#but also how pissed they are that they went through what they went through in the first place

[toomanystoriessolittletime]

wake up call

Summary: Joel was looking forward to a blissfuly at least 10 hours of sleep after being on patrol non stop for a week. Confused after waking up after only a couple of hours he is beyond pissed once he finds out it's a lawnmower of all things that woke him up twenty years into the apocalypse. And he sure as hell is gonna let his neighbour know how he feels about that, no matter how good she looks in those leggings.

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem. reader

Wordcount: 2.2k

Raiting: T

Warnings: lawnmowers at 7 am, a very sleep deprived Joel Miller, yelling, yelling while naked, Joel being kind of a dick but making up for it, tension, flirting, one or two inappropriate thoughts, it's pretty tame tbh

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Full Masterlist // Joel Miller Masterlist

Joel was beyond exhausted. 

With a group of raiders getting a little too close to Jackson than they liked, the last week had been non stop patrol with only little sleep. 

But yesterday, finally, they had gotten the group taken care off and Joel had gotten home at 3 am, intending to not leave his bed until at least noon. He had checked on Ellie who was passed out asleep in her bed, the book she had been reading fallen out of her hands, now laying on the floor. He had picked it up, tucked her in and turned off the lamp on her bed side table, releasing a long, tired sigh as he made his way towards his room afterwards. 

Within fifteen minutes he had taken a quick shower, making sure to use the blackout curtains he had found in the basement a month earlier, before he passed out in his bed, in a blissful, dreamless sleep. 

A sleep that ended way earlier than he anticipated. With his eyes still closed, he turned from his belly on his back, eyes slowly blinking open with a frown. 

The red digits of the clock on his bedside table glaring at him at 6:58 am (or whatever time it actually was. The satellite to the clock probably having died a long time ago)

He threw an arm over his eyes, slivers of light coming though his curtains, the day outside slowly starting while he wanted nothing more than to fall back asleep. 

Why did he wake up?

Eyes dropping back closed, he was about to turn to his side, pulling his blanket up when he heard it. 

A noise. 

A low hum that he couldn’t place at first. 

He searched his brain, the noise somehow familiar much like the annoyance that came with it. 

A sound from another time. 

A time where he also tried to sleep in, only for his little girl to climb into his bed, equally grumpy about being woken up by the same noise he was hearing now. 

Back then it was the Adlers impeccable timing of mowing their lawn precisely at 7 am every Saturday morning, even though the could have done it any other day of the week. Still, instead of using the time they were at home all week while the rest of the population went to work, like clockwork, they would mow their lawn every Saturday at 7 am sharp. 

„What the fuck?“ He whispered to himself, turning his head towards the window as if he could see through the curtain what was going on outside. 

It was twenty fucking years into the end of the world, who was mowing their lawn at 7 am on his day off?

With a mood worse than when Tommy had crashed Joel’s first car before the outbreak he got out of the bed, naked as he had fallen asleep with a groan, stomping towards his window. He ripped the curtains apart, eyes squinting from how bright it was on this summer morning already when his eyes finally fell on who was the culprit in his sleepy plans. 

You. 

His new neighbour. 

He had seen you in passing a couple of times since you got here. 

Maria had told him you had fled from a year long capture of some slavers, urging him to take it easy on you and not be his usual asshole self with being new neighbours and all. 

He had scowled all the way back home.

It had not been his fault that the men who had lived in your house before had been a fucking creep. He had to punch him in the face. Really. 

Taking a deep calming breath he looked down towards your backyard now, his bedroom window facing it, giving him the perfect view on whatever the hell you were doing. 

He noticed that the garden looked well taken care off now, not like the jungle like garden he had in the back of his house. You had cut down some trees, getting rid of some bushes. There were some flowers blooming close to the fence, but in the middle was you. 

Wearing what looked like leggings and a baby pink tank top, pushing a fucking lawnmower through the knee high grass. 

The picture was so foreign to him, he forgot why he was mad for a second. 

It was the lawnmower throwing him off, of course. Or the way you seemed to have no idea how to mow the lawn in the first place, going through your garden in pure chaos. 

It wasn’t you in that outfit that hugged every curve of your body like a second skin. It wasn’t the way he could see the sweat running down your neck even from how far away he was standing as you pushed the mower through your garden. And it definitely wasn’t how your ass looked when you bend down to reach for something, his cock twitching in interest he ignored. 

No.

It was the fucking lawnmower.

Before he knew what he was doing he had ripped the window open. 

„What the fuck are you doing? You want us all to get killed just to have an English fucking lawn?“ He yelled loudly, internally cringing at the way he saw you jump before your head snapped towards him. The noise of the lawnmower stopped and you brought one of your glove covered hands up to shield your eyes from the sun as you looked up. 

He didn’t see the way your eyes widened to not only see him, but to see him as naked as the day he was born standing in his bedroom window. 

„Good morning to you too!“ You yelled back and Joel felt a muscle twitch in his jaw. 

„Stop this fucking nonsense, or I will,“ he said with a huff and now he saw you roll your eyes. 

„Just so you know, I got permission to use it form the council. Fixed the lawnmower myself,“ you said almost proudly, your eyes finally drifting away from his impressive manhood, looking at his garden. 

„Think your garden could use it too,“ you said, before you looked up at him again. 

„I mean it, stop it, or I will,“ he warned before he closed his window and the curtains again. His heart was beating wildly in his chest, his breathing rapid as he tried to calm down, agitated about the audacity of the woman living next to him. 

And what if she had the permission for this nonsense? But to do it at 7 am? 

He released a long breath before he padded over to his little ensuite bathroom, doing his business before he got back into bed, intending to fall back asleep again when the noise outside started again. 

He could let this go. Turn around, hide his head under his pillow and fall asleep. 

Hell, he slept through much worse things since the outbreak started and even before. 

Instead he got up, threw the curtains and window open and yelled:

„Get that fucking thing off!“ 

This time you didn’t even look at him. But you did react, holding one of your hands up, giving him your middle finger while you continued to mow the lawn, seemingly without any plan what you were doing. 

„Fuck this,“ he hissed to himself, before he turned away from the window and searched for his clothes. 

You were getting the hang of this thing, when you saw something move beside you. Turning your head around your eyes widened when you saw your neighbour walk towards you, this time dressed, but no less handsome. 

Making sure to turn the lawnmower off you took a deep breath before you turned fully towards him, ready to argue with him some more when he held one of his hand up in surrender. 

„Let me mow the fucking lawn so I can go back to sleep. I got home from patrol at 3 am. I just wanna sleep and I can’t do this with whatever it is you think you’re doing here,“ he said and your mouth dropped open in offence, ready to argue with him when you noticed the dark circles under his eyes. 

You had heard about the group of raiders that had been threatening the town these last weeks. And you knew you neighbour Joel Miller, even though you hadn’t really talked to him before, was in charge of leading patrol. 

And yeah, maybe it was a dick move to test the lawnmower at 7 am but the last week had been so hot and you had been so excited to finally got the permission to try it out, since construction was working outside of the wall today and would be able to keep an eye on anyone who could have heard you make this noise that you wanted to take care of this before the heat got worse. 

„I’m…. It’s okay. I’ll stop. I didn’t realise….“ you stumbled over your words and Joel stepped closer, making your breath hitch as you tilted your head up to look at him. 

„Please. As an apology. Lemme mow your lawn,“ he said, head tilted as he looked down at you with those big brown eyes and you felt yourself take a step back, almost stumbling over your own feet when he gave you a small smile. 

Joel on the other side flexed his fingers as he walked past you before his hand gripped the handle of the lawnmower, knuckles almost turning white as he inhaled the soft scent of lavender you carried with you. 

„I’ll…. I’ll get you some coffee,“ you mumbled and he raised one eyebrow as he looked at you, already feeling the sweat run down his back from the way the sun was burning down at him. 

„You have coffee?“ He started the lawnmower and you nodded. 

„Might make me less of an asshole once I had one,“ he joked, winking at you and you felt yourself smile while your cheeks flushed. 

„That’s all it takes? A coffee to tame the asshole?“ You teased and his shoulders shook with a huff. 

„I said might. Guess we gonna find out once I had it,“ he said before he turned his head from you and started going in straight lines through your garden. 

And you watched him. Watched him as you walked inside. Watched him as you made the coffee. Watched him as you cut down a piece of the lemon cake you had made the day before. Watched him as he pulled at the front of his shirt to wipe away some sweat from his forehead giving you a nice view of the chest and the little trail of hair leading down towards his groin< you had seen earlier when he yelled down at you. 

You set everything up on the small table on your back porch, thankful that it sat under a tree, giving you some shade. 

Faster than you would ever been he was finished with the whole yard, rolling the lawnmower towards the little shed you had found it in before he walked towards your house and up to your back porch. He was sweating profusely and for some reason you thought about how it would taste when you liked it off of him. 

Shaking your head you smiled thankful at him when he let himself sit down across from you, reaching for the coffee. 

„Fuck, that’s good,“ he moaned after the first sip of coffee and you clenched your thighs at his tone. 

„Good enough to get rid of the asshole?“ You asked with a smirk and he shook his head with a small grin. 

„I’m sorry for yelling. I’d say I’m not usually like that but I’d be lyin’“ he said and you laughed. 

„At least you’re honest,“ you said and he sighed, reaching for the piece of cake, before he almost inhaled it. 

„Fuck, that was delicious,“ he groaned and you smiled. 

„I’m glad. It’s a sorry and a thank you,“ you said and he nodded, before he got up with a groan. 

„Just doing some neighbourly things. Don’t have the best track record with being a people person,“ he shrugged as he walked down your back porch. 

„Still, thank you. You got it done much faster than I would and now you can go back to sleep and I promise I won’t wake you,“ you smiled as you followed him. 

„Much appreciated, darlin’,“ he said. 

You sucked your bottom lip in as you looked after him. 

„Though if you feel the need to yell at me again, do it from your bedroom window again…“ You said and he turned to look at you, frowning.

„I enjoyed the view,“ you winked and it took a couple of seconds before his eyes widened, finally realising he had been completely naked and you most likely got a full view of his junk. 

He gulped, before he hummed. 

„That so?“ He asked and you nodded. 

„I’ll keep that in mind, darlin’“ he winked with a small smirk, before he made his way back to his house where he took a shower and moaned your name as he jerked off thinking about what your body looked like beneath the tight clothes you had been wearing today. 

Before he finally, finally got to bed and slept. 

[lukeynewtssimp]

About Luke’s character getting questioned…

Okay, it seems I am going to be taking on the role of Luke and Nic’s defender this week because people are seriously pissing me off!

I am seeing a lot of people questioning Luke’s character and say that they feel deceived by Nic and everybody who ever said that this man was a kind gentleman who respects women. Why? Because they cannot reconcile this image of him with what they know now which is that he’s had a girlfriend for the past year that he only now was comfortable publicly claiming.

