bargaining about his beer, I turn my back to him and grab the cigarettes, and jump with a start at a yell of “JACK! Fuckin’ hurry up man!”

I turn back and look past him to see his son at the candy aisle, thousand yard stare not really trying to make a selection. The first real look I’ve of had him tells me the tears he’s fighting wouldn’t be his first of the day. I ring in the smokes and tea and say nothing, hoping it will resolve itself. Dealing with the shit I see on a “normal” night, I’ve learned not to meddle. 

To no avail this time, as he tosses a grimy $10 bill for his incomplete purchase and not 20 seconds after the first time, yells “Jesus fucking christ, come ON!!”

That’s enough to stop my interest in customer service. Graveyard is an interesting dynamic; obviously we’re supposed to have the smiley welcoming personality all clerks are expected, but also I’m here alone and also need to give off an air of security. Cross certain lines and I stop being friendly. I say “hey, relax” in a low tone. 

He turns back to me with the same intensity with which he yelled and answered, “what was that?!”

“He can take 2 fucking minutes to pick the candy bar he wants. You’re invalidating any points you’d score for buying him one by being a dick.”

“You can shut the fuck up too.”

I tell him, “we’re done here”, grab his purchases out of his reach and push his money back towards him. As I do, I notice the bill has blood on it. Then I notice his knuckles on his right hand are bleeding, old caked blood still oozing. Now I’m sure this could get physical. I’m a solid 3 inches and probably 40 lbs larger than him, but who knows what crazy has in his pockets. Our brilliant company policy doesn’t allow weapons, but I keep “deterrents” conveniently placed in reach. 

I position myself to grab the pry bar and tell him “I bet your boy would like to leave now. He can keep the candy." 

He gives me the same long unsettling stare and replies calmly, "I’ll be right back.”

I didn’t stick around to see what he had in mind. I ran and locked myself in the back office and dialed 911. I felt a little stupid describing a run in with a guy who may just be an asshole, but I watched on the camera as he rummaged in the back seat. I described the car to the operator, and she asked: “Did he have a little boy with him?" 

Before I was even off the call with her, I began to hear sirens. A lot of them.

It took a few days and a few conversations with the police before I had the whole story. The response had been to an amber alert. Jack (Sr., tragically) had lost visitation rights to see his son, at the boy’s request. Not content with a simple kidnap, his ex wife was found attacked with a claw hammer. The wounds on his hand were splinters from her skull. 

This happened 6 hours drive from my store, and I was the first place they stopped. I try not to dwell on what might have happened if Jack had picked a chocolate in a timely manner.

anonymous asked:

What did you do for Valentine's day?

Stiles: I got stuck working the overnight shift at the station, rookie problems.
Derek: I brought him dinner though.
Stiles: And he brought my dad donuts so I got an extra 30 minutes on my dinner break.
Derek: *Smirks* It was a productive 30 minutes.
Stiles: It’s the only time I’ll ever approve of giving my dad junk food. And we ended up celebrating the next morning, and the next night too actually.
Derek: We celebrate a lot. 

Random Snippet 21: When We Were Young

Possible prompt if it gives you any inspiration - Caroline leaves Mystic Falls almost as soon as she’s turned (because why would she want to be around Damon and all the friends who didn’t really help her). A few months later she sneaks back into Mystic Falls to visit her mom and runs into Klaus?

This was sent ages ago, and I’ve lost the original prompt, but I hope you like how this turned out! I wrote it super fast, so apologies on any errors!

Warning: Violence and mentions of past-rape.



Caroline stayed inside the house for a half-hour after her mom headed for her shift at the station. It’s been six months since she’d been home, and the achingly familiar scents were so, so hard to let go of. But she couldn’t stay.

Not yet.

The car she’d stolen had been dropped off in miles of backwoods, but Liz knew its location as well as the VIN. It’d get returned. She had a second mode of transportation waiting for her in Richmond, and then it was back to being a ghost.

One last lungful to hold her over, Caroline stepped onto the back porch. She flicked the lock into place just as there was a blur of movement, and rough hands dug into her arm. Caroline twisted, her elbow snapping up. The fight was quick and dirty, and she ground the vampire firmly into the wooden railing, fingers digging into his chest so the scent of blood was heavy between them.

“Damon,” Caroline said with a bladed smile. “Not so easy when I’m no longer a human, is it?”

