you had on job

So, I watched the last three eps of this season and having seen the creepy blind almost kiss, I’m actually more cringed out over the part where he falls on her and doesn’t get off right away. It was a poor use of a trope and came across as both super awkward and creepy. The almost kiss was on the creepy side, too, since, you know she’s BLIND. (Though honestly it’s not entirely out of character for princess outpost, who is, in fact, an entitled, self-absorbed monster at times.) Also, Astrid’s “why didn’t you” line makes no sense. He didn’t because you turned your head. You know this. Stop reducing yourself to being a pawn in things that Hiccup makes happen, Astrid. The bigger question is why didn’t YOU? Alas, I digress.

What I don’t like, what I really don’t like (aside from an almost kiss that edges on non con) is that the rtte writers decided that hiccstrid development consists solely of making them kiss on screen and making Astrid be worried about Hiccup (and then making her apologize for that? Fuck that noise). This isn’t relationship development. This is cheap. Anyone can kiss. Kissing doesn’t mean anything at all. I don’t want to see them kissing in every episode. It’s weird. I want to see them working together and respecting each other and for fuck’s sake, I do not want to see Astrid apologizing for her feelings every damn episode.

So, in conclusion, my opinion is: meh. Still better fanfic out there.

Imagine you woke up one day to find several years had gone by in a blink. Maybe you were in a coma. Maybe you were in cryo-sleep. Maybe you angered a witch (it’s probably that one). Whatever: If you had a job and a place to live, you don’t anymore. Your friends have probably moved on. You feel out of place in the world. Oh, also, you have a giant tattoo on your forehead that says “desk-shitter,” because you shit on a witch’s desk, buddy – not a good move. That’s pretty much the same situation inmates are in, right after they’re released from prison: Not only adrift, but with stigma attached. Luckily, there are people who help. We spoke to “Carla,” who used to work at a correctional facility designed to assist inmates preparing for life on the outside.

One popular way to end up at Carla’s facility was to “serve more than 10 years in a state correctional facility and apply or be recommended to transition and finish your sentence early,” Carla told us. That includes legitimate murderers and psychopaths, who were absolutely not ready to re-enter society.

“When there’s a psychopathic rapist on the second floor and his file says ‘episodes triggered by ponytail hairstyle,’ don’t forget to bun your hair before bed check because he’s a fast motherfucker,” Carla says. “Some of them tried to kill me, [including a] neo-Nazi who constantly threatened to kill me until he knocked up a black stripper with twins and I helped her sign up for public assistance.”

But not even he was as memorable as the honest-to-God axe-murderer.

What I Learned Helping Hardened Inmates Return To Society

Night Falls: Chapter 18

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Summary: After witnessing a murder, Y/N becomes a protected witness to FBI Agent Dean Winchester, who needs her help to do more than just solve one man’s murder.

Word Count: 5,284

Gif:

A/N: Gird your lions, friends. I have a feeling you don’t know what’s coming. 

Wanna be tagged? Shot  @attractiverandomness a note and a “thank you” for being my tag master savior!

Night Falls Master List


You had decided to call it an early night that night, not wanting to face Dean any more than you had to. 

You got it. It was his job to protect you, and he wasn’t doing that when he was busy doing you. But if he was mad at himself, then that was his own problem, not yours. 

When he didn’t want you, sure, it made your chest tighten but you weren’t going to push him, risking what you thought would be further embarrassment. No one made him rush up those stairs after you and pin you against your door. He made that choice–whether good or bad–and he had to live with it.

And for Christ’s sake, it was sex. It wasn’t like you two had killed anyone. And no one had showed up to kill you, so all was fine.

Or so you thought.

Dean was gone by the time you woke up the next morning, and when Cas arrived for his night shift, he showed up with a new partner–Benjamin–a man older than Cas with ashy skin and graying hair. He spoke quietly but with surety, and when you asked Cas where Dean was, you were informed that he was working overtime at the bureau getting ready for the trial on Monday, making sure all necessary precautions were in place.

Sure.

Not that you doubted that, but Cas had no idea that Dean was clearly trying to avoid you. 

It made your jaw clench and head shake. For the first time since it happened, you actually regretted sleeping with him. What had been such a great moment was squashed and destroyed by the fact that Dean didn’t want to even see you anymore. 

You should never have made a move. You should have let things be. Sure, he finished it, but you had started it, and clearly that was a mistake. Because whatever it was that seemed to be growing between you two was now dead. 

The saving grace to it all was that the trial was quickly approaching and this would all be over soon, and you would never have to see him again. 