First of all, we have seen her around him for over a year now. He never hid her existence but he did keep his relationship status with her private. We do not know them, for all we know, their relationship could have been casual up until recent months and he only now felt comfortable being public with her. It is not up to you to tell somebody that you don’t even know when they should feel ready to come out and publicly claim their relationships. Especially not after he went through a very public breakup with his ex-girlfriend, he may have felt now that he needed to really make sure the relationship is solid before making it public and official.

Second of all, you do not have any idea how the hate and scrutiny they both faced during the summer has affected their relationship and maybe they needed to protect that for a while and work through it before they were both ready to make it public. It was very clear in that video of them arriving to the event last night that they were both nervous, especially Antonia, she straight up looked terrified and who can blame her after all the hate she received?

Third of all, Nic also was with Jake in some capacity since May or even April and only made it public in recent months. Neither her or Luke deserve any hate for protecting their relationships until they felt ready for the public.

[romancefranaticstay]

-`♡´-Light Side-`♡´-

Han Jisung Captain Falcon x Y/N Princess of Alderaan

STARWARS AU

(i first want to apologies for not posting in a while. It may sound stupid, but i forgot my password because. i have a new laptop and i had to login again, but i am here back again.)

-`♡´-₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ.₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ.₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ.₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ.₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ.₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ.₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧

-`♡´-₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ.₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ.₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ.₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ.₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ.₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ.₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧

In a galaxy far far away....

Han Jisung , a Captain of the Millennium Falcon, who has a pretty arrogant humoristic side and also a mate Chewbacca. A legendary duo. You were the princess of Alderaan....

and what are the chances that a charismatic , good-looking captain and a serious, gorgeous princess would fall together?

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You and Han weren't that close, even tho he rescued you out of the death star. You saw him as an arrogant smugler who just wants your money.

"Could you stop pissing me off for once?" you said as you were walking through the halls of the Millenium Falcon. Han had been following you around to keep an eye on you.

"I have to protect you, making sure you don't get kidnapped again, princess."

"I can handle this situation better off without you." you pushed him aside.

"Woah woah woah, don't push me away like that." "You never learned your manners "Highness""

You ignored him and went straight to the cockpit, where was a place to sit down and finally relax for a bit. He leaned against the doorframe as he saw you sitting down.

"Annoying brat" he thought in his head.

He sat on the controlers seat. The tension was big in the room. You both looked straight ahead without saying a single word.

"You could try to act nice for once." he grumbled.

"Excuse me? I am trying my very best to be nice."

"Well you could try a little harder, wouldn't hurt anybody."

"Could you stop rambling on, every single moment!"

"Me? Rambling on?-"

You two were throwing words at eachother. Han wasn't focusing anymore at what was ahead of the ship. You both were standing up from your seats because of how furious you both were.

Suddenly there was a *bonk*, which made you both lose balance. As you fell backwards , back in your seat, he fell forwards towards you. He quickly putted his hand behind your head. His other hand was placed against the seat to avoid crushing you. The ship was flying into asteroids, the alarm went off.

Han and you kept staring into eachothers eyes, the alarm as a kind of background music. When the door opened you pushed him quickly off you. Members of the crew came inside the cockpit.

"Captain, the mechanisme of the ship has been taking a turn down."

He looked at you before groaning, focusing his attention back to the others.

"You, got get Chewbacca, you go check everybody's safety." the members stormed off. He than pointed at you "you, listen to me for once in your lifetime."

You looked up at him. "You will stay here, on the particular seat. I need to have you in my sight understood?"

You narrowed your eyes at him. "I do not find your undertone very welcoming."

He clenched his jaw and leaned down. Placing his hand on the back of your seat.

"It isn't supposed to be welcoming....princess." he said through gritted teeth. His eyes kept being locked with yours. He was very controling at the moment, but you kinda liked that.

"Okay....sir...." you said back through gritted teeth. He smirked a bit "good"

You sat up and sat, like Han wanted, there. He controled the ship, into the asteroids.

"This doesn't seem like a good idea." you said under your breath.

"Well princess....you don't seem to see everything."

The ship moved fiercly. You had to hold balance a bit, your nails digging into the chair. Han glanced over at you and smiled. He liked the sight.

"Yeah hold on tight...." he said to himself.

Chewbacca entered and started pressing certain buttons. You didn't know what he was doing, but....it seemed to go well. As an asteroid seemed to get very close to the ship, Han shouted:

"Punch it!"

The ship went as fast as the speed of light. You were a bit nervous and accidently gripped into Han's hand. The little things you did, drove Han insane, even tho you had a big mouth from time to time.

You squeezed your eyes shut and breathed heavily. You could feel his thumb caressing your hand, soothing you.

"You can open your eyes...." he whispered, keeping his finger interlocked with yours.

You looked straight ahead and saw you were out of the asteroid field. You sighed and could finally relax. When you finally realised you were holding his hand, you immediatly backed down.

"Hey hey, i thought you liked holding my hand."

"It is not appropiate, you know that very well Han Jisung."

"Well well, never heard you say my full name before."

"Well you better get used to it."

"Oh do i?" he smirked "well you mean you will yell at me a lot....or scream my name a lot....?"

"Why are you asking me the same question?" you tilted your head.

He laughed and tilted his head with the same motion.

"Never knew you were so innocent....hmm well it isn't worth explaining it now....maybe later."

"Well than don't waste my time." you stood up from your seat.

"I will now going to move myself to another location, far away from you....especially you."

You opened the door and walked away, back into the halls of the Millennium Falcon. He sighed and stood up himself. Looking from the doorway how you were making your way.

He must say he found your attitude endearing, maybe a bit too much endearing.

You were tired, exhausted and just wanted to go take a nap somewhere. You went to the Captain's Quarters, where must be a bed to sleep in or atleast a lounge. You didn't know it was the Captain's Quarters and you for surely didn't realise Han slept there.

You opened the door and saw a big very modern technologic bed. Seemed comfortable enough. You did your hair lose and got out of your clothes. Only wearing socks, white shorts and a white blouse.

You did the lights off before nestling yourself in the comfortable bed. You sniffed against the pillows when you smelled something familliar.... it smelled manly....like perfume....

You dozed off in a deep sleep, not knowing Han approached the bed, seeing you lay there. He wrapped his hands around your body to carry you in bridal style.

"This is my bed princess...." he whispered softly. You whimpered as you felt yourself out of the warm blankets. You snuggled into his chest as it was very warm.

He smiled and walked with you in his arm to another room in the Captain's Quarter, where you could relax too. You opened your eyes and finally realised who has been carrying you. You actually didn't mind....but....

"Han? What are you doing?"

"Ahh, your eyes are finally open....well you were sleeping in my bed my Highness."

He brough you to a door and placed you back on your feet.

"Where did you bring me? What is this?"

He opened the door for you " a bed to sleep in obviously."

"Why couldn't i just sleep there? "

He placed his hand against the wall "because i don't think you would have liked....my arms around you...." he leaned closer "....especially around your waist....cuddling...." you looked up at him, your breath hitched a bit.

"Well....you...." you cleared out your throat "you made the right decision...."

"Yeah? Well that must be very mature of me, right?'

"Yeah sure."

"Cmon say it, that was very mature of me."

"Well okay we can concl-" he putted his finger on your lips

"Just say that it was mature...."

"It was....mature....of you."

He was proud he had broke your tought exterior for a bit.

"Well thank you my Highness...." he took your hand and kissed the palm.

"I will keep making you proud."

"Good....very good"

"Goodnight princess."

"Goodnight....Han...."

"I thought you would call me by my full name?"

"Well i thought you wanted me to scream it instead?"

He laughed "So you did know what it meant?"

"Well there is a lot i know"

"Oh really?" he stroked his hand through your hair "would you mind tell me?"

"Well you have to find that out yourself."

You impulsive kissed his cheeked and slammed the door close into his face.

"Well....feisty one."

[curly-fry-3]

hi, I'm the person who asked about earlier. I was thinking about a Dean x fem!reader fic, were reader is like a super badass mercenary, who got into hunting after meeting the Winchester, and is also shy as hell. Thank you! Your first fic on this account and I already love you!!!!!!

𖦹Awkward Confessions𖦹

𖦹summary𖦹 You thought dean hated you till a jerk at the bar helps him realize how he really feels

𖦹pairing𖦹 Dean Winchester x Reader

𖦹word count𖦹 2,020

𖦹notes𖦹 THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THE REQUEST omg I can't believe people actually like my writing I had so much fun writing this one. I wrote like three pages on my doc and I was so in the zone I hadn't realized it had been TWO HOURS anyway I hope this was what you had in mind and you like it<3

Dean didn't like you. It's not like you did anything–well, anything to him– he just didn't trust you. You two had met when he and his brother had saved you from a vengeful spirit. He never thought much of you, he's helped a lot of people in his life and you seemed to be just like the rest. He never expected to run into you again, what shocked him the most is that you were hunting…like hunting monsters. That's why he couldn't trust you. Why would somebody who got tortured by a supernatural being actively hunt other monsters out (ok hypocrite). Especially you, he remembers you being so shy–reserved and scared–he read you as the type of girl to run, cry, and try to forget. 

 You had to have ulterior motives-technically you did–you were paid to hunt monsters. It was hard work but ohh it paid good. When people are scared for their life, thay will start naming some big numbers. You had run into Dean and Sam a couple times over the years (how could you not) always finishing the job before they could even do any research. You may have annoyed Dean but he could respect the grind–not that he would ever tell you. 

Now he and Sam are speeding down the road, heading to an abandoned farm where–based on their research–a nest of vampires lives. They pulled into the dirt parking lot in front of the barn and pulled out their weapons while going over the plan. Dean went in through the front entrance, passing a familiar car on his way, while Sam circled around back. Dean quietly crept through the barn until he heard the sound of fighting. Assuming it was Sam, He raced through the empty rooms till he came across…you?

Dean stopped and rolled his eyes out of frustration. That's why he recognized the car. Why are you always stealing his jobs? He did all that hard work researching for you to just take all the glory. And how the hell are you taking on a whole nest on your own? You're too good at what you do and it pissed him off.

You finish decapitating the last vampire, its head falling to the ground with a loud thud after spraying you in blood. You only notice Sam and Dean have shown up after catching your breath. “Oh…hi” You look at dean awkwardly “sorry, did I take your hunt”

Dean gives you a deadpan look, “yeah–yeah you kinda did” His jaw clenches in frustration 

You flushed in embarrassment “I didn't know you would be here”

“Whatever” He huffs out like a child 

Sam interjects to ease the tension, “how bout we get these bodies burned and have a couple drinks?”