“Where is she?”

“Who?” Caroline asked curiously, tightening her grip when she felt his muscles bunch. “I’d think twice about that, Stefan. You might kill me, but I’ll kill Damon. Hate for that to be on your conscious.”

Stefan stepped into the moonlight, eyes narrowed. “You’re supposed to be dead.”

Caroline shrugged. “Turns out, Mom couldn’t pull the trigger.”

She’d be haunted by it for the rest of her life. Sitting in her living room, sobbing as her Mom held her firearm in a white knuckled grip. Everything had spilled out - the blood bags, Elena, Damon. Her broken pleas to just end it. She was a monster. Caroline would never, ever forget when her mom had sat next to her, so close that their legs and sides had touched.

“You didn’t kill the nurse. She’s alive.” Liz had touched her hair, and Caroline had smelled the fear and determination. “But you can’t stay.”

Her childhood had ended when she was seventeen, because these two vampires had played their games.

“Where is Elena, Caroline,” Stefan questioned as he took a step in her direction.

“I haven’t seen Elena since she smothered me with a pillow,” Caroline said sharplyas she shoved her fingers deeper, wrapping them around Damon’s heart. “I will kill him, Stefan.”

Damon gurgled something, and Caroline tightened her grip. She had no use for him. Keeping her eyes on Stefan in warning, her next words were nearly conversational as she continued to squeeze.

“Mom told me you’d come to her, looking for Elena. She’s not particularly inclined to help you, after I told her about the compulsion and rape. Oh, why the surprised face, Stefan? Did you imagine it was something I should’ve been ashamed of? I’m not girly little Caroline anymore.“

It had been. It’s taken weeks of work to get herself to this point, but she’d made the decision not to break. Being a vampire had given her what she needed to take control of her life, and she wasn’t going to give it up again.

“I’m certainly intrigued,” an accented voice murmured. “Damon, she’s a child and that is quite the grip on your heart, mate. Stefan, I wouldn’t.”

She flicked her gaze to the side, wary at the new voice. There was a vampire she’d never seen before watching her from the stairs, lips curled into a charming, dimpled smile. He was amazingly good looking, but something about the way he watched her, calculated and ruthless underneath the veneer of charm, told her he was very, very dangerous.

“Hello, sweetheart. You must be Caroline.”

Keep reading

What dating Stiles Stilinski would be like?

You sleeping over at his house whenever the Sheriff has to take a late shift at the station. But you’re pretty sure the Sheriff knows about you and Stiles’s little arrangement, he trusts both of you enough to say the least.

Helping him look through unsolved cases that might be linked to the supernatural, staying up late nights, talking about other things and drinking enough coffee until you don’t even feel remotely human.

Him throwing crushed notes at you in class just to get your attention to wink at you.

You picking up his habit of carrying pencils with you wherever you go (whether tucked behind your ear, in between your lips or in your hair)

When going to confront a bad guy, Stiles tells you to stay behind him so he can protect you with his baseball bat. “ I can’t afford to lose you Y/N, you mean too much to me.” He doesn’t tell you to stay home though because he knows that to some extent you can protect yourself and you wanna help your friends as well.

After Allison died you went into a state of shock because she was your best friend (besides Stiles) , the person you would go to if you were facing any problems and someone you could confide in. Stiles spend every moment with you, whether it was just cuddling you while watching a movie to distract you, holding your hand while walking along the hallways in school or sneaking into your room at night to hold you close when you got nightmares. He is someone who is always there for you.

Studying at your house for any tests coming up would be very productive for the first 30 minutes and after that it would lead to both of you making out on your bed or just hugging each other and talking about each others day.

Stiles coming by your house everyday to pick you up for school in Roscoe. Sometimes your parents would invite him in to have breakfast with them and despite the number of times Stiles has met them he is always super nervous about making a bad impression or saying something stupid ( but you think it is cute and makes you laugh) Although sometimes if you both are in a rush, you both would just grab something on the way to school at your favorite cafe on your way to school.

At lunch he would always hold your hand underneath the table.

Everyone in the pack thinking that both of you are so good for each other because you make each other so happy.

When Stiles was possessed by the Nogitsune, you were the one he thought of while fighting against the Dark Spirits mind games. You are the one who made him strong enough to fight back.