But as the weekend rolled on, there was a constant a sense of dread in your stomach. Reality had finally set in about what would happen Monday morning as Cas explained protocols–from the moment you left this house, until you were on the stand, you would be in a bulletproof vest with the bold FBI letters stitched across it. Before you even arrived to the courthouse, you would change cars, and do so again once you left, making sure that you weren’t being followed. While waiting to give your testimony, there would be several FBI agents escorting you around the courthouse. There would even be several female agents around so that you were never alone, not even in the bathroom. 

By Sunday night, you were mere hours away from seeing Zazel again and being put on the stand. You forced yourself to replay the night in the parking garage, and the day at the flee market, remembering exactly what got you into this mess so that you could end it once and for all. You tried to once again find that fire that had burned inside you, the rage towards Zazel for ruining your life that helped you hold your head high and your will steel, but as the hours ticked by, your determination was waning.

You briefly wondered if Crowley would be there, but you doubted it. Though you had no idea what he looked like, you assumed the FBI did–but what if they didn’t? What if he sat in court as an unassuming spectator? What if he finally saw the woman who was threatening his empire–helping the man that had been trying to take him down since the moment his mother was murdered? Would he try anything? Or just stare you down while you were none the wiser?

You really didn’t know much about Crowley, though you knew enough by now that you were going to be challenging a man who had been spending the last three decades building a criminal empire that hadn’t been challenged until now. 

Way to put a fucking target on your back.

There was still no guarantee that once the trial was over, and Zazel was-assuming–found guilty, that you would be able to return to your normal life. There was no promise that just because you finally held up your end of the deal, that you would get the happy-ever-after you so naively believed was waiting for you at the end of this ordeal when you signed your witness statement. 

Because at the end of the day, you weren’t playing by the FBI’s rules. You were playing by Crowley’s. 

Tomorrow morning you would take the stand, revealing yourself to the world. There was a fair chance that Crowley would come after you, and if that happened, there would be no returning to your normal life. You would be thrown into witness protection, given a new name, a new job, a whole new life where Y/F/N Y/L/N never existed. 

You would never see your parents again, or be by your sister’s side once she finally got married, or sit on the sidelines and cheer her on as she walked across the stage as Doctor Lydia Y/L/N. You would miss Mike’s child–who was due only two months from now–or any nieces or nephews that would come after. Your life would be snatched away, with no chance of ever going back. 

And as you in bed that night, you can’t stop the tears from prickling your eyes. With no one around to be strong for, you let yourself be weak. Because once you leave this room, you had to show the world that Zazel didn’t scare you, that Crowley was nothing but a name, and you, without a single doubt in your mind, would be there to take them down. You Y/F/N Y/L/N.

But no matter how much you tried to reassure yourself that tomorrow would go exactly as Dean had been promising since the day he knocked on your door, that tomorrow would finally bring an end to this living nightmare, you couldn’t stop the gnawing fear in your stomach that this was far from over.

Keep reading

Oh! Oh! Can I request a Negan x reader fic where the reader just turned 18 and Negan shares her first drink with her which leads to the bedroom? I got my fingers crossed for a little freaky-Deaky. 🤞🏻❤️ @fandomfreak202


sorry this took a decade to get out! hope you enjoy! x 


“23rd February. Red circle? Shit. Why did I circle today?” you thought curiously, looking up at your calendar, you had purchased from the sanctuary’s ‘store’ with your hard earned points. You had the job of laundry, mostly just the wives dresses and lingerie. They frequently needed them washing, considering Negan got through at least a minimum of two wives a day. You couldn’t deny your jealousy, sitting on your ass all day and getting anything you wanted would be nicer than having to go outside and deal with the post-apocalyptic world. You knew Negan would never offer you the chance to become a wife, his pet names for you were ‘kid’ or ‘little one’, making you feel like a three year-old. He would never see you as a woman, always that kid.

You got ready for the day, grabbing your point’s sheet and heading down to the washroom. Your friend, Malia was already down there, working away without you. “Trying to get some extra points? Your a half an hour early.” She quizzed, looking confused. “No, I’m just a little forgetful today. I circled today on my calendar and I can’t remember why. Did I ever mention it to you?” Malia shook her head, folding the top she was holding. “No. I can’t remember you mentioning anything.” You sighed, feeling stumped. You knew that it would annoy you until you remembered why today was so special.


 You finished your 7 hour shift, placing the washboard back in its holder.  Malia had finished about an hour ago, saying good night to you as it was getting dark when she left. You wiped your face with a flannel, a slight sheen of sweat on your forehead.  You locked the door to the washroom behind you, placing the key in your back pocket. You began walking back to your room, located on the other side of the sanctuary. You took a turn to the left, walking down the corridor that had the saviour’s rooms along it. Going up the stairs, you came to the floor that housed the wives and their rooms.  A pain of jealousy hit your heart, knowing Negan was probably with one of them right now.