“I would never say no to some help” you say gratefully

Dean gives sam a pointed look, “As long as your paying”

After cleaning up the bodies and cleaning up themselves (who knew killing monsters was messy) the three of them headed to the bar in their separate cars and met up in the parking lot. Dean was the one forcing her to drive separately saying she would mess up baby's backseat somehow. For how much Dean doesn't like you, he thinks about you a lot more than he should. Maybe that's the real reason you frustrate him, you and your stupid face. The way you flush at anything–how do you kill a vamp like it's nothing but shrink under his gaze–you're an enigma and you're stuck in his head. 

Driving to the bar you couldn't help but think about Dean. why was he always so frustrated with you, you didn't want him to hate you–you wished he liked you (like really liked you) You think about him a lot more than you should, he probably forgets about you the second he drives away, but you cant help yourself. Anyone with eyeballs would understand. He's just so…perfect looking. Sure it's a stupid schoolgirl crush but who cares, he hates you. You always try to be so nice, but he's so intimidating with that stupid face on his face. And the worst part is he's a good guy on top of all his hotness. You try to push all the silly thoughts away as you pull into the dive bar parking lot behind the impala, he doesn't like you at all and you're too shy to say anything. Just get drunk and forget it–maybe find a hookup.

You get out of your car and walk across the dirt lot to greet Sam and Dean. “who wants some beers…on me”

“I would love for you to spend money on me” Dean responds with his signature smile

You flush slightly at his smirk “Well then why don't you find us a booth Mr.” You ask while your group enters the bar “you guys like Del Sol right, I think you told me it was your favorite Dean?”

Sam nods “yeah thanks”

As you head over to order the drinks, Dean slides into the nearest empty booth. How did you remember that's his favorite beer, he didn't even remember telling you. There you were being sweet again, god you're infuriating.

You walk up to the bar and patiently wait for the bartender's attention. Unluckily you caught another man's attention before you could place your order. You could feel him looking at you. When his gaze started to roam your figure you started praying–please god let this man leave me alone, he looks like he doesnt wash his asscrack cause ‘its gay’. And please let this bartender have a break so he notices I'm here waiting. I guess you're not one of god's favorites cause soon enough the man approached you “hey doll, whatcha doin here alone”

You awkwardly reply, avoiding eye contact, very obviously uncomfortable “just trying to order some beer”

“Nice, I like a girl who doesn’t order no fruity drink” he tries to flirt back (is he serious, read the room)

Dean huffs in annoyance “lord, what is taking her so long” how do you just continue to frustrate him? When he looks over and notices you being approached by some guy he's even more frustrated. Who is this tool? What is he doing? Wait–why should Dean care, he shouldn't. He looks over at you to see how you're reacting to this guy and it's not good. You're so obviously uncomfortable. This dude sucks. He quickly gets up and makes his way to the bar to save you. When he approaches the man pays no attention to him and continues to talk your ear off about how amazing he is. ‘Yeah sure talk about yourself, that gets the ladies going’ Dean thinks. He quickly shuts down the one sided conversation when he wraps his arm around your waist, making you blush and freeze up. “Hey sweetheart, you get lost tryna get us some beers” He jokes to make the intrusion natural and gives the man a hard stare, sizing him up.

The man looks at Dean with an intimidated expression “what, you her boyfriend or something?”

“Yeah actually” Dean spits out, unable to hide his distaste for the man

The man started getting defensive and put his hands up in surrender “ hey look dude she didn't say she was taken and she was basically asking for it, going out in that low cut top”

That stopped dean in his tracks “what”

For some reason the man started thinking that Dean would be in his side “yeah, the slut was flirting back and everything”

Deans eyebrows raise in shock and he grits his teeth in anger “I dont know who you think your taking to but it better not be me”

You interject, not wanting to get into a bar fight “ let's just get out of here” You pull dean by the arm and take him to the parking lot

As dean follows your lead he turns back and says to the man “you say some shit like that again and im breaking your nose”

When you and dean make it outside he starts pacing and complaining to you, still riled up from the incident while you stand there awkwardly taking the situation in. Why did Dean say he was your boyfriend? I guess to get the guy to stop–but he could have just said he was a friend. You're overthinking so much that everything Dean is muttering about is going in one ear and out the other until you hear something that short circuits your brain.

“Real men don't do shit like that, I would never do that. That guy doesn't even deserve to look at you–calling you a slut–that's bullshit…” Dean rambled on but that was all you picked out before you started spiraling again. What did he mean by ‘I would never do that’? Does he think about you like that? And why is he so worked up? you know that he's a great guy, he would probably do that for any girl but he's still goin on–omg does dean like you? Omg stop being delusional. Why don't you just ask him, if he doesn't like you then he already hates you so it wouldn't ruin anything. I can't do that, that's so embarrassing. Before you could make up your mind about what to do, Dean's voice cuts through your thoughts again, “are you ok?”

“Do you like me” you blurt out before you could think “omg im sorry I didn't mean to say that”

“Are you asking if I have a crush on you…like were in highschool or something” Dean asks, teasing you

You blush at his words, awkwardly avoiding eye contact, “shut up…im not good with these kinda talks…it's just…you said you wouldn't treat me like that and i'm thinking why are you comparing yourself–or putting yourself in that scenario–if you didnt wanna take me out. Also you're like overly worked up about this” you quickly ramble “and I need you to be serious about this, no teasing, cause i'm not good at confrontation–or whatever you would call this”

A look of realization washes over his face, holy shit–now that he's thinking about it–he does like you. Like, highschool crush pull her pigtails to make her notice you–like you. His expression softens as he responds “sweetheart, i'll admit i've been thinking about you more than I should, I never realized what it was–god i've never been this open before–you're sweet, and badass when you need to be. You get so cute when I make you blush. You remember things about me that I don't remember telling you. You're nice to me no matter how much of a dick I am…maybe I do like you”

You release a breath you didn't know you were holding in, “oh thank god, if you didnt I would have just crawled up into a hole and died”

He lightly chuckles “i'm guessing you like me too”

“Duh einstein” You tease and chuckle in response

He finds himself laughing along with you admiring your smile. When the laughter died down it was just you and Dean staring at each other in anticipation till he closed the gap between you and cupped your cheek. His bright green eyes looked deep into yours “can I–”

You smash your lips onto his before he could finish the question. He quickly reciprocates and you share a sweet passionate kiss, expressing everything you're too shy to say. Dean tilts his head to deepen it until you two hear sams footsteps approaching and quickly pull apart, a trail of spit keeping you connected.

“Fucking finally, you two are so annoying” Sam states, relieved that the tension between you and dean is gone. 

“Shut up” Dean breathes out weakly and pulls you closer to his chest.

Yeah maybe you got covered in vamp blood, got hit on by a creep, and never actually got the beer you came to get but you would still call the day a success as you're standing in the dirt parking lot of a trashy bar, wrapped in dean's arms. Bless that lady for paying you to hunt this nest.

as always sorry of there are any typos

love y'all<333

[qwimblenorrisstan]

Tension | Frank Woods x Reader

Summary: You and Woods have had it out for each other since you joined his team, but tensions reach their breaking point in enemy territory, when it’s just the two of you.

Word Count: ~4.6k

Warnings: this would make the pope cry, implied misogynist, p in v, fingering, oral fem receiving, violence, blood, guns, violent make out sessions, handjob, cutesy kissing, overstimulation, just a lot

Minors, do not interact!

A/N: thank you to britney spears, alex mason, sleep deprivation, and my glorious king lin manuel miranda for this thing I have created❣️first frank woods fic and this thing is filthy wow. it’s been a long time since I’ve written something this long

(also this is woods between bo1 and bo2 before menendez snatched his knees up💔)

Requests are open!

Frank Woods clearly had never met a woman before.

That was the natural conclusion one would come to, after seeing how he interacted with one. Especially a woman in the military who was on active duty, and not just a secretary or some CIA lapdog.

He was rough around the edges, and you didn’t mind that, hell, you were an active-duty Marine. You’d gone through basic training, survived the screaming and orders, and shed a few tears before wiping them and getting back up. But he was only rough around the edges to everyone else, and that made your blood boil.

He didn’t seem to know what to do with you.

“You cut out for this?”

Had been the first sentence he’d said to you after you’d been handpicked to join his team. His expression, an eyebrow raised, something like doubt that you could’ve sworn was in his eyes.

You’d given the look right back, looking him up and down, giving a once over in a more im-sizing-you-up than a taking-you-in kind of way. Maybe you’d had a bit of sass to your tone.

“You think I’m not?”

It had been more of a challenge than a question, a sharp brow cocked at him. The man to his left, an operative named Alex Mason, you’d learn later, had grimaced slightly.

Woods had chuckled, raising his hands in a gesture of mock innocence, before replying.

“No need to get all pissy, hon, just want to make sure you can keep up. This ain’t exactly any normal team—“

Hon. Something like pissed disbelief was on your face as the rest of his words went unheard in your temporary shock before you gave a little huff of mock laughter.

“I’ll keep up just fine, sweetheart.”

You laid the mocking tone on thick with the ‘sweetheart’, walking forward and slamming the paperwork you’d been given into Wood’s chest while walking past him. The little flicker of surprise that went across his face was enough to satisfy you for quite a while.

As you walked away, you heard a sigh from Mason, and Woods mumbling something under his breath.

That had been the beginning of your rivalry with the man, and his every action drove another needle into your skin.

From mission to mission, he repeatedly displayed his complete lack of trust or faith in you. You could understand being skeptical of someone who had just joined your team, but it was getting ridiculous

“Mason, take point.”

It was Mason’s fifth time taking the lead. He hadn’t asked you to even once. Never mind if you enjoyed the view of Woods’ ass when he was in front of you, or the way you could see his muscular thighs moving on some parts when he had to climb over something.

Or when he’d be demeaning.

“Here, I can hold it.”

Your 15-pound weapon. Sure, it was getting heavy, but you didn’t need any help. Not from him, or any man for that matter.

“I can handle it.”

You’d ground out, shooting him a look, trying not to watch how the muscles of his arms flexed slightly as he shifted, the sweat beaded on him, and the few little drops down his forehead. Or how good his tactical vest looked on him.

“Whatever you say, sweets.”

You hated it when he called you that. It felt demeaning, and worse, it sounded hot when the names rolled off his tongue with the little bit of a low rasp that his voice had.

Or worse, when there was a grenade thrown. The first time it had happened, you couldn’t decide between throttling him or jumping his bones right then and there.

“Grenade!”

You’d heard the clatter, and being in an enclosed room, had been decidedly fucked. It had been a few feet away, and when you’d gone to move, you had been jolted forward, a pair of arms wrapping around you, and slammed into the dirt ground on your side.

You’d smelt the cheap cigarette smoke on his breath and the balm he used in his beard, and known it was Frank fucking Woods who’d tackled you.

