#like they are like 'oh it's not that bad in my workplace'

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Gonna use the color printing at work to get a copy of this I can hamg on ceiling above my bed.

I...am honestly stunned by how you've managed to collect nearly all the soggy LWJ's of Poorly-Drawn-MDZS into one image. May he absorb all the bad energy in your life and give you sweet dreams!

[teh-nos]

i'm a big fan of this shot. she's up to no good and trying to make him do no good too. hashtag relationship goals.

[unloneliest]

the problem of the matter is i did internalize so much of what ex friend believed about me. even though i knew he was wrong and knew what was happening and tried to stop it and if i took more action to stop it would have been abusing power i held in a way i couldn't live with myself for.

[ioannemos]

the new hire: somehow, inexplicably, does not turn this whole thing around within the first month

boss:

me:

[ratspider]

i gotta be honest i am stoked to be a janitor. i see mops and i get excited

[dnptheinfinity]

an actual sentence i heard a guy at work say to someone today: “i was just surprised you didn’t recognize me since you watch anime and are on tiktok”

[thepoisonroom]

too much talk about Knowing What You Want And Knowing How To Get It not enough talk about the people (me) who've never known any of that a day in their life

[blood-mocha-latte]

unrelated and i totally get if you're not interested in asking questions about your career but how did you become a paramedic? how long was your training? I'm hoping to get EMT certification and maybe up it to paramedic eventually, but idk how much that will really interfere with my current career path.

hi love! don’t worry about career asks, i’m totally fine with whatever anyone wants to talk about (i have Chatty Bitch Disease)

and i’m afraid i misspoke because i’m a huge idiot that doesn’t know how to use words, lol! i’m emt registered and was going to become a paramedic, but ended up going to medical school instead and becoming an emergency medicine (em) doctor, working in an er lol. BUT i’ll still outline most of what i did, just in case. i also included things that my sister-in-law did, since she actually is a paramedic, lmao.

under the cut since this is kind of niche <3

becoming a paramedic:

- got high school diploma/ged (she took classes focused in anatomy and physiology, which isn’t required but can help to get you a foothold in what you want to do. i did this as well and highly recommend it)

- doing emt-basic certification training - for both of us, this took about half a year :) it was mainly just going into things like:

how to take vital signs and offering basic life support (i.e. administering oxygen, doing cpr)

other skills like controlling bleeding, taking care of burns, splinting bones, dealing with spinal injuries, and administering limited medication sets

- getting in-field experience! my sister-in-law did this but i didn’t, which i kind of really regret. even though it’s not required, getting more hands-on experience with emt stuff before applying for a program can help you get ahead and feel less lost :)

- complete a paramedic program - this takes about 1-2 years, typically (it took me about 14 months, and my sister-in-law 12, but we went through different programs). training mostly just looks like:

cardiology, dealing with physical trauma, administering meds, airway procedures, etc

field clinical rotations and ambulance runs are also a part of this, which are pretty fun

- getting certified/licensed (this is what my sister-in-law did, i went the opposite route and ended up getting an md, lol)

all states have differences, but you’ll have to take the nremt, which gains you certification as a paramedic. depending on where you live, there are other state requirements as well that would add on to what you would need to do to receive your license.

okay, that’s about it! some of this may be iffy, since this was a while ago and i don’t know where you are in this process/where you live/some of this is by word of mouth, but i hope this is somewhat helpful!

one thing i WILL say about going into anything healthcare is make sure you have the mental toughness for it. medicine isn’t for everyone, and emergency response/intensive care can be incredibly difficult to go through and maintain parts of who you are. i know people who haven’t been able to do it, and myself have troubles with c-ptsd because of it. hours can be rough (for the majority of this year i worked for 24 hours straight with 48 off, this is what a lot of my paramedic buddies do as well) and it can get in the way of life (i had to cut my honeymoon short by 8 days because the hospital needed extra hands).

i don’t mean to scare anyone off, because i love my job and can’t imagine doing anything else, but it can be a difficult field, so make sure you have a strong support system and know what you’re in for :)

thanks for asking! i hope this is both somewhat coherent and what you were asking, lol <3