You came to your door, before Simon sneaked up on you from behind, wrapping his arms around you in a hug. “Happy birthday, sweetheart!” he exclaimed, as you turned your head to look at him. That’s what you had forgotten; it was your birthday today! You didn’t really see the point in celebrating birthdays anymore, but you didn’t want to put a damper on Simon’s mood. “Thank you Si. What did you need me for?” You asked, just wanting to get a nice bath. “Negan wants to see you in his room, asap.” he said, giving you one last hug before walking off back to his duties. You started to worry a little, if Negan asked you to visit him, it wasn’t normally good. Last time, Dwight had been burnt by Negan. You couldn’t think of anything you might have done to piss him off, so you hoped it wasn’t anything negative. You walked further upstairs, onto the floor of Negan’s room. This floor was reserved for Negan and his top guys, making you intimidated and not worthy of being here. Negan’s door was placed at the end of the hallway, every step you took felt like a mile. You approached the door, breathing in and out before knocking firmly on the door.  

“Come in!” you heard him shout through the door, firm and blunt. You pushed the handle down, opening the door with a slight creak.  You popped your head around the door, seeing Negan sat at his desk, leather jacket placed on the back of his suede desk chair. “You wanted to see me, sir?” you addressed him, not knowing what your words did to him. “Come on in sweetheart.” He beckoned you in with his fingers; you feeling yourself swoon at his nickname. You walked further into the room, his eyes watching your chest swell in the tight tank top you had on. “Don’t be nervous, darlin’. I brought you in here because…” he started, opening one of his wooden desk draws to reveal a bottle of whisky. “I want your first drink to be with me.” He pulled the lid off with his teeth, grabbing two small glasses. He guided you to the couch, sitting at the side of you. He placed the glasses on the glass coffee table in front of the couches.  He passed you one, clinking the glasses together before you both gulped them down. You heaved at the taste, feeling the alcohol burning your throat. “Don’t worry darlin’, you get used to the taste.”


“So you were a teacher? In a school? With children? And you didn’t get fired, ever?” you asked in disbelief, feeling tipsy from the whisky you and Negan had been sharing. “Hey now, I was a good fucking teacher. I do wonder what happened to my students sometimes though, some of them were fucking good but others were fucking shit.” He confessed, downing the leftover contents of the glass. “Did they call you coach Negan? Or Mr Negan?” you giggled, picturing Negan in a sports outfit, playing soccer or basketball. “Always fucking sir, sweetheart. They showed me respect, just like you do doll. I like that about you.” He smiled, edging closer to you. 

“You know, being 21 now. I don’t feel any different; I don’t feel like a woman. I mean, what 21 year old hasn’t had sex before?” you sighed, not realising what you had let slip to your crush.  “You’re a virgin, doll? Oh my goodness.” He said, getting up from the seat. “Please, don’t treat me like a kid. Negan.” You sighed, walking over to him, grabbing onto his t-shirt to make him stay. “I want this, I want you. I have for a while but you see me as some dumb kid, don’t you?” you cried, letting the alcohol mess with your emotions. 

“No sweetheart, I don’t see you as a dumb kid. I see you as an independent, sexy grown woman. I’ve always wanted you, hell more than my fucking wives. I’ve imagined you in every position possible, but I didn’t want to act on it because of your age. I didn’t want to be the creepy old pervert.” He explained, his eyes burning into yours. “Well, lucky for you. I’m into older guys anyway.” You whispered into his ear, beginning to kiss under his earlobe. You heard him give a low growl, picking you up, walking towards the couch again. He put you down, spreading your legs so he could get in-between them. He placed his lips on yours, his beard rubbing against your cheek. Your fingers ran through his slicked back hair, as his hands grasped your waist. You ran your hands down his chest, and put them up his t-shirt, silently begging for him to take it off. He whipped it off, disregarding it on the floor, his full attention on you. He placed his hands on his belt, undoing it so he could get to his zipper.  

He began to slide his trousers down his legs as you took your top off, throwing it down near his t-shirt. You straddled him, feeling his hardening cock through his boxer shorts. He ran his hands up your back, unclasping your bra. As soon as your breasts were exposed, he took your right nipple in his mouth, sucking and teasing. You moaned, grabbing onto his hair. You broke away from him, so you could take off the rest of your clothes. “You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this babygirl.” He gasped, pulling your naked body back on top of him. You put your hands down his boxer shorts, grasping onto his hard cock. He moaned, bucking his hips slightly as he lifted himself so you could slide them off his body. They fell like a pool at the bottom of his feet, kicking them off before climbing back on top of you.