The explosion had gone off, dust kicking up everywhere and shrapnel flinging itself in every direction but somehow barely nicking either of you.

His hot breath had fanned against your neck, mouth mere inches from your neck. His arms were squeezing tight around your torso, almost to the point of pain, but just not quite. One of his legs was thrown over yours, foot hooking around your ankle and pulling you back into him.

It was an oddly intimate position, and not just because of the fact that he had very likely just saved your life.

It might’ve been his hard-on pressed against your ass.

For a moment, there was just silence and the sound of both of you panting. Adrenaline and something else was running through your veins. You shifted and glanced back at him, taking one look at his heated stare and blown pupils, the way his tongue darted out to lick his too-chapped lips, and knew that things couldn’t go back to normal.

The moment had been interrupted by Mason, walking in and telling you both to wrap it up, only to take a very bewildered double take a moment later as he realized what he’d seen.

“Get off me, bastard.”

“A thank you would be nice.”

“Thanks for not flattening me, fatass.”

After that, the line between professional and something else had blurred, and you didn’t know where either of you were now. Too afraid to cross, unsure if you already had, and not eager to take the first step.

It had escalated from little lingering glances during debriefs, to the smallest brushes of touch between insults, to now, wearing his trademark green slip of fabric as a ponytail holder and not hesitating to flank him alongside Mason.

A rocky, unsteady trust was built, though more out of necessity than want.

You had slowly become his weak spot. Heated touches and looks, wanton gazes, made the entire team tense. The anticipation of waiting for something to finally happen between you two, for someone to take the first step despite the animosity both of you showed.

It had come to a head on a specific mission.

It should’ve been simple, get in, get the information the CIA wanted, and get out. Key word: should’ve.

Not clad in your usual military gear, opting for normal black clothing to keep hidden. If everything went right, you wouldn’t need a bulletproof vest or any gear, anyway.

Everything had gone fine right up until the point where it hadn’t. You had managed to slip past the guards quickly, in the outside base, Frank following, Mason stationed nearby to provide an eye on everything.

“All clear.”

His voice came over the radio.

You turned the corner, moving to a small building where you heard the crackle of a radio, and slowly opened the rickety metal door, scanning for anybody in it.

Clear.

“Moving into a building.”

You’d muttered, holding a small button on the radio clipped to your vest to relay the message to Mason.

“Copy that. Keep quiet.”

Woods snorted at that.

“Great advice.”

He muttered, closing the metal door behind him and twisting the small lock on the handle, standing up from his crouched position and stretching his back with a small groan.

“Like you’re any better.”

You shot him a look, moving to the table with the radio and observing it, fiddling with a few buttons before deciding there wasn’t anything valuable. The rest of the contents of the table, not as useless, not at all.

“Isn’t this what we need?”

You asked in a skeptical tone, looking at a few of the files on the table, all classified information that they’d carelessly left out. Woods had leaned in, just a bit too close to you, and shrugged.

“Fuck if I know. Probably.”

He glanced back at them, then at the stairs to the second floor.

“Gonna head upstairs, see if anything good’s up there.”

His definition of good was an explosive, a gun, or money, so you weren’t exactly confident he’d find anything actually useful for the mission.

You opened the files, skimming over the information inside, missing the subtle click of background noise that you had probably assumed was Woods shuffling around upstairs. A few quiet footsteps, and then something solid was slammed into your head.

Pain blossomed through your body as an adrenaline rush began pumping through your veins, and you grunted at the pain of the blow before turning—more being grabbed, and thrown to the floor before you could even attempt a defense.

Your hands pushed at the enemy soldier above you, kicking and clawing at him, trying to yell only for his gloved hand to smother your mouth.

“Who the fuck are you?”

The hand over your mouth quickly went around your neck, squeezing just tight enough for you to start losing the ability to think straight while running out of oxygen.

“Fuck off—“

You ground out, eyes going over to the stairwell as you saw a blurry figure stalk down them. Just as your vision began turning to black, objects turning to blurry flecks of color as your eyes watered, the man above you was suddenly ripped off as Woods wrestled him to the ground.

You took a desperate gasp of air, lungs burning with it as your throat ached, the pain in your head barely beginning to subside.

Moving to get to your feet, you watched as the man collided to the floor with Frank, your coworker’s fist slamming into the soldier’s face with a strength you hadn’t seen from him in….ever.

The man grabbed his pistol, hand barely gripping it as he used it to pistol whip Woods right in the nose, before you scrambled over and wrestled the gun out of his hand, seeing his finger going for the trigger before you snatched it, and aligned it with his temple before firing.

The grunting and sounds of fighting suddenly died down completely, the mystery soldier going limp, and Woods rolling off of him.

“Jesus,”

He muttered, wiping at his bleeding nose, his knuckles scraped and bloody. Maybe it was the lightheadedness from being choked out, or the adrenaline making your blood rush through your body, but goddamn did he look hot.

He glanced up at you, both of your eyes meeting, and for a split second there was dead silence other than both of your ragged breathing before you lunged and this time, you tackled him to the floor.

Your lips collided with his, body landing right on top of his as your hands went to grab his face, not letting him move an inch other than closer to you. He hummed, almost fucking moaning into it, shoving his tongue right into your mouth with no qualms, only to let out a huff of laughter through his nose when you pushed right back.

He rolled over, trapping you against the concrete floor, not being surprised when your hands shifted right down to his chest and tried pushing him back onto his back.

Your mouths separated long enough for him to gasp in a breath of air before slamming right down into you again, his rough, calloused hands sliding under your shirt, feeling up every inch of your skin until reaching your bra, only to get kneed in the dick by none other than you.

You ended the kiss for the moment, pushing him off of you, watching as he groaned and cradled his crotch.

“Bitch,”

He panted out, no real ire in his tone, a near-feral grin on his face as he watched you get up, knees nearly buckling.

“I’d rather not repeat earlier, dumbass. If you’re gonna fuck me—“

Your sentence was interrupted with a grunt as you grabbed a nearby metal cabinet, and moved to push it in front of the door so you didn’t have anyone interrupting either of you. He watched you struggle for a moment, before getting to his feet, and planting his feet on the ground while shoving the cabinet alongside you.

“—we aren’t getting interrupted.”

You finished once the cabinet was moved, watching as he grabbed it and picked it up with an astounding ease too, shifting it to an angle against the door, wiping the sweat from his forehead.

“Show off.”

You scoffed. He let out a little chuckle at that, turning to you with a raised brow.

“Barricades go at an angle. I’ve told you that before.”

Stupid banter and teasing was all it was. You looked him up and down, eyes lingering on certain areas, before replying.

“I was a bit distracted.”

He was a sight like this. Bloodied knuckles, dried blood on his face, sweaty and clearly on some kind of high from adrenaline, spit smeared on his beard.

“Oh, I’ll show you distracted.”

The hint of a threat made something fire up in your veins as he wrapped a single one of his arms around your waist, lifting and throwing you over his shoulder, ignoring your little “Hey—!”, as he carried you to the desk, his other arm impatiently swiped all of the important documents to the ground as he set you down on the desk.

“I hate you,”

You said, giving him an indignant look before leaning forward and hurriedly resuming the earlier kiss you had abruptly ended, his beard tickling your face as you moved your hands to slip under his shirt, feeling up from the little pudge of his stomach, to the hard muscle of his torso, to his hairy chest, and back down.

He caught on quickly, groaning as he shoved his hands under your shirt in return, rough, calloused hands feeling up every inch of your skin, the fat and muscle of it, up to your bra.

He pulled away just a moment, panting for air, fingers lingering at the edge of your bra. He raised his brows in question.

“Go on,”

“Thought you hated me?”

“Shut up.”

He didn’t need to be told twice, cupping your breasts and squeezing, kneading the fat of them as your breath caught in your throat. Your hands moved to his shirt, pawing at it until catching the end and yanking it upwards. He flashed a cocky grin, pulling his hands out from your shirt, quickly stripping out of his shirt, revealing the thin layer of fat covering his muscular physique.

You practically clawed your shirt off, feeling overheated in it now, anyway, the bra soon to follow.

“Fuuuck,”

He groaned as he saw you, his hands itching to touch you anywhere and everywhere, need building in his gut as he began a slow, heated trail of kisses from your jawline, down your neck and collarbone, taking care to suck and bite on the skin there, leave his mark, all the way down between the valley of your tits, your stomach, until he reached your pants.

A little glance up at you for confirmation, and he was pulling them down with an almost embarrassing desperation, though Frank Woods would never be embarrassed of being desperate for you.

Your underwear was yanked down as he dropped to his knees, the hard impact of the concrete barely registering as he wrapped his hands around your thighs, letting you choose to spread them, and fucking buried his face in your cunt.

“Jesus fucking—Frank!”

Too much too fast, the sensations went from zero to one hundred as he slid his tongue up your folds, took a second to find your clit, and latched onto it, lapping at it like a dog while groaning like a senseless mutt.

Your hips bucked forward as you cried out, muscles constricting and tensing before relaxing as you squirmed beneath him. One hand deserted its post at your thigh and slipped down to your pussy, and he ran his middle and index finger through your slick, before surprisingly gently fingering at your hole, making sure that would fit.

Your hands fisted in his hair but allowed a moment of reprieve as he stopped for just a moment to breathe, nearly gasping for it. His eyes were half-lidded and looked hazy, like he was drunk, high, or both.

“Fuckin’ heaven.”

He muttered, throwing a lazy smile up at you as he leaned forward, licking a lewd stripe up your cunt while maintaining eye contact, slipping both of his fingers in right then. You groaned, eyes squeezing shut as your walls clenched around the sudden intrusion of his fingers, their calluses and thicker-than-normal girth a new experience for you.

“Woods,”

You gasped his name like a prayer when he dove back in, his tongue working you hungrily, like a man starved, disgustingly hot slurping sounds making their way into your ears as his pace with his fingers quickened, slamming in, out, in, out and rubbing against a certain sweet spot in a delicious way that made you dizzy.

Your eyes squeezed shut as you felt everything tense, an orgasm quickly approaching and threatening to overwhelm you completely. You were torn between tugging his face closer and pushing it away as your hips steadily rocked against him, basically grinding against his face at this point.

Either he noticed your tighter grip, the gasps and moans becoming quickly incomprehensible as you babbled pure nonsense, or the muscles in your thighs tensing up just a bit too much to be normal, because he intensified his ministrations, sucking on your clit and flicking his tongue against it, until that cord in your stomach finally snapped and you nearly screamed, only not because his other hand moved to your mouth, shoving a few fingers in, and you began mindlessly sucking on them, moaning around them.

Your vision went blurry and spotted for almost a moment, everything trembling as Woods slowly pulled his fingers out, sucking each off with a little ‘pop’ at the end, and standing back up.

He eased his other fingers out of your mouth, wrapping both arms around you, holding you against his chest as he rubbed your back, cradling your trembling body.