[orcelito]

I love working somewhere that's so fiercely supportive of gay shit. We have a drink of the month sign that one of our gay employees decorated with pride month stuff & someone erased the "pride" in "happy pride month" aka a fuckin micro aggression I guess

Manager is a lesbian and she's like "Oh this is War. I will straight up use company money to decorate the store with flags" bc if some piece of shit customer can't handle a chalkboard sign they're gonna have to deal with So Much More 😊

[nyx-fey]

Arguing with pro-trump family members is like arguing with a brick wall

[valiantwolf]

ok good news lads everything is pretty much set for my mom's inurnment. hooray!

[apothecareful]

telling nick about all the stupid things my coworkers and i do on the line to keep each other in a good mood is everything to me rn

[apatheticsunday]

Graveyard Favors

AKA "The Lazarus Pit doesn't exist and Jason Todd crawls out of his grave. Only for a huge, red-eyed dog to escort him to the Ghost King, who apologies for making him a zombie. But, uh, I can kill your murderer for you?" prompt!

(Also known as Grimm!Cujo plays fetch with a Zombie Robin and Danny's just trying to undo a really, really bad clerical error.)

I like the idea of Cujo playing as a sort of Church Grimm, Charon (Ferryman of the Styx River in the Underworld), and Cerberus. He protects graves, guides the dead, and is Danny's personal guard dog to the entrance of the Infinite Realms. There are portals in every graveyard across the Realms because ghosts typically haunt where their bodies are. The King's servants collect the ghosts from Earth graves and safely into the Ghost Zone.

But what happens when a ghost re-enters its original dead body?? Do the servants just... shrug it off, say it's an Earth problem? Or do they do the workplace equivalent of going to the manager? I like the idea that it's actually Danny's fault and he's scrambling to keep it under wraps, to not do any worse of a job than he already is (he's still young for a Ghost King, he's going to make a lot of mistakes early on, right?).

Maybe Danny wasn't paying attention to his paperwork, had been stamping documents with his Royal Seal without really reading it, and Clockwork slipped in an Undead Appeal form in Danny's pile to teach him a lesson. The Appeal is for one Jason Todd-Wayne, located in a small plot in Gotham City.

So, Danny does what any person trying to undo a really bad mistake does. He says, "Don't worry about it, I'm taking care of it!" Except it's literally a human being he reanimated after being dead for several months. He's utterly terrified he's created the first of an unstoppable zombie plague or he's going to Ghost Jail for unknowingly violating the Geneva Convention of the Ghost Zone. Either way, Danny knows he has to handle this himself.

And there's Jason, leaning against a wolf-sized Cujo, at the foot of his grave. He looks... lost. Exhausted, alone. And Danny's like, oh, Hells, I did that. That's my fault. Cujo snuffles worriedly against Jason's face.

"Jason? Jason Todd?" Danny calls out. He wonders belatedly if he should've worn his High King of Infinite Realms attire, but he's still in Tucker's ratty Amity-Uni sweater and ripped jeans. Jason looks up at him from where he's now slouched against Cujo, slowly inching his way closer to the ground.

"I-my name's Danny. I'm-"

"Hospital," Jason rasps, nearly fully on the ground now. And oh, yeah, being freshly undead probably isn't as easy as switching between human and Ghost. Hells, what was he thinking? So, Danny finds himself in the Gotham Hospital waiting room as Jason's being treated and he's sitting there thinking about how to reintroduce himself. He can't be a stuttering, unsure mess when he's admitting to a grave error. Would Jason even believe him? Probably not, right?

That's how Jason Todd wakes up to the High King of Infinite Realms, Space, and the Dead next to his beside.

Danny admits his mistake, apologizes, and offers a Royal Boon in the form of an unbreakable vow. Anything his zombie needs or wants, the High King will provide. He probably should've expected it when Jason immediately says he wants to murder the Joker, brutally, painfully. Personally.