Watching Stiles play lacrosse after school whether at training (where you would do your homework ) or at an actual game, he would always be trying to catch your attention by trying to show off his skills in the sport (when he messed up though, you would be watching and it made you laugh so hard you had tears in your eyes, Stiles would just smile a shy smile and turn red. Scott catching on to what happened and ruffling Stiles hair mumbling to him that he was so whipped for you). 

 You had to admit he did look extremely good in his jersey ( especially with his lean body) . But he always told you that you looked better in it and sometimes he would give it to you to wear before a game so that everyone would know you were his and it made him feel so lucky to have gotten a girl like you. 

Going to Derek’s loft for a pack meeting and sometimes the werewolf would chat and flirt with you just to annoy your poor boyfriend. “Hey Sourwolf, why don’t you just give it a rest.” Derek would smirk and leave you two alone. And this is where you will grab Stiles and pull him towards you to kiss him. “ Don’t worry Batman, I’ll always be yours and only your Catwoman.”

Although you might not have known a lot about Star Wars, after dating Stiles for awhile, it was one of your favorite topics to talk about with him. Both of you would stay up late watching Star Wars and start talking like Yoda around each other. “Stiles, your math notes can I borrow, hmm..”  “For you Y/N anything, Yes hmmmm..”  ( it drives everyone around both of you crazy)

Originally posted by wolfiestoday

Kit Walker Smut.

I’ve been getting a lot of requests for just more Kit smut so here ya go. :)

You woke up late after a long night with your boyfriend, Kit. When you sat up, you winced a little. Kit had never been much of a gentle lover, but you didn’t mind. Kit had already got up and left for work. There was a single red rose sitting on his side of the pillow. You smiled and picked it up, smelling it. ‘He’s so sweet’ you thought to yourself. Kit had an early shift at the gas station, which was unusual, he was normally a night person. You took it as an opportunity to do something nice for the love of your life, and you got out of bed. You were wearing only one of Kit’s button up shirts, and it was a little chilly this morning. You shut the window and stripped down walking to the bathroom, to take a shower. Once you were done, you pulled on your underwear, and a flowery dress that you kept at Kits house. You got to work, cleaning the bedroom, the living room, the bathroom, the kitchen, and making lunch. You decided on a small ham, with mashed potatoes and corn and green beans. Kit would be getting off soon, considering you’d pretty much slept most of the early afternoon away and you were patiently waiting for him to walk through the door.

“Y/N, wow. Somethin’ smells good.” Kit sang out as he walked through the door. You jumped up and bounded over to him, wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing him on the cheek.

“I figured I could make you lunch and clean the house since ya know you’re kind of an alright boyfriend, I guess.” You smiled at him.

“Oh is that so? 'Kind of an alright boyfriend, you guess?’” He smiled back, the dimples in his cheeks caving in, and his brown eyes sparkling with amusement. “Let’s not forget who puts up with your ass.” he winked at you.

“I don’t forget. I put up with YOU.” He had moved his hand down your body to the small of your back, and with your last comment he flicked his wrist and slapped your behind, making you jump and laugh. “Eat, Kit. I slaved over it all morning.”

“I kinda wanted to eat something else.” He whispered into your ear, making you shiver. His voice made your belly do a flip, and a warmth course through your veins. He brought his lips down to your neck and planted tiny, wet kisses all over. He still had his hand on your behind, and he began squeezing it, and then took his other hand and squeezed your breasts. You brought your hands up to his hair and had cocked your head to the side so he could get every inch of sensitive skin. Kit had brought his hand up your dress now and moved your underwear out of the way. One long finger found your entrance and slid inside, causing the juices that were building up to leak out, and cover your outside. Your legs felt weak, and you gasped at the pressure he was applying to the walls of your insides with his finger.

“Kit.. I spent so long on lunch..” You whispered, barely able to form words.