 “Fuck, are you ready sweetheart?” he asked, you dripping with anticipation. “Yes fuck!” you begged, Negan admiring you from above. He slid into your opening, you fitting him like a glove. You felt a tight pain as he began at a slow pace, knowing he didn’t want to hurt you. The pain started to subside the faster he went, you easing more into it. “Fuck, Negan harder!” you moaned, wrapping your legs around him, allowing him to go deeper. “Fuck, sweetheart. You feel so fucking good!” he said, grabbing your legs from around him, placing them on his shoulders. You gasped at the new feeling, pleasure building up in your core. Negan could feel himself getting ready, not wanting to release before you.

 “Come on baby, let me see that pretty cum face of yours.” He growled, hearing your whimpers and moans bringing him closer to his own climax. You felt yourself let go, along with a loud shout of Negan’s name. “Fuck, sweetheart. Shit!” he swore, feeling him release inside you. He fell on top of you, making sure not to crush your body in the process.

“Fuck, baby. Can I propose to you now?”

回 ░ : ❝ Can I go back to Gensokyo now ? I literally did not ask for ANY of this. ❞

anonymous asked:

*curtsies* Hi Duke! I'm going to be starting my BA in English and History in September and finished school in December last year, so I sort of have a gap year. I've had a job lined up for a while but I'm beginning to think it might not be best for me. I was wondering if you had any advice? Ideally I'd like to get a job in the U.K. that's related to my interests in English and History, but I'm also considering the benefits of maybe volunteering somewhere like Borneo? What do you think?

*Curtsies* So, first things first: it’s going to be nearly impossible for you to get a real job in the UK in the time you’re talking about if you’re not a UK citizen, because nobody’s going to give an 18-year-old a work visa. You can really only work in the UK if you already have a visa to be there (i.e., for school or as the spouse of a UK citizen, for example) or if you work in a highly specialized field and your employer can make the argument that there is nobody in the UK qualified to do what you. As someone who’s just finished high school (as your being about to start your BA would imply) that is… not likely. Here’s the other problem with that plan: Moving to a different country is hella fucking expensive, even if you can get the work visa. And even if you did manage to get a work visa, somehow, if you don’t have a degree yet there’s no way you’re going to be able to get a job that will make back the money you spent moving to England (or wherever). So then you’d be looking at starting undergrad already in debt, and I literally can’t stress enough how much that would suck. Here’s the last issue with this: You’re starting school in September? It’s already almost March. That’s not a year; that’s six months, and you will have a lot to figure out between now and going off to school, so that’s something else to keep in mind. 

I think the first thing you need to do is research (you can start with my US to UK tag if you want; it may shatter a lot of illusions), and the second is to be realistic. Because as much fun as it is to make all these grand plans, it’s going to be a lot of planning for nothing if you don’t stop to check whether what you want to do is actually feasible. This is not the time to be romantic. This is the time to be practical. Nobody gets their dream job at 18, and you may be a lot happier in the long run if you take the job you have lined up and start school with a little money saved. Because then maybe you can afford to study abroad in the UK. Food for thought.

I promise I’m not trying to rain on your parade. I’m trying to be honest with you and save you a lot of anxiety down the line.

Valentine’s Day Special #31

(Not stated) Modern AU 💙  Crush on Kid requested by Anon

It was adorable, really. The two of you were complete opposites yet the chemistry was as clear as day. You were the cute, shy girl that embodied perfectly the expectations of the girl next door. Kid was that punk that everyone, except his friends, avoided. His little gang always found trouble and he never said ‘no’ to a fight when provoked. 

You had taken a part time job at a small restaurant that the locals loved and it paid well. It also helped you overcome some of your shyness and quietness. You were grateful to the locals for being patient on your end and finding your shy nature very adorable. You were behind the counter when you saw Kid and his small posse come in. You felt your whole body shiver at the intimidating men in front of you, the one in front was almost a foot taller than you, but you realized that you would hate being judged if you were in their position. With some deep breaths and mental prep talk, you welcomed them and told them your special which was curry udon. He made a disgusted face at the mention of it and you couldn’t help but find it cute, hiding your smile by looking at the counter. You mentioned your other specials and after a bit of back and forth, the group finally ordered a meal the size of a feast. 

You brought the food over and put the bowls of food down on the table. You were about to head back to your spot behind the counter when the voice of the man behind the mask spoke up and stopped you.