It's surprisingly easy to sign a Death Warrant.

(Later, after the Joker's prolonged and agonizing death is reported by the Gotham News, Jason asks Danny for money. Danny's like?? I already helped you avenge your murder?? And Jason just guilt-trips the ever-loving shit out of him. You brought me back from the dead a penniless and homeless zombie, you even said you'd provide for me, but now you're takin' it back?? Are you a fuckin' liar?? Danny's like, no, you're right, I'm so, so, so sorry, here's like 20k in Ancient Gold. Cue side-story of Danny unintentionally becoming Jason "Gaslight, Gatekeep, Girlboss" Todd's sugar daddy.)

[screampied]

boss at work and lovers in private w hiromi? He was very strict with the user at work and acts a bit rude/mean sometimes with reader.

But once they got home he fucks her nice and slow in bed as an apology for being mean at work <3

❤︎ ໋𓈒 higuruma who’s strictly mean in the workplace but makes sure to make it up to you at home.

warnings. fem! reader, dirty talk, unprotected, doggystyle, praise.

higuruma was a man who always took work seriously…

a workaholic if you will.

you always found yourself trying to tease him sometimes whenever he’d be working, and he’d just give you a glare. oftentimes, he’d be a bit stern and perhaps rude. although you couldn’t deny the bass in his tone whenever he spoke to you with such seriousness made you feel a bit…tingly.

just the rough rasp in his tone whenever he spoke directly to you, withholding intimate eye contact and telling you to stop fooling around and focus at the job at hand.

nevertheless, he did feel a bit bad, in fear that feasibly he was a bit too mean to his pretty baby. so he promises to make it up to you once the two of you get home. and that’s exactly what he does.

you couldn’t wait and neither could he. higuruma remained with his work clothes on, long black slacks pulled down briefly and the only sounds you could make out was the clanking of his belt. letting off a choked whine, you were willingly taking him from behind, and his touch..

higuruma stretches you out continuously with such ease, he’s got both of your wrists pinned behind your back before muttering, “i’m sorry baby. was i annoying you earlier?”

“y-yeah.” you moaned, feeling his tip brush right against that spot.

amorously, he slides a tongue across his lips while drilling into your cunt—you’re a stuttering mess. with a low chuckle departing from his lips, he hums.

“good,” and you bite your lip, his thrusts fulfilling you entirely. each sloppy hit that went against you time and time again, it left your mind completely dumbfounded. a quite perfect synonym to define your current state after all. “oh, don't whine all cute like that, y’know ‘m just teasing..”

higuruma’s words were so smooth and his tone was wholly soft spoken.

for a second, he dips his hips against you and you whimper, running your restrained fingers against his.

“god, you’re so pretty from behind. you know that, sweetheart?” his words went straight towards your pussy, that never failed to twitch on constant repeat. “such a perfect view. wish you could see for yourself, my love.”

“h-hirooo,” you’d mewl out, the right side of your cheek pressed down against the plump mattress. he knew just where to strike you with his dick, not too rough and not too soft.

just right. immensely, your toes curled each time he’d run his tip against your g-spot for a good two seconds, eliciting a loud moan from you. “fuck, f-fuck.”

“baby, you’ve got quite the mouth on you, huh?” he pokes fun, and you shiver once you feel the cold band of his watch trail against your skin. he presses a hand down your back, making you arch for him just a bit more and your eyes roll back yet again. “you’ve been pestering me at work all day, ‘s this what you wanted hm? wanted some attention—?”

the pleasures that pierced through your body was indefinable.

all you knew was that it felt so good, the way he pivots and smacks his hips softly against your ass, rolling and rotating them to where your head’s spinning like a merri go round.

“no,” you lied, and he huffs out a breath, grinning at you still having some brat left within you. once he deepens his thrusts for a short second, your mind pauses—you’re dumb, cock dumb if that even was a correct term for it, and you moan out. “y-yes.. you’re right, you were just so m-mean.”

he groans, feeling your slick start to stick against him throughout each movement he makes by rutting in and out of your greedy pussy.