“You feel so good.” He spoke back, not acknowledging what you had said. He pulled his finger out, causing you to exclaim disappointedly at the loss of pleasure. He lifted you up and walked you to the bedroom, laying you down softly on the bed. He slid your dress off, exposing your breasts. Your nipples were hard and sensitive. He took one between his teeth and you braced yourself for the painful pleasure that was going to come next, but it didn’t. Kit had taken it between his teeth, and closed his lips around it, flicking the tip with his tongue, and traveling his hand down your side slowly. When was done giving your nipple attention he kissed you down your belly and to your thighs. He got off the bed and pulled you close to the edge, kneeling in front of you. He slowly parted your legs, eyeing your exposed bits with complete admiration. He leaned in and kissed you in between the legs, letting his hot breath escape onto your skin. He closed your eyes and let the sensations take over. Kit touched his tongue to your little nub and licked, slowly and passionately. He brought a finger up and inside your entrance, pressing on the insides in that special spot. You clutched onto the bedsheet and threw your head back.

“Oh kit..” You could feel the warmth building, and your toes curling. You arched your back and let the pleasure take over, loosing yourself to the sensations. Kit kept up the rhythm with his tongue and his finger throughout, making your orgasm last longer. You were letting out gasps of air, after no longer being able to make any noises. You felt your orgasm weaken at least four times, but Kit kept it going, making it build up again and again. Sweat was dripping off your back onto the sheets, and your legs had turned into jello. 'I’m not going to be able to walk after this’ You thought. The feeling weakened again for the fifth time, and you started to straighten out your back, when Kit pressed on the spot again and your hands tangled up in his hair, and your back arched again.

“Kit.. Please..” You wanted to feel him inside of you. Not just his finger, but you wanted all of him. “Please, fuck me..” Kit slowly pulled his finger out and stopped flicking his tongue against your clit. He brought his face up to yours and you were breathing heavily, and raggedly. He caressed your face gently, and smiled.

“Turn around.” He ordered, as he sat up and took his belt off, throwing it to the side. He undid his pants and kicked them off. Lastly, his boxer came down springing his impressive member free. It was thick and long, and a single bead of cum had formed at the tip. You sat up and licked it off. Kits breath caught in his throat, and he put his hand on your mouth, holding your jaw in place. “Turn around, Y/N.” He said softly, but with force. You did as he said, and laid on your belly. He got between your legs and pulled your waist up to his. He parted your legs a little wider and ran his cock up and down your trembling slit, covering himself in your juices. You almost couldn’t hold yourself up anymore, shaking with anticipation. He positioned himself, and pushed in. He slid inside and pushed the walls of your insides to their limits. You buried your face in the bed. Kit had put a hand on the small of your back to help keep his rhythm in place. He was pumping slowly. His breathing had become ragged, and he brought his hand around to your front, locating your clit, he rubbed it to the beat of his pumps, and you still had your face buried. The pleasure was overwhelming and your felt once again, an orgasm building. This would be the seventh one since you started fooling around. You brought your face up, for air and trying to catch your breath you felt your body give over to the warmth and your legs began shaking, you cried out in pleasure and felt tears stinging the corners of your eyes. Kit let out a low growl, and you felt warmth spreading through your insides, mixing with your own juices. When Kit pulled himself out you collapsed onto the bed, breathing heavy and trembling. You were exhausted, and felt like you couldn’t move. Kit brought the covers up over you and laid down next to you, lighting a cigarette.

“Fun?” He asked, smiling down at you. You smiled back and he put his arm around you. “I figure I’d try something different and not be so rough.” He kissed the top of your head. You closed your eyes and started to drift off to sleep. He got up and got himself some of the lunch you made for him. You slept for the rest of the day.

submission - alien au
  • we’re both friends/ufo hunters and end up going cross-country to all of the ufo hotspots and somehow end up being in a relationship???
  • I’m a human that got abducted late one night and now you’re in my living room speaking in some tongues-like language 
  • alternatively - I’m an alien that got caught in your planet’s gravitational pull, I have no memory of what happened but now I’m in your home and you’re armed with a weird-looking stick and you look very afraid
  • you crash landed in the woods behind my house, bleeding blue blood, and I have no idea how to take care of you omg
  • I’m your neighbor in our duplex and every once and a while I hear you making weird noises and going out in the dead of night, bringing back heaps of trash and shit and I figured you were some type of alien- wait you are
  •  I’m working the late-shift in this gas station and you came bursting in demanding for me to hide you from the FBI, why are you like 7 feet tall and why do you have black eyes???
  • I was stargazing and saw what looked like a shooting star but it was actually you about to into the forest, creating a huge fireball and I am Scared™
  • I got involved in some top secret stuff and you’re the alien I freed from a military base 
You meet such interesting people on a gas station graveyard shift.