“You’re new here, right?” You looked back at them and nodded, noticing that the man with the red hair was already eating the cabbage rolls that you placed down.

“I just started very recently and I’m still getting used to it.” The man nodded and pointed to the red head next to him. 

“Kid and I are regular around here so I guess we’ll see you more often.” You smiled and nodded.

“My name is (Y/N) and I’d be happy to serve you when you guys come in.” The masked man pointed to himself while the red head grunted, acknowledging what you said.

“Killer,” which made you raise your eyebrow at the odd name but didn’t dwell on it too long, “and this is Kid.”

That’s how it all started, Kid and his group would come in and order while also chatting with you. It became a thing where it would be Kid and his posse or just with Killer but lately it’s just been Kid coming by himself. He usually picked up food to go and leave but it’s been a regular thing that he stays and talks with you. The two of you chatting and being friendly with each other surprised a lot of people, including his friends. His friends noticed the happy expression on the man’s face and took every chance they got to poke fun at the both of you (one of the reasons why he showed up alone nowadays). He wouldn’t admit it but he basically memorized your schedule due to him coming in so much. Your coworkers even told you that he wouldn’t show up when you weren’t there.

He was a grump but there was something about the way that he talked with you and the underlying kindness behind his actions. As the days went on, you wanted to see him more than just at the restaurant but, due to your shyness, you told yourself that you were content with just the daily visits. What you didn’t know was that, he was having the same issue but he was becoming more anxious. 

He walked into the restaurant and immediately went over to the counter where you were, ignoring the heat that wanted to come up to his cheeks when you smiled up at him.

“Hey, Kid! What can I get for you today?” He rested his hands on the counter and leaned forward, making you blush at how close he was getting to you. 

“When do you get off?” You cleared your throat, his eyes were staring into yours and it took all you could to not lose focus.

“Um… I-In three hours?” He groaned and looked at your boss that came over to check up on everything.

“I’m taking (Y/N) for the day.” You blinked and eyes widened at how your boss easily agreed as the day wasn’t that busy so far and another coworker was coming in anyway. He went behind the counter and tugged you out. You struggled to keep up with him and your other hand came up to grasp the hand that was pulling you, using all your strength to at least pause him in his tracks.

“Wait, Kid! W-What’s wrong?” He looked at anywhere but you.

“There’s nothing wrong.” You raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to say something else. “Just… Just wanted to take you on a date, alright?” You blinked and a dark blush filled your cheeks.

“A-A date?” He groaned under his breath.

“I’m taking you on a date today.” You had just realized that you were still holding your hand in both of his but even if you were embarrassed, you didn’t want to let go just yet. A shy smile lifted your lips as you sheepishly looked up at him. 

“Surprisingly romantic of you. Wanting a date on Valentine’s day?” He blinked and his free hand covered his face, groaning and making you giggle at his flustered expression.

Suicide Squad: Being cheeky toward Task Force X, teasing them with their freedom and throwing one liners just to get under their skin.

For Anon!

~~–~~–~~–~~

“Get outta the way!” Deadshot demanded, frustrated with you already.

They had a job to carry out. The first one without Flag directly at their throats to babysit. Nobody wanted to mess that up. But you had other ideas, standing in front of them and threatening to kill them if they didn’t let you finish talking, among other things.

“Make me,” you quipped, tilting your head to the side and smirking sweetly.

Digger threw his hands up in the air, turning on his heel and gripping his boomerang in frustration. Harley stomped her foot, her curly white pigtails bouncing.

You only smiled wider, watching Deadshot’s jaw clench. Killer Croc curled his lip, and your eyes flitted to his, lit with a warning. He went silent. “You know,” you said, “I could have you free like that.” You snapped your fingers and suddenly Harley didn’t seem so put-out anymore.

Diablo glanced toward you warily. You nodded. “Oh yeah. My powers are beyond your comprehension, you see.”

Deadshot scoffed. “Uh-huh. Sure. Show me.”

The amused glint in your eyes vanished, and your smile along with it. “Try me,” you shot back almost immediately, taking a step toward him. “I could stand here all day.”

“I’m callin’ bullshit,” Digger growled. “On both counts.”

Deadshot was still for a moment before shaking his head vigorously. “Uh-uh. As much as Flag pisses me off, he helped me get my daughter back. I ain’t playin’ your games.”

You raised your hands in surrender. “What, you don’t appreciate my sense of humor? I was joking, sorry.”

Digger nodded slowly, lips pursed. And Harley was mad again. Maybe it was time to take your leave.

Originally posted by heartofdevastation