“I know, it’s a whole fuckin’ lot. Did so good for me, pretty girl.”

He murmured, one of his hands going to gently rub at your scalp, idly playing with your hair while waiting for you to come down from your high and resettle. He didn’t want to overwhelm you too much.

A few minutes passed, of him holding you close, muttering sweet nothings into your ear, with a honeyed tone with that delicious rasp and almost growl of his, before you finally came back down to Earth, dazed and horny as fuck.

“You alright?”

He asked, and you groaned.

“Never been better. You gonna show me what you’re packing?”

You gave a pointed glance at the very noticeable tent in his pants, and he laughed breathlessly, his hand going to tug down the thick canvas texture pants he was wearing, kicking them off until they joined the rest of both of your clothes on the floor. His old, ratty boxers that he’d probably had since the Vietnam War were next to go, his cock springing out in all of its ungroomed glory.

Precum was smeared and beaded on the tip, probably why there was a wet spot on his boxers. It was hairy, much like the rest of Frank, not that you really gave a shit. A good 5 inches, pretty damn thick too.

Jesus Christ.

“Enjoying the view?”

He asked with a cocky, knowing smirk, as you’d been having a staring contest with his dick. You rolled your eyes, reaching down and wrapping your fingers around his cock, watching as it twitched a bit in your hand, examining the way Woods’ expression shifted into pleasure when you squeezed just a bit, and teasingly just barely rubbed the tip.

“I think I’ll like the feel more.”

You said, listening to the low moan that slipped out from his lips, the steady rocking of his hips against your hand as it seemed to throb in your hands, having a pulse of its own.

“Oh, god—“

Woods wasn’t a religious man by any means, but he figured that he was being blessed by some god out there if he was experiencing this right now.

His breathing grew a bit heavier as his brows furrowed, thighs clenching and his knees threatening to give out from under him. God, he was so fucking close—and—

You stopped.

Completely took your hand off, and when he fully opened his eyes, you were looking at him with a smug little smirk that both made him want to strangle you and also made his dick stand prouder than ever.

“You just love torturing me—don’t you?”

He asked, trying to regulate his breathing as he wrapped a hand around himself, giving a few little pumps, and moving forward, rubbing his cock through your folds a few times to lubricate himself, before aligning with your entrance.

You spread your legs, wrapping them around his torso and squeezing to pull him in closer, trap him in, your hands going to hold him close as they wrapped around his upper back, nails threateningly close to scratching him.

“It’s hardly torture,”

You said in an amused tone, squeezing just a bit tighter as his hand went to rub at the fat of your hip.

“Relax, mama, don’t wanna hurt you.”

He muttered, moving torturously slowly as he pushed his bulbous tip in, finally getting it all the way in as he let you have a little moment to adjust as you clenched around him. His thumb went to go rub at your clit, small, slow circles around and around it, trying to get you to relax.

He succeeded, as the stimulation went right to your head, lips parting as you lowly moaned, leaning forward and leaning your head on his shoulders.

“Yeah, feels good, right? You like that, baby?”

He cooed in your ear, using your state to slip just a little bit more slowly in, and letting out a shaky breath as your body clenched around him, sucking him further into the sticky, wet, warmth of you.

He began rocking his hips slowly out, then right back in, until eventually he could slide nearly all the way in. Finally, after what felt like hours, he bottomed out and let out a shuddering breath that almost sounded like a whine.

“So fuckin’ tight, gonna squeeze my dick right off, baby—“

He mumbled, letting his finger on your clit speed up just a little bit while beginning with slow, languid thrusts while he groaned right into your ear, slowly speeding up until his arm was holding you tightly to him purely so you didn’t move around too much or get friction burns.

The initial stretch hadn’t been terrible, but now, with his pace picking up until he was pounding into you like a rabbit, rubbing right up against every little sweet spot buried in you that you hadn’t even known you’d had.

Your puffy cliff was practically being rubbed raw, overstimulation building as your mind tried processing and failed, too overwhelmed in a good way as you couldn’t think of a single fucking thing.

“Frank—“

His name, you could cry out that much. Your nails dug into the tanned and freckled skin of his back, scratching long red marks up and down, something he’d definitely feel later.

“Yeah? What is it, baby?”

You were jolted back and forth due to the impact of his hips and yours. The whines increasing in pitch and the moans were about the only thing you could get out between hiccups, your back arching in ecstasy, hips jerking forward in an attempt to push him deeper.

“‘S too much,”

You whined, and he gave a little shake of his head.

“No, you can take it, doing so well. Being so nice and pretty, jus’ needed a little bit of dick, didn’t you?”

He mumbled, pushing forward in a particularly hard thrust and watching the little bulge that appeared for a second, and leaning forward to press a hot kiss to your lips, not caring for a mess he made.

His thumb picked up the pace, rubbing faster and faster, while he continued to hammer into you, and the pleasure quickly became overwhelming, a few tears pricking at your eyes as you couldn’t do anything but cry out his name, moan, and take it. He was clearly getting close to a climax as well, judging by how his eyes squeezed shut, thighs clenching desperately.

“Jesus, fuck, oh my god,”

He rasped out, his head tilting back slightly as his rhythm slipped for a moment, desperately rutting into you like an animal. All the pleasure came to a singular point, and your orgasm crashed over you, unbearable and making something under your skin claw at you for freedom.

Your legs spasmed as you clenched around his dick like a vice, and he let out a little yelp, his eyes nearly rolling back in his head as he came on sight, stuffing you full of his cum while desperately shoving it deeper with his hips, groaning like a whore.

Your entire body felt weak and drained, limp as a fucking noodle, your vision still not completely back to normal after the intense aftershocks of your climax. Your heart was pounding, hips bucking at every little crumb of stimulation now.

Frank was breathing hard, leaning against the table, before regaining mental consciousness and slowly pulling out, cringing at how sensitive he was.

“You okay?”

A glint of worry underlied his assessing gaze as he looked you over, this time not a hint of lust, checking for any injuries to see if he accidentally had hurt you.

You felt like you’d just run a marathon. But taking a look at the documents on the floor, you remembered that you both still had a job to do, and an important one, too.

“Fine. Just..tired.”

Taking one look at you, he picked your clothes up off the ground and set them on the table.

The chill of the air nipped at your skin, though he didn’t seem as bothered by it, slowly helping your limp legs back into underwear, trying not to watch his own spend drip out of you, then pants.

He slipped your bra on, shirt soon to follow, eyes momentarily drifting to the various bruises and little indentations of teeth marks he’d left, before grabbing his own clothes and beginning to put them back on. A few minutes and he was clothed, before the both of you began picking the documents up, at this point just assuming they were the right ones and wanting to leave.

You realized quite a lot too late that the way it had landed on the floor, the button to relay a message had been pressed down the entire time.

Meaning Mason had overheard the entire thing.

You and Woods exchanged a look, before he started poorly suppressing a laugh. You sighed, pressing the button down.

“We’re finished in here. Got the information, we’ll be heading out now.”

Mason’s voice came back over after a minute.

“I’m well aware that you both finished. You’re clear, no traffic.”

Woods’ poorly restrained laugh became a poorly muffled laugh at that.

It was safe to say that once all of you got to exfil, simply a discreet van, it was a long ride home. Mason stared at the ground the entire time, while you took a nap on Woods’ shoulder, and Frank seemed awfully proud of himself, talking about anything that came to mind before passing out on Mason’s shoulder in the final stretch of the car ride.

At least you wouldn’t be alone in your barracks anymore.

[jtl-fics]

Fluent Freshman - Part 19

PREVIOUS

There’s a couple things about FF that might be good to know at this point.

1. There are few things in the world he hates doing more than asking for clarification or admitting he doesn’t understand / know something. The thought of going up to someone and admitting that he hasn’t perfectly comprehended the situation upon the first explanation is something makes his stomach twist like he’d just eaten Mango-Habanero ice cream.

He has figured out his own math theorems in the pursuit of not having to ask the math teacher to explain he doesn’t understand. He got lost in an Ikea once for over 6 grueling hours where he considered making a home there and living among the display rooms until his grandma grabbed him by the ear and dragged him to safety (the food court) and let him regain his strength (eat Swedish meatballs). He, to this day, is not sure about one of his foreign language friend’s names (how embarrassing he just keeps waiting for someone else to say it but they go by some insane nickname).

So he has become a master of piecing shit together on his own. He sometimes gets it wrong (Andrew, god how embarrassing) but for the most part 8 times out of 10 he can get to the right answer if he just has a couple pieces to work with. No one had ever actually explained to him how Exy works and he was too embarrassed to ask after the third week of practice in middle school so he just pieced together what he was and was not allowed to do through the art of trial and error. He’s even mostly pieced out the rules for the other positions.

So with the information he has gotten through people being bound and determined to talk in foreign languages in front of him he has an idea about the tenuous situation some of the older Foxes find themselves in.

He’s heard Kevin Day and Jean Moreau talk in French.

He’s heard that the anxiety in both of their voices as they talked about their futures and owing 80% of their salaries to the ‘Moriyamas’ and how nervous they were about getting on professional teams or else they’d be killed.

Captain Neil and Andrew are not always using Russian to talk dirty.

He’s heard Andrew soothe Captain Neil’s worries about playing for a professional team. He’s heard Captain Neil mention that at least ‘Ichirou’ would likely just kill him and not make a game out of it like his father did.

Organized Crime might have more to do with Exy than FF had originally thought.

(He had thought it. Plenty of times he had thought it but his Gran had warned him that he was overthinking things. That he wasn’t playing a sport invented by the Mafia. That he had caffeinated coffee instead of decaf. “It’s going to be okay sweetie. Just take a deep breath.”)

This leads into the second thing you should know at this point.

2.  Before he had signed with Wymack he had known the broad strokes of Captain Neil’s life. There had been a lot of news articles about it and Gran (bless her) loved trashy gossip magazines.

After he had signed with the Foxes he had done a bit of a deep dive on as many of their controversies as he could find. There’d been things from brawls on the court (worrying), player overdoses (concerning), a straight up MURDER (Oh god), and the very public breaking of the King of Exy’s arm resulting in his suicide (Warranted, that wacko was going to take off Captain Neil’s HEAD.)

But the thing that had made him actually a little bit, dare he admit, excited to go to Palmetto was the fact that Captain Neil was there.

For someone who froze for almost a decade, who just took it and didn’t have the balls to even react? Neil Josten is an inspiration.

This is someone who got away, who lived a life completely unlike FF’s, someone who knew how to run and more impressively someone who learned how to FIGHT. Captain Neil was being hunted but he still ripped people to shreds in interviews. Captain Neil was probably more scared of the Butcher than FF had been of anything in his entire life but Captain Neil was way braver than FF could ever hope to be.