I mean, generally you don’t. It’s a half truth; there’s definitely a higher proportion of weird or scary fuckers than a normal retail shift, but after a couple months on the job you learn all the archetypes. The dead tired norms on their way home, the herds of teenagers on a candy binge, the meth heads who waste their entire month of food stamps on junk, the wine moms, the 24 hour gym rats, the alcoholics on bikes because of their DUI who panhandled 2 bucks for malt liquor. It doesn’t take long to see it all, and I’ve been here for years. Long enough to see what I call “interesting”. Even when your threshold for abnormal is off the chart, you still end up with stories of the inexplicable or unnerving.

I’ll start with the latter. One autumn night, a man and a boy of about 9 came in around 3 am. I yell a half hearted greeting and barely glance towards them before back to my phone. The boy makes a slow, cautious walk towards the candy aisle, while the dad makes a beeline to the beer coolers. I can tell by his body language he’s somewhere on the scale between unfriendly and angry, shoulders forward, brisk stompy steps. I sigh, anticipating an argument I’ve had many times. “Last call was at 2, I can’t sell you that.” He glances back at me, and moves wordlessly down the wall, selects a tea, and heads to the counter. The way he walks gives the impression he’s going to punch me. I ready myself and try to disarm him with a monotone “how are you doing?”. He hard stares me for an uncomfortable few seconds and says “pack of Marlboro reds”. Relieved he didn’t start whining or bargaining about his beer, I turn my back to him and grab the cigarettes, and jump with a start at a yell of “JACK! Fuckin hurry up man!”

I turn back and look past him to see his son at the candy aisle, thousand yard stare not really trying to make a selection. The first real look I’ve of had him tells me the tears he’s fighting wouldn’t be his first of the day. I ring in the smokes and tea and say nothing, hoping it will resolve itself. Dealing with the shit I see on a “normal” night, I’ve learned not to meddle. To no avail this time, as he tosses a grimy $10 bill for his incomplete purchase and not 20 seconds after the first time, yells “Jesus fucking christ, come ON!!”

That’s enough to stop my interest in customer service. Graveyard is an interesting dynamic; obviously we’re supposed to have the smiley welcoming personality all clerks are expected, but also I’m here alone and also need to give off an air of security. Cross certain lines and I stop being friendly. I say “hey, relax” in a low tone. He turns back to me with the same intensity with which he yelled and answered “what was that?!”

“He can take 2 fucking minutes to pick the candy bar he wants. You’re invalidating any points you’d score for buying him one by being a dick”

“You can shut the fuck up too.”

I tell him “we’re done here”, grab his purchases out of his reach and push his money back towards him. As I do, I notice the bill has blood on it. Then I notice his knuckles on his right hand are bleeding, old caked blood still oozing. Now I’m sure this could get physical. I’m a solid 3 inches and probably 40 lbs larger than him, but who knows what crazy has in his pockets. Our brilliant company policy doesn’t allow weapons, but I keep “deterrents” conveniently placed in reach. I position my self to grab the pry bar and tell him “I bet your boy would like to leave now. He can keep the candy”. He gives me the same long unsettling stare and replies calmly “I’ll be right back”.

I didn’t stick around to see what he had in mind. I ran and locked myself in the back office and dialed 911. I felt a little stupid describing a run in with a guy who may just be an asshole, but i watched on the camera as he rummaged in the back seat. I described the car to the operator, and she asked “did he have a little boy with him?”. Before I was even off the call with her, I began to hear sirens. A lot of them.

It took a few days and a few conversations with the police before I had the whole story. The response had been to an amber alert. Jack (Sr., tragically) had lost visitation rights to see his son, at the boy’s request. Not content with a simple kidnap, his ex wife was found unrecognizably mutilated with a claw hammer. The wounds on his hand were splinters from her skull. This happened 6 hours drive from my store, and I was the first place they stopped. I try not to dwell on what might have happened if Jack had picked a chocolate in a timely manner.

I saw you steal that candy bar.

When I was in college I worked the night shift at a gas station. One night a group of 4 high school kids drove in, and it looked like they were on a double date. They were apparently running on fumes and badly needed gas, but didn’t have much cash between them. They all came in and emptied the change from their pockets onto the counter and came up with $1.12 total. I punch in $1.12 as the pre-pay amount for their gas and the nice girl who was driving was appreciative that I had helped count out the change – there were a lot of pennies.