“if i make you cum one more time, will that make up for it then, sweetheart?”

“m-mhm,” you’d nod, strings of your own spit falling against the sheets — oh, how much of a mess you were for him. only higuruma could have you like this, in this position. face nearly pushed against the mattress yet he’s presenting you with soft gentle thrusts. “make me cum, please hiromi.”

“pretty girl, you know i will,” he murmurs, and you let off a muffled moan once you bite your teeth into the pillow that remained underneath your chest. it was just the way his thickness dragged so easily against your folds. you could never get enough, his size had you drooling with such lewdness. “relax, don’t wanna strain that cute voice with all that moaning do ya?”

he watches you shake your head, and he chortles.

“sweet thing,” and his hips were so sensual against you, it was unfathomable to how good it made you feel. how good he made you feel. in the pit of your stomach—you felt something stirring, brewing up inside. butterflies perhaps, you pulsed between your thighs before he feels your leg start to jitter in utter anticipation. “ooh. ‘s coming isn’t it? you feel it too, my love?”

“r-right there,” you’d squeal, and by this particular point, your legs grew limp. his movements were unpredictable. higuruma’s jaw tightens as he’s balls deep, gawking at you clawing your nails down the white silkened sheets before bawling it up into the palms of your hands. “gonna c-cum, hiro. hiro.”

he slides a thumb against the corner of your back, maintaining a gentle tip against your hips before uttering in a husky voice, “yeah you are. c’mon baby. just let go for me. ‘s okay to be a little messy, yeah?”

“okay,” you’d babble, such thick inches that remained inside of you. your knees grew weak, he had such a grip against your waist that the pads of his thumbs pressed lightly down before caressing. higuruma always knew your most tenderest bits, the spots to drive you crazy. “h-hiro, ‘m cumming..”

a gasp exits from your mouth once you felt it, your entire body paused and juddered as a response.

your lips parted and the feeling made you grow quiet for a moment — ears, the very tips of them reaching such warmth of heat before you moan out his name once more. “t-thank you, thank you.”

“don’t thank me yet, gorgeous.” he whispers, leaning in to press a kiss against your back. “we aren’t done,” he says, and your legs still shook, sensitive before he turns you over to face him, pressing a wet kiss against your mouth. “i need more of you, and you need to be reminded of your place,” and his words were filled with such flirtatiousness yet was delivered so sweet. “so, just lie back and let me fond over this body just a little while longer.”

[mariasont]

OKAY OKAY OKAY this might seem really simple but i love the simple stuff

spence x reader

spence is just yapping about whatever, the quantum mechanics of coffee beans, as you said in one of your posts i think, and reader just cuts him off by kissing him IN FRONT OF EVERYONE on the jet.. and everyone’s there like.. oh! im imagining he kisses reader like he kissed lila in that pool scene IM FERAL. yes he kisses back.. and then the rest of it’s just garcia being a squeaking happy person and hotch and morgan are like “that’s my boy” but rossi and jj are just gagged

please im like

Reid the Room - S.R

spencer reid has never met a bad time to discuss aviation disasters. and before your survival instincts can stop you, you're kissing him just to make it stop

pairings: spencer reid x reader warnings: gn!reader (correct me if im wrong), secret relationship, pda, mild workplace inappropriateness lol, teasing/banter, spencer reid being spencer reid, mentions of plane crashes! wc: 0.9k

The words don’t just come from Spencer, they pour — fast and inevitable, like water rolling down slick stone, shaping everything in its path. You’ve spent months memorizing the subtleties of it, the tiny furrow between his brows when he’s thinking too hard, his fingers twitching mid-sentence, like even his body can’t quite keep pace with his brilliance.

He becomes more animated when he’s passionate. It should be illegal, you think, for someone to be this smart and this pretty at once. If the team ever noticed how intently you watched him, they’d know. They’d know everything. 