Captain Neil was taken and tortured but he still fought. FF had seen the scars and Captain Neil is right to wear them proudly (though based on some conversations he has unfortunately overheard he is sure Andrew may have a role in Neil’s positive feelings about them).

FF had thought that he was being lead to his death down in a basement of a club (Don’t cringe. Don’t cringe. Don’t cringe. Don’t-) and he just trailed right behind the two of them without even an illusion of a fight.

Neil Abram Josten was a bit of a personal hero.

He’s proud to call him Captain Neil. He wishes Andrew hadn’t been there when Greg had mentioned wanting autographs because FF wants an autograph from Captain Neil but now Andrew has probably mentioned it to Neil.

Long story short, FF had looked into a lot of details on Captain Neil’s case.

Including two of the Butcher’s top men who were still on the loose.

Romero Malcolm and Jackson Plank.

He keeps his presence low but no matter how many times he blinks the man grumbling in Italian next to him continues to be Romero Malcolm.

Moreover Romero Malcolm continues to grumble about the fact that he is having a hard time finding ‘Nathaniel’ and that he’ll have to grab one of ‘The Wesninski brat’s friends’ to draw him out.

FF is a recently confirmed friend of Captain Neil.

FF who is standing next to this man, with his dick out, and trying to remain as invisible as possible.

After two shakes (Yes he was watching but only because he had to! He wonders briefly if he goes to the FBI if they would accept a description of Romero Malcolm’s penis for the wanted poster? Probably not but it is BURNED into his retinas.)

He watches as Romero tucks, zips, and then bypasses the sink entirely.

FF shivers at how unhygienic that is. Who RAISED him?

The door shuts and FF needs to get out of here ASAP but his hands are shaking with the sudden adrenaline of ’One of the FBI’s Most Wanted just took a piss next to me and is looking for me friend’. He pulls his phone from his pocket and ducks into one of the stalls. Even if there’s no door it’ll at least FEEL a little safer, a little more private. He needs to warn Neil, Warn Andrew, and warn-

The door to the bathroom SLAMS open and music blares in (palms are sweaty, knees weak, arms are heavy-) and his phone slips out of his hands and into the toilet. There are footsteps coming towards him and FF digs deep.

He’s in ultra stealth mode. He is the wall behind the wallpaper. Mantis shrimp can only dream of the color he becomes, the United States military have the CIA on the look out for him because he’s fallen off all conventional forms of radar and tracking.

He is a bargain fruit platter on a dessert table at a kid’s birthday party.

He is ULTRA stealth.

Romero’s gaze glides over him.

Then the man leaves (STILL DID NOT WASH HIS HANDS).

His heart is hammering in his chest but he manages to reach down and grab his phone. Well, Coach Wymack had gotten the extended warranty at least. (“Do you know what these fuckers do to phones? Josten crushed his last year in a fight with the Baseball team captain.”)

His phone’s extended dip into the toilet water had not done it any favors in working properly.

Well fuck.

He wipes his phone down the best he can. He wipes his phone down with some toilet paper before cramming it into his pocket (Sorry Nicky, he’ll wash the toilet water pants if they survive).

He sees a flyer on the wall of the bathroom and starts to think of a plan.

He rushes out of the bathroom (he still washes his hands because he will not have something in common with a man on the FBI’s most wanted list and he just dipped his hand into a CLUB TOILET) and clocks Nicky’s wild arm movements and WORSE clocks Romero just 10 clubbers away.

He sees Romero’s eyes lock onto Nicky and a smile that terrifies him.

He’s out of Ultra Stealth Mode even if every atom in his body wants to run.

He is so stressed and panicked that he has gone beyond his body’s ability to process that so all that is left is determination. He’s got a head full of a half-baked plan, a hand going to his pocket, a second hand on the only ‘weapon’ he has on him, and a stomach full of acid.

He’s pulling his phone out of his pocket before he can really let himself think about it and walking up next to where Romero is standing. He holds his toilet water phone up to his ear and does the one weird social anxiety thing that he had never done before.

He pretends to be on a phone call.

“Hey Captain Neil,” he says and in the corner of his eye he can see Romero’s gaze shift from Nicky (surrounded by an adoring public, covered in sweat and therefore difficult to grab - a difficult target) to himself (alone, shorter, and probably looking like he’s about to pass out). “Yeah I think I’m going to take a break outside after I grab quick drink and then a water at the bar.” He says because he has to be the easier target and he has to go to the bar. “Yeah, yeah, okay I’ll mention it to that bartender guy.” He says and pretends to hang up.

He turns and he walks towards the bar and feels his pulse in his throat go to the beat of the music (success is my only motherfucking option, failure’s not).

He only knows about the alley because in the car ride to Sweetie’s Nicky had mentioned that he wouldn’t let FF’s first time be out there. He had been embarrassed but it was the only way he knew to get Romero out of the club and away from where he could hurt Captain Neil or anyone else in the pursuit of that.

He spots the bartender who had gotten the drinks for their table and his mind completely blanks on the name but the bartender sees him and smiles. “Oh you’re Neil and Andrew’s new friend! What can I help you with? I thought you were-“

“Hi, yes I am Captain Neil and Andrew’s friend.” He says a little loudly because he can feel Romero behind him and he does NOT want the man to know anything about where Captain Neil was.

“Captain Neil? Oh wow that’s adorable.” The man gushes. “What can I help you with? I won’t ask for ID for one of their friends.” He winks.

“I’d like to order the uh…” he tries to remember the exact drink name from the flyer, “…the deluxe chocolate martini?” He asks and knows he got it right when the bartender’s expression shifts ever so slightly.

“Oh yeah, how do Andrew and Neil feel about that?” He asks and oh great a coded conversation. It’s nice to actually be having a real one of these for once instead of just perceiving normal conversations to have hidden meanings.

“They don’t know. They probably prefer that I order it instead of Nicky or Aaron.” He lets his eyes dart to the wide where he believes Romero is watching him.

“I don’t know if that’s true.” The bartender says, “Nicky knows how to handle a drink and Aaron’s not a lightweight either.” He adds.

FF struggles to find a coded way to say ‘It’s not that someone’s hitting on me too hard like the flyer mentioned. It’s that there’s a mafia hitman in your club.’

Finally after a moment, “It’s not the usual kind of drink they get.” He tries and the bartender looks confused by the statement, dammit. He struggles to find a different way to say it before the bartender smiles.

“Y’know you’re really cute.” He reaches under the bar top and grabs a piece of paper and a pen. “How about you write down your number for me cutie? We can meet up sometime.” He says. “I’ll get started on that chocolate martini for you.” He says.

HE COULD KISS THIS MAN.

“I’d like that.” He says.

He writes out a quick message on the small note paper.

‘Armed. After Neil. Looked at Nicky. I’m going to the back alley. Phone is dead.’

The bartender comes back and looks at his note. “We’re out of chocolate martini mix, can I get you something-“ He hopes the club lighting obscures how pale the man got, “something else?” He asks and FF can SEE his pulse.

“Can I just get some water then?” He asks.

The bartender nods and pulls up his phone and hopefully is dialing the police and hands FF a water. His hand grabs hold of FF’s “You don’t need to go out into the alley. You could hang in the backroom with me?” He offers.

There really are some kind people in the world.

“I think it’s better if I’m not in here for a bit.” He says back and honestly he needs this kindness and he has a spare bit of courage, “What’s your name by the way? Sorry I missed it.” He says.

The bartender swallows, “It’s Roland.” He says.

“Thanks Roland.” He twists the cap off of the water bottle and takes a sip.

He turns and pretends not to notice how Romero is trying to be inconspicuous pretending to be on his phone.

He makes his way over to the alley door and notices that Romero is tracking his movements but is not following him like he did to the bar.

His heart is pounding and he can’t BELIEVE he’s doing this. He wants to run, wants to hide somewhere, wants to become imperceptible but…but…

He opens the door to the alley as the bass of the remixed song finishes.

(You can do anything you set your mind to, man)

He lets the door slam behind him and he is alone in the alley.

He was not expecting a van to come to a screeching halt in front of the entrance and for a different face to appear climbing out of the car.

Jackson Plank.

FF looks at the ugly smile on the man as he walks towards him with a knife in hand.

Okay now what genius?

MASTERPOST FOR ALL PARTS OF FLUENT FRESHMAN AU

NEXT

5/26/23: EDITED. Can’t believe I forgot to put the Captain in front of Neil’s name on the meme. I’m blaming the accidental early awakening.

Per your requests:

@i-have-three-feelings​ @blep-23​ @dreamerking27​ @andreilsmyreligion​ @belodensetdust​ @rainbowpineapplebottle @yarn-ace​ @iwouldlikesometea @lily-s-world​ @obscureshipsandchips​ @booklover242​ @whataboutmyfries​ @sahturnos​ @pluto-pepsi​ @dreamerthinker​ @passinhosdetartaruga​ @leftunknownheart​ @aro-manita-muscaria @hologramsaredead​ @Chaoticgremlinswishtheycouldbeme @tntwme​ @tayspots @nick-scar​ @crazy-fangirl2524​ @blue-jos10​ @stabbyfoxandrew​ @splishsplashyouropinionistrash​ @sammichly​ @the-broken-pen​ @bitchesdoweknowu​ @very-small-flower​ @ghostlyboiii​ @its-a-paxycab​ @bisexual-genderfluid-fan​ @cheesecookie​ @theoneandonlylostsock​ @foxsoulcourt​ @blueleys @adverbialstarlight​ @elia-nna​ @can-i-just-stay-in-the-corner​ @nikodiangel​ @foxandcrow-inatrenchcoat​ @hallucinatedjosten​ @satanic-foxhole-court​ @vexingcosmos​ @chalilodimun​ @insectsgetcooked​ @angry-kid-with-no-money​ @queer-crows​ @lillyndra​ @themugglemudperson​ @readertodeath​ @apileofpillows​ @mortalsbowbeforeme​ @hellomynameismoo​ @next-level-mess @youreonlylow​ @interstellarfig​ @notprocrastinatingatalltoday​ @percyjacksonfan3​ @queenofcrazy27​ @bsmr261 @ghostlyscares​ @spencellio​ @adinthedarkroom​ @harpymoth​ @sufferingjustalilbit​ @anxietymoss​ @oddgreyhound​ @ohno-myhyperfixation-itsbroken​ @ken22789​ @atiredvampire​ @isoldescorner​ @not--a--pipedream​ @azure-wing​ @bushbees​  @roonilwazlib-main​ @crumplelush​ @foldedaces-paperbirds​ @thesenseinnonsense​ @let-tyrants-fear​ @ketchupfriesandallthingsnice​ @legowerewolf​ @deadlydodos​ @but-we-respect-his-craft​ @cariniqe​ @zanypersonapricotbiscuit​

The requests to be added to the tag list keep being spread out across a few different areas. If I missed you please just ask again in the replies I promise I just missed you.