After this the girls go to use the bathroom while the boys peruse the small store. The aisles are angled towards the register so that I can look down them pretty easily. I see one of the boys clearly take a Snickers bar and place it into his jacket pocket – he made absolutely no attempt to hide this action.

I was about to call him out on it, but remembered that they hadn’t started pumping their gas yet. As they were walking out the door – “have a good night!” – I cleared out the pre-pay amount and typed in $0.59, subtracting the $0.53 that I knew the candy bar cost.

I then waited for the fun.

The nice girl starts pumping her gas and when the pump stopped at $0.59 she looks at me through the glass and raises her hand to make the international gesture for WTF. I motion for her to come inside and she’s a bit annoyed until I explain that her friend stole a candy bar, so I took the price of the candy bar off of the total amount.

The look of incandescent rage that crossed her face was beautiful! She took that anger back out to the car and opened the passenger door. Even though I couldn’t hear her, I could see her yell animatedly with her hands, and soon she started walking back to the store, candy bar in hand.

She placed the candy bar on the counter and said thank you, I put $0.53 back on the pump. I could see her still yelling at him as she finished pumping the gas and drove off.

TL;DR: High school boy steals a candy bar and I let his date know about it in my own way.

“So this is completely judgement free, more curiosity than anything, but do you actually have any idea beyond all those awful warnings of what smoke inhalation does to your lungs? Or what it’s doing to my lungs?” A coy smile played at her lips as she tossed her car keys around between fingertips, her shift a the station over for the day. “You can’t smoke here, missed the big neon sign, huh?” 

You’re trying to propose to me, but I (with my eyes closed) keep telling you to hurry up with your stupid surprise, I have my fucking eyes closed and I’m hungry

I got this drabble from this prompt list, and I was itching to write something and this one jumped out at me, so hope you guys enjoy! :D

“Wait, not yet.” 

Stiles huffed and kept his hands over his eyes, grumbling as Derek kept guiding him through the house, his back pressed snugly up against Derek’s chest. 

“Did you make, hmm, pizza? Like the best pizza in the world?” Stiles asked, stumbling over a piece of carpet. Stiles cursed, but Derek was there to keep him upright. 

“Nope,” Derek said. 

“Well what is it, babe?” Stiles huffed. He felt like they’d been walking through the house forever, although it had only been about 30 seconds since Stiles came through the door after a double shift at the station and Derek ran up to him, immediately covering his eyes. Stiles had thought Derek was trying to initiate sexy times - which Stiles was always up (pun intended) for - but that thought had quickly been dashed when Derek whispered in his ear that he had a surprise for Stiles. 

When Stiles has asked “a sexy surprise?” excitedly, Derek had shot that down, citing no sex would take place during the surprise. Although, hopefully afterward, maybe.  

So here Stiles was, exhausted, practically starving since he hadn’t eaten since a quick breakfast ten hours earlier, and ready to just eat in bed while watching some TV, snuggled up with his amazing boyfriend, even if he had to miss out on some sexy times for a night.

But Derek apparently wanted to do stuff, stuff that required standing, and walking and sitting upright. 

Stiles was grumbling as he heard Derek open the sliding door to the backyard. 

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dupilllewellaroland  asked:

Hi Natasha! How are you doing? May I make a request where Y/N and Dennis are best friends (but they have feelings for each other), and one day he arrives at home injured (but seriously), she decides to take care of him and many things happen, and then they become something more than best friends..

Of course I can do that for you, and because I know that today is your birthday, here’s a special treat just for you dupilllewellaroland on your special birthday  I hope you love it and wish you all the best and may more birthdays to come my dear!

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Originally posted by showandwrite

Imagine staying with Parrish when he has a night shift at the station.

——— Request for anon ———

“What are you doing here?” Jordan asks as you pull up a seat next to his paper-filled desk.

“Well, I decided that since the Sheriff gave you all this work last minute, I’d bring you dinner,” you smile, holding up the plastic bag filled with Chinese food.

“What would I do without you?” he sighs, gratefully taking the bag from you.