“— the likelihood of a plane crash is about one in 11 million, but what’s really fascinating is that 95.7% of people actually survive crashes, assuming they’re seated within the five rows of an emergency exit. Though, of course, the probability of surviving depends on factors like impact angle and —”

Morgan leans forward, bracing an arm against his knee, eyes locked on Spencer with the patience of a man debating the ethics of shutting someone up by violent force.“Hey, man, you ever hear of a bad time? We are currently on a plane. Read the room.”

For once, you don’t leap to his defense. No well-timed he’s just trying to educate us, Morgan, or an indulgent I think it’s interesting thrown in to buffer the onslaught. 

Instead, you glance at him, eyebrows lifting into something dangerously close to betrayal. Because, yeah. This might actually be one of those times. One of the Morgan is completely justified in wanting to tape Spencer’s mouth shut for the next four hours.

“I have heard of a bad time, but the concept is largely subjective. What you’re experiencing is cognitive bias, your brain associating this discussion with immediate danger because of proximity. In reality, the likelihood of a crash remains the same whether I mention it or not, so from a purely logical standpoint, this is no worse a time than any other.”

Morgan drags a hand down his face.

“...In fact, not talking about it could be considered the real danger. Avoidance leads to complacency, and complacency leads to fatal mistakes. Did you know that the most survivable crash positions involve bracing at a 60-degree angle? Although, of course, survivability depends largely on the structural integrity of the fuselage upon impact, and in cases of explosive decompression —”

It happens before you can think about — before the gnawing, frantic need to make him stop talking about plane crashes while you are actively inside one overrides all rational thought.

You turn, grab Spencer’s collar, and yank him in, your own common sense careening into a tailspin somewhere at 30,000 feet.

The moment your lips collide, Spencer’s entire body goes rigid, frozen mid-sentence, mid-thought, mid-existence. His mouth is still forming a syllable that dies in a half-swallowed exhale against your tongue. His hands, previously conducting an invisible orchestra of statistical doom, trap in mid-air like he forgot what hands are.

But he catches up fast. One second he’s buffering and the next his fingers twitch — once, twice — and then lock onto your waist like he’s just decided physics no longer applies and you need to be closer. It starts semi-tentatively, inhaling against your lips, breath uneven, before he presses deeper. A lit match dropped straight into gasoline.

You pull back, breath coming fast, Spencer still leaning in like he isn’t done yet. “Anyway. What were you saying?”

Spencer stares, lips parted, pupils blown wide. For a second, he seems to genuinely try to answer, searching his mind for whatever deeply important fact he was so adamant about a minute ago. “...I don’t remember.”

The jet is quiet — too quiet — and that’s when it hits you. 

You kissed Spencer. In front of everyone.

Something cold and hot spreads through you, and suddenly, your limbs don’t seem to be operating under your jurisdiction anymore. Do something. Anything. Breathe. Blink. Move. But nope, your brain is still buffering, and Spencer – dear, sweet Spencer — looks just as dazed, which means absolutely no one is saving you from this.

You could just… not turn around. Avoid whatever is waiting for you. Live the rest of your life facing forward like a malfunctioning animatronic. But the weight of twelve pairs of eyes boring into your back is impossible to ignore.

So, with all the grace of a person walking into their own execution, you turn.

Garcia has both hands glued to her mouth, body vibrating like she’s one second away from either screeching at a frequency only dogs can hear or launching herself into the air like a bottle rocket. Her eyes are huge, pupils dilated. JJ, meanwhile, is just staring. Frozen, lips parting as if she wants to say something but has no idea where to start.

And then there’s Hotch.

You swallow hard as you meet his gaze, expecting some level of seriousness, some stern professional acknowledgment of the wildly inappropriate display that just took place — but instead, he just exhales slowly, pinching the bridge of his nose like a man who is simply too tired for this.

And then, breaking the tension with the ease of a wrecking ball, Morgan lets out a low, satisfied chuckle. “Damn. I knew there was something going on, but damn.”

After the initial shock wore off — and after Garcia had texted Emily a summary in all caps, Morgan had called you both a lost cause, and Rossi had actually applauded — things mostly went back to normal. Mostly. Except now Spencer absolutely knew what he was doing.

And later that night, as you sat beside Spencer on the couch, he turned to you, utterly serious, and murmured, “You know, in the U.S., the majority of residential break-ins occur between 10 a.m. and 3 p.m. —” 

You groaned, yanked him in, and cut him off the same way you had earlier. He made a very pleased noise.

💌 masterlist taglist has been disbanned! if you want to get updates about my writings follow and turn notifications on for my account strictly for reblogging my works! @mariasreblogs

[fanfictionismyaddiction]

Ultimate Glow-Up

Part 2

Word count: 559

Pairing: Lando Norris x reader

Summary: Y/n was Lando’s childhood best friend who used to have braces, bad bangs, and a deep love for Minecraft. Years later, she shows up at a Grand Prix looking stunning.

________________________________________________________

Lando Norris had seen a lot of shocking things in his life.

He’d seen Max Verstappen drive an entire race with a broken car and still win.

He’d seen Daniel Ricciardo shotgun a shoey without flinching.

He’d even seen his own pit crew change all four tires in under two seconds.

But none of that compared to the absolute whiplash he experienced when he saw her.

“Mate, are you okay?” Oscar’s voice barely registered in his ears as Lando stood frozen in the McLaren hospitality. His drink was halfway to his lips, forgotten, while his jaw quite literally dropped. His eyes were wide, nearly cartoonish, as his brain short-circuited.

Because Y/n—his Y/n—his childhood best friend, his former Minecraft-building buddy, his partner-in-crime during their gangly, brace-faced, awkward teenage years—was walking toward him looking like that.

What the hell.

Gone were the crooked bangs she had once cut herself in his bathroom mirror. Gone was the oversized creeper hoodie she practically lived in from ages twelve to sixteen. Instead, she looked… elegant? Effortlessly hot? Her hair was all glossy and perfect, she had an easy confidence in her stride, and—was that eyeliner?!

Lando gulped. His fingers twitched around his drink. This was bad.

He wasn’t sure what was worse—the fact that she looked this good or the fact that she seemed completely unaware of it.

“Lando!” Y/n’s voice cut through his existential crisis, bright and familiar as ever. Her face lit up when she saw him, and before he could even react, she threw her arms around him in a hug.

Okay. Cool. No big deal. Just his childhood best friend pressing against him like it was nothing. Just normal, casual, totally platonic best friend behavior.

Lando did not freak out. He did not inhale her perfume like a total weirdo. And he definitely did not melt like butter in the sun.

“Y/n! Hey! Wow, uh—hey,” he sputtered as he pulled away, struggling to form actual words. He ran a hand through his curls, vaguely aware that Oscar was watching him like he was witnessing the most entertaining disaster of his life.

Y/n just grinned. “It’s been ages! I almost didn’t recognize you.”

Lando let out a laugh, slightly unhinged. She almost didn’t recognize him? That was rich.

“Yeah, uh, same,” he said, because he couldn’t just say what he was actually thinking, which was What happened? Who allowed this? Why didn’t you tell me you were going to transform into a goddess before showing up at my workplace?

She beamed. “You look exactly the same.”

Lando nearly choked on air.

“Wha—I—excuse me?” he sputtered, gesturing vaguely at her. “I look the same? Y/n, have you seen yourself?”

Her brows furrowed. “Yeah? Why?”

“Why?!” Lando’s voice cracked. “Because—because you—you’re all—” He waved his hands at her helplessly, looking to Oscar for support, but the Aussie was absolutely no help, hiding his laughter behind his hand.

Y/n, meanwhile, just looked confused. Like she genuinely had no idea what he was freaking out about.

“What?” she asked, blinking at him like he was the weirdo.

Lando opened his mouth. Closed it. Opened it again. “Nothing,” he mumbled, defeated. “You just—you look great.”

“Oh.” Y/n’s face lit up in surprise, and a faint pink dusted her cheeks. She smiled—an old, familiar smile, braces or not. “Thanks, Lan.”

Lando was so screwed.