As stated before if you’re up here and I spelled it  right but you didn’t  get a notification there might be something  switched around in  your settings that won’t let me tag you properly?

Lillyndra it worked this time!!!

[a-drama-addict]

Harding: So why’d you become a Grey Warden Davrin?

Davrin: I wanted to feel like I had purpose, Wardens gave me that :)

Harding: Alright! What about you Rook?

Therése, who murdered her father, committed arson and then killed her father’s wife: Oh you know. It was just another Tuesday.

[stop-breaking-my-heart-telltale]

if dorian didn't show up, do you think louis would have shot minnie?

I do. I know some people think either he wouldn't have or he would've missed so that's why the writers had him shoot Dorian instead, but mmmmmm no, I don't personally think so. I like to think that if he had taken the shot, his shaky hands would've caused him to shoot her fatally.

Mostly because I'm already so normal about the fact that of the Ericson crew, Marlon and Louis are the only ones with a body count. Well, that we know of, but shown to us in the game, at least. Plus, we know it's Louis' first kill.

Like yeah, Clementine and AJ become part of the crew and they have bigger body counts, and if we're counting indirect kills caused by actions, then Tenn has a count... and I guess everyone has blood on their hands for blowing up the boat... but I'm talking about killed directly with a weapon like....... I lied, I'm not normal about that at all, Louis and Marlon are the ones who have killed someone in Louis' route. I'm also not normal about the fact that Louis kills Dorian and then even as he's clearly in shock, he tries to go with Clementine to get AJ, and then later on when they talk about it, he says it feels like bile but not quite and he's glad he has it in him to do it.... listen, listen, listen... I'm obsessed with that.

Anyway, so if Louis shot Minerva, I think he would've accidentally killed her and can you imagine? He's already enough of a mess after killing the woman who pinned him down and tried to cut his finger off [or succeeded] but he knew Minerva, they were friends before the twins were taken. Even Violet couldn't kill her even though that would've been the smarter thing to do, and we know thanks to meta knowledge that killing her would've saved lives, but Violet couldn't, and I don't think Louis would intentionally either.

Speaking of Violet, if Louis killed Minerva, I hate to think about what that would've done to Vi. I think she might've actually left at that point, like what was planned before it got changed to her being burned. I don't think she would've attacked Louis over it, though, like yeah she attacked Clementine in the cell but Louis? I don't know, but I don't think so just because it's Louis and he'd be a mess about it anyway.

Though if he did kill her, it would be a neat parallel to draw... y'know, because Louis forgave AJ for killing Marlon even though he was pissed and heartbroken, and Violet was annoyed with him the entire time... but could she ever forgive Louis for killing Minerva? Y'know? We already have a similar parallel with AJ shooting Tenn, but still.

If Clementine killed Minerva in that moment, though, then I could see Violet attacking her since in her eyes, Clem proved her right.

So yeah, I get why they added the Dorian kill to his route. It adds another compelling element to Louis as a character, but we also need Minerva alive for episode 4; Louis can't kill her, he can't miss, and he's not going to stay with her because we need Violet to stay on the boat and him to be on shore for all routes.

[supersecretnerd]

Ok so these designs are cute as hell, the Internet is just mean

I have too many thoughts about a game I still need to watch

[esterigermaine]

Sometimes I wonder about the limits of vampire spawn healing and then I remember Cazador and get really sad for all of his spawn.

[yumenotambourin]

What

[milo-is-rambling]

If my dog barks one more time I am going to fight him

[quietwingsinthesky]

prompt: lucifer and jack, flying

Lucifer-Jack times 🥺

The fact that Jack doesn't know how to fly makes Lucifer angry. (He gets angry about a lot of things that have happened to Jack. That's… new.)

"Not at you," Lucifer tells him, and Jack can feel the guilt radiating off of him. "It isn't your fault. Do you want to learn how to fly?"

That's how they end up thousands of feet in the air, Jack's heart beating faster than ever. He can't be hurt, but he can barely see the ground and-

"Woah, champ"—Lucifer's wings are big enough to engulf Jack with every flap—“I won't let you fall."

[b0mblover]

Hate, in Every Sense of the Word.

By: J

major tws for; suicide mention, domestic abuse, abuse, sexual assult mention, murder mention, (really just alot of violence tbh) self harm mention

uh, sorry? that theres so many tws, ig also minor tw for mention of sex too.

uh haha i uh, can you tell what happened tonight? it wasnt even the worst one, just, im tired of it.

talk abt living out of spite bc mannnn, thats all i been going off of for a good while now!

i uh, i really wanna make a certain food bc um. (LOOK I WANNA MAKW A LESS OILY FUCKER OKAY) but my father is awake meaning my mother will be too soon but im scared to even go out of my room bc theyre prob gonna fighttt.

hhhrbd okok ill shut up for now, go ahead and read the angry jirou bullshit ig 😭

(oh yea, if it wasn’t obvious. im talking about my mother in this.)

——————————

yknow,

you havent been a great person

or a good one even.

yet you still question as to why i dont love you

or like you,

maybe you have an idea of how much i hate you.

maybe not

i dont really care about your feelings.

at all.

not now.

i put up with this for fucking 14 years.

my entire fucking life.

ive put up with your shit.

but now?

now im done.

you have no idea how badly you fucked up.

when he said that “im sorry im a fuck up” 

yknow.

he mightve not been right for what he did.

but,

it was just a mistake.

it was a goddamn mistake.

you have any idea how many times ive uttered those words too?

how many times ive repeated them?

how many times i fucking meant it?

just because you “had it bad” doesnt mean shit to me.

you have no goddamn right to treat others the same way.

dont give me that “i dont know how else to act!”

bullshit.

bullshit you dont.

you treated your damn boyfriend just fine!

you had a goddamn kid

you had two goddamn children.

with this man that you fucking DESPISE.

you knew it back then too.

you told me you did.

you fucking told me.

almost nothing can compare to the anger i feel to you right now.

nothing.

you have no right to act like that.

no.

you have no goddamn right to hit another fucking living being.

for such a simple mistake.

i dont care if he talked about it since friday.

i dont give a fuck if he talked about it for months.

you.

you as a goddamn human.

have no right.

none.

in the slighest.

to hit another living being.

for talking about something in your eyes “too much”

or making a mistake.

youre a hypocrite.

need i remind you?

you said that after you broke up with the man you were having an affair with.

that youd be a better person.

stop the fights.

stop the beatings.

stop all of it.

and everything would be okay!

.

i didn’t believe you for a goddamn millisecond.

youre a liar.

just how you said i was.

you didnt quit.

you didnt stop.

hell two months after you hit him again!

you threatened to kill him and yourself!

cmon.

dont you get it yet?

i fucking despise you.

maybe to a degree i feel shocked.

but.

i really dont think thats it.

youre the root of my problems.

every single last fucking one.

——————

need i remind you as how i had to learn to cook, because you were too busy with your damn boyfriend to help me?

.

need i remind you how when i tried to show you that i was fucking cutting myself when i was 9 you only talked about how it looked ugly?

.

need i remind you about how many times you said that you didnt care if i hurt myself as long as no one can see it?

.

need i remind you about how you ignored the rope burn on my neck god knows how many times?

.

need i remind you how you denied fucking multiple peoples sexual assault because “it couldntve been like that”?

.

need i remind you of how many times i almost had to be hospitalized because of your neglect?

.

need i remind you of how many nights i spent alone, in the cold, in the dead of winter, just because you wanted to fuck your boyfriend?

.

need i remind you of what you yelled at me so many times?

.

need i remind you of what i seen?

.

need i remind you of how many times you blamed your abusive behaviors on medication?

.

need i fucking remind you of my entire purpose?

.

i dont care about your feelings anymore.

i gave up years ago.

but now.

i dont feel just numb for you.

i hate you.

in every sense of the word.

.

i dont care of what you or anyone else thinks of me.

.

i dont care about what you think of my appearance.

.

i dont care if you think im too thin or fat or whatever word youll use next.

.

i dont care about what you think because you’ll hate me no matter what.

.

you thought id stop being xxxx when you broke up with him.

you yelled at me.

no.

you fucking screamed at me for weeks.

im tired of even putting in the slighest effort of acting as if i fucking care.

i dont give a fuck about you.

and yknow?

if.

no.

if it would work.

if it was possible.

id fucking kill you.

id stab you.

right here.

right now.

to end my suffering.

to end his suffering.

all of it.

id end it all.

i dont care if its wrong.

because i know no one else knows about whats going on.

yknow.

only one person around here knows what youve done to him and me.

and i havent even met her in person.

yknow.

the people i used to be close with from school.

only just learned you had an affair.

i know that.

the police are do-less.

since you know them.

and hes a man.

not a woman.

it wouldnt be taken seriously.

that he should just fight back.

yknow.

youve ruined what life he has left.

his parents beat him.

his ex wife beat him, and cheated on him.

and here.

youve done the exact same thing.

yknow.

he’ll never get to see how love truely is.

because of you.

because of what youve done.

i cant say i really like him either.

but.

that doesnt give you the right to ruin his life.

.

yknow whats worse?

how i know the only reason that so far youve never dared to lay a finger on me.

is because ive proved that i won’t hesitate to beat the fuck out of you right back.

i know i joke about that night.

but.

really.

hitting you for doing that was the best decision i couldve made.

its kept me safer than i wouldve been for years. 

and even now.

if you were to as so much to touch me.

while in a fight.

id do it all over again.

you maybe 100 pounds heavier than me.

but you dont know how to fight against someone who wont just sit there and take it.

i wont forgive you for what youve done.

even if he will.

.

i want nothing to do with you.

get out of my life for good.

[deathbxnny]

Arcane characters saying things they'll regret during an argument with you. | Vi, Caitlyn, Jinx, Ekko, Sevika x Gn!Reader

(Part two)

Because if I can't be happy, then neither can you./j✨️

Content: Alcoholism, spoilers for season 2, heavy angst, toxic behavior, cursing, established romantic relationships, potential mentions of cheating, gaslighting/ manipulation, probably ooc idk, sfw

Reader has no set pronouns.

((Not proofread))

》VI

You hated the cycle she had trapped herself in. It was never-ending and beyond self-destructive. For a while, you tried to get her out of it by attempting to reason with her, show her the light, tell her that everything is going to be okay and to just stop with the senseless fighting. But then the heavy, out of control drinking began, and she became unrecognizable to you.

She barely spent time with you, and when she did, then it was due to an extreme hangover that you had to nurture her through before the next fight began. You were so sick of it. You couldn't take the state she was in anymore. You wanted your girlfriend back but didn't want to suffer anymore as a result of it. And so, you tried one last time to snap her out of it.

"Hey, uhm... can we talk?" You ask nervously whilst peering at her from the doorway into her room. The roaring of the crowd and indistinguishable words of the announcers buzzed over your heads, reminding you of the timelimit you had to do this right. Vi didn't turn to you and instead focused on smearing the black paint over her eyes, a dark gaze glance cast your way at your meek plea. "Make it quick. I got 10 minutes before I have to be out there again."

You took a deep breath and tried to ignore the coldness in her tone. It was so odd, so not like her. "Vi... I... I need you to stop this. I understand your pain. I really do, I... get it. But this isn't right. You're practically killing yourself here, and I can't take that anymore-" "-This topic again? I told you to fucking drop it already." She hissed with a shake of your head and something about that made you finally snap. "I care about you Vi! That's why I'm doing all of this shit for you. No one else would do as much as I did. Why can't you see that? What the hell happened to you-" Your voice was cut off by her hand slamming into a nearby wall, anger written all over her face that made you flinch away instinctively.

You had never been scared of her before and this just broke your heart further.

"Shut up! You haven't done shit for me, except for pissing me off and whining and crying about every little thing I do! How about you fuck off and leave me the hell alone instead!? The only person who ever did shit for me is Cait and look how that turned out!" Silence. Deafening silence. Except for Vi's heavy breathing. You were rendered speechless. All the years you've spent with her at her side even as children flashed through your mind, before it all stilled and went cold. Your gaze hardened, and you nodded slowly, turning away wordlessly to do as she asked. You understood now. You were always the second choice in the end.

Vi seemed to only notice that you've left once she heard her name being called from the ring above. And her heart sunk at the realisation that this time, you wouldn't be there to watch her win.

And so she didn't.

》CAITLYN

Zaun was becoming a sensitive and dangerous topic to bring up around her. Even the slightest mention of it made her face harden and earn you a dismissive hand waving all of your protests away. It also didn't help that she was pulling away from you and instead getting closer to a certain red-headed officer of hers. It was frustrating and so exhausting to deal with, on top of all the grief that hung over your heads constantly. It was driving you mad. Nothing you said got through to her.

It wasn't a secret that you disapproved of the war and the alliance with Ambessa. You could look right through her, see with a clear mind that she was up to no good. Whatever she had planned wouldn't bring either nation anything but more plight. This wasn't the right way to go about things. It wasn't humane. The people she hated were no different from you both. But she just couldn't see it the same way, her judgment clouded heavily by her need for revenge on Jinx. A singular person had shifted her perception about a whole group of people... and it was becoming suffocating. You couldn't recognize her anymore.

You were trying to find the right time to finally confront her about it fully, and thankfully, the opportunity came up one evening whilst she was going through paperwork in her office. You were pacing nervously around the room, trying to find the courage to speak your mind, but she beat you to it. "If you have something to say, then say it. I have work to do and can not be disturbed like this." She muttered, eyes focused on the sea of papers before her rather than your stilling form. Very well, she asked for it. "I... want this war to end. This isn't right."

Her hand froze before she hummed and resumed her task. "I thought we had moved on from this topic." She said calmly, not betraying how clearly irritated she was becoming. But you couldn't give up now. You'd go crazy if you did. "Caitlyn. There is no moving on from it if people are going to die as a consequence! How could you ever look away from that? Why can't you see that this is wrong? Why can't you see that Ambessa-" You stepped towards her grand desk with every word, hands coming down to push the paper she was holding away from her face. You just wanted her to finally look at you again after so long. "-Is playing with your mind!" "Enough. Don't you dare say another word."

The Kirammann stood up and towered over you, a strong hand grabbing onto your arm with a sharp shake that surprised you. Had the grief taken over her mind this badly? So much so that she couldn't see how much this was hurting you to lose her? "I demand you see reason and stop sympathizing with those treacherous animals... unless you want me to see you as one of them as well." "You think I'd betray you?" You breathed, and suddenly the realisation that you had lost her for good finally sunk in. You needed to go. Now.

Caitlyn's face sobered up at your question, yet before she could say a thing, her dear officer Nolan stepped in with a report in hand. Seeing the position you two were in, she nervously tilted her head. "Oh, my apologies, am I disturbing you-?" "-Not at all. In fact, I'm the one who's disturbing YOU. My apologies for that." Ripping your arm out of her gloved hand, you pushed past the girl and rushed out of the room.

Your girlfriend watched you disappear down the dark hallway before she straightened up and gave the officer a curt nod to go ahead with her report. But it was hard to listen to a word she was saying when Caitlyn's head was replaying the memory of your teary, heartbroken eyes over and over again.

》JINX

She didn't care about her life anymore. That was clear as day, and unfortunately, your relationship was suffering because of it. You knew that Silco's death had killed her inside, that his absence left her lost and confused. But you were so desperate to keep her together. So much so that you were practically destroying yourself for her well-being. Eventually, this boiled over when she was beginning to pull away from you. You, who had always been there. You, who she always cringed onto and begged to stay with her. You only had eachother now. It was impossible to think about a life without her now.

The unhinged spark in her eye had faded away and was replaced by an empty shell of what it once was. That scared you more than you'd like to admit. "Jinx... what are you thinking of?" You asked her one night whilst you quietly snuk around the dark lanes of your home. She didn't respond at first, and your eyes were focused on the back of her hooded head, wondering if she even heard you. But you know she had, when she came to a sudden stop. "... I... I think we should part ways, sweetheart. This ain't gonna go over well forever." She said in that hauntingly calm voice you've grown to hate. And you'd be lying if you said that you didn't see this coming.

"But why? We've always been together through everything. This isn't any different-" "-But it is! It's over! Jinx is over!" Facing you, you near flinched at her glowing, violet eyes, heart beating against your chest. She would never hurt you. You knew she wouldn't. And yet... you found yourself ever so slightly stepping away. Maybe that's what set her off in hindsight. "You're gonna leave me like everyone else anyway. Might as well beat ya to it-" "-I would never do that! What has gotten into you? You should know better than to think that-" "-You're scared of me, ain't ya?" You pressed your lips together when you realised that her mental state had gotten much worse than you expected.

She was losing it.

"In fact, I bet you're thinking of me the same way Vi does. You'll be so much happier without me. But... actually... what if you're going to backstab me like her one day?" The look on your face must've been horrific enough to sober her scrambled mind then because even she seemed to be unsure of what she's saying. And yes, you knew she wasn't doing well. You knew she was just saying things without thinking them through. But you were sick of it. So tired of it all. She could practically read your mind.

"W-wait, I'm sorry, I didn't mean that, I-" "-Okay... you're right. We truly would be better off going our separate ways." You were stepping away from her quicker now, and then you were running, your view becoming blurry and unintelligible. "WAIT NO, PLEASE DON'T LEAVE ME, I DIDN'T MEAN IT, I-" Jinx screamed after you, her breathing heavy and uneven, but she didn't go after you. She knew she had lost that right the second she opened her mouth.

You disappeared into the lanes, for the first time ever sprinting away from rather than towards her. And like the Jinx she was, she had screwed up another good thing up for herself. Perhaps deservingly this time.

》EKKO

Ekko was extremely busy with his duties lately and practically completely neglecting himself for them. It was very concerning to you and everyone, to say the least. Especially now that a war was practically forming at your front door from Piltover. And you were grateful and thankful for all he did for you. You really were. For that reason alone, you wanted him to take things easy at least sometimes to eat and sleep properly when he can. So, on the request of other members, you went to go looking for him one night before it was time for bed. He was sitting up in the tree, clearly planning to keep watch all night, like he usually did.

But you had come with a mission of your own and refused to leave until he came down to bed with you. "Ekko." You hummed as you finally reached him, a friendly smile on your lips. Balancing a nice basket of baked goods you had made yourself, you stepped towards his form that was beautifully illuminated in the moonlight. Seeing him here made you feel content and relieved since you were barely seeing each other to begin with anymore. Which you have been trying to be understanding about.

"I know what you're here for, and the answer is still no." The young man sighed with a shake of his head and frown. You weren't the first one to come by, that's for sure. "Hey... you know this isn't healthy. We're counting on you to stay strong for us, and you can't be that if you're starving yourself." You say with a slight falter to your smile, yet you tried to keep your tone playful and light. He, on the other hand, did not.

"I already told you that it's a no. Now go to bed and let me work." "But I made you these and-" "-I said, no." He hissed out, and that took you aback. He never raised his voice at you, nor did he ever have an attitude with you either. But the stress was getting to him badly, and so was the lack of sleep. "Why can't you just get that? How many times do I have to say it to get it through your thick skull? The least you could do is go and make yourself somewhat useful by patrolling, instead of wasting your time with this."

Oh, how his words cut you deep. Rationally, you knew that everything was just getting too much for him. But it didn't stop you from feeling hurt anyway, as your lip wobbled, and you slammed the basket on a nearby desk before quickly taking your leave wordlessly. Ekko froze at that and reached out to you, your name on the tip of his tongue, but the guilt stopped him from saying a thing.

"Fuck!" He cursed at himself, as he rubbed the bridge of his nose with a disappointed sigh. He definitely was losing it... and you unfortunately had to unfairly take the brunt of it.

》SEVIKA

"What did I tell you about running off when I tell you to stay put? You could have fucking died out there and then what?" Sevika was angry at you. Not that you could necessarily blame her since you did nearly get killed by an Enforcer earlier. But you had no real choice in this. You swore you didn't mean for this to happen. It was supposed to just be a quick errand run. You wanted to make her something nice for dinner, spoil her a little as a thank you for all the work she was putting into Zaun. Yet you couldn't explain any of this with the way she didn't let you even say a word now from the anger running in her veins. In fact, you had never seen her this enraged before.

"I am sick and tired of you disobeying what I tell you. I can't always be there and save you from everything, you know? I got better things to do and than to babysit you all the time-" "- I'm not asking you to do that either! I'm a grown adult, I can take care of myself!" You yelled back, absolutely angry now yourself at the way she always infantilized you like this. It always the same conversation and argument over and over again. You were so sick of it. You could handle yourself just fine and have proved this before. Yet she was so hellbent on proving you wrong every time, you couldn't take it anymore!

"I'm your partner, Sev. You're supposed to treat me like an equal." "I would, if you weren't so fucking incompetent. If I wasn't there, you would've been dead. Why can't you get that? Should I spell it out for you more? Dumb it down even more?" You hated when she was being like this. It was rare for a reason, and you despised this side of her. The side that was so prideful and egotistical. And you were trying so hard not to stoop to her level. It didn't help that you were a little injured and struggling to stand as is. "I'm not in the mood for this shit, I'm literally bleeding. Can we argue about this later, please? I just wanted to surprise you with something nice for once, and I get that I was wrong, but you don't have to be so mean about it, damn it!"

The tears in your eyes were betraying you, and the embarrassment of that