“You’d be living on coffee.”

careful

notes | Just a short, fun scene that would take place post One in a Million, because I couldn’t resist. (pretty short, currently hacking my lungs out)

title | careful


“Apparently as part of this team doctor thing, I occasionally get tickets to the games that I’m not on duty for,” Noa states, sans any kind of hello or preamble, sliding in next to Mario where he’s riffling through a set of charts at the nurse’s station. Their shift has barely started and it’s a Tuesday, which means that the ER is blissfully calm for what will likely be a fairly short period of time. “So are you busy on Thursday night?”

Surprised, Mario looks up from the paperwork he’s been scanning through, trying to discharge a patient who definitely could have waited to see their regular doctor in the morning. “I can be,” he answers distractedly, staving off a smile as he glances up to find her watching him, dark eyes sharp and one brow arched in question. “Trying to make sure you don’t look stupid when you have to actually talk to the players?” He gives into the urge to grin now, just that wolfishly amused quirk of a smile as she rolls her eyes at him.

“I mean, I can put them back together without understanding the foul they just got, but if it makes you feel cool and many to explain sports, I guess you can enjoy your consolation prize for not getting the job.”

The quirk of his grin splits wide open on his corresponding laugh, head shaking as Mario scratches a few last notes into his patient file before dropping it back onto the counter. “I’m driving,” he tells her, as if it would at all impact the fact that he’s going (he was already sold at ‘are you busy’).

“Whatever makes you feel better,” but she’s ducking her head on her own wild grin as she walks off to check on one of her patients, leaving Mario to sift through the remaining charts for his next case.

“Careful Dr. Savetti.” Jessie pipes up from behind the counter. Surprised, Mario glances over to him, to see Mama beaming knowingly, “that one will break your heart if you’re not careful.”

31 Days of Halloween: Day 13-15

Kristy (2014)

This was a lot better than I was expecting. I really love the atmosphere of this film, especially all the shots of the empty dorms. The ending was also pretty interesting. Definitely check it out.


Body Bags (1993)

Body Bags is one of my favorite horror anthology films especially since it was directed by two of my favorite directors John Carpenter and Tobe Hooper. John Carpenter also plays in the film as The Coroner who introduces the different segments. My favorite of the three segments is “The Gas Station” which involves a girl working night shift at a gas station meanwhile a serial killer has broken out of a mental hospital. It also features a cameo from Wes Craven.



Grave Encounters (2011) and Grave Encounters 2 (2012)

I watched both films back to back and I actually didn’t hate them but I wasn’t a huge fan of them by any means. I do love most horror films set in a mental hospital though and found footage horror films are my guilty pleasure. 

You Meet Such Interesting People On A Gas Station Graveyard Shift

by MemoryFoamLatte

I mean, generally you don’t. It’s a half truth; there’s definitely a higher proportion of weird or scary fuckers than a normal retail shift, but after a couple months on the job you learn all the archetypes. The dead tired norms on their way home, the herds of teenagers on a candy binge, the meth heads who waste their entire month of food stamps on junk, the wine moms, the 24 hour gym rats, the alcoholics on bikes because of their DUI who panhandled 2 bucks for malt liquor. It doesn’t take long to see it all, and I’ve been here for years. Long enough to see what I call “interesting”. Even when your threshold for abnormal is off the chart, you still end up with stories of the inexplicable or unnerving.

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@hxtdiggitydxg

She stood in front of the desk as her eyes shifted around the police station. Karen hated leaving Hell’s Kitchen to go down town  but the leads were taking her away from familiar stomping grounds.  She took the file out of her brief case and looked for the name she’d been given. Finally looking up from the manilla folder, a handsome man stood in front of her and it startled her for a moment.  

“Do you know where I can find a detective by the name of Negan?  I’ve got an appointment with him but I’ve only spoken to him on the phone.” She held the card with Negan’s name on it that she’d been given by Matt. “Sorry to bother you about this but I’m running late and need to find him as soon as possible.”

continued from here (x) @ravenhairedbandit

“Hmm?” Emma blinked the sleep out of her eyes, surprised to see Snow standing in the doorway. The clock flashed 2 am at her. She knew she had to get up early in the morning for her shift at the station, but that could wait. 

“Come here.” Emma scooched over and patted the open spot on the bed next to her. She knew that a tear-inducing nightmare couldn’t just be waved away with a go back to sleep; Emma had some nightmares of her own. “You wanna talk about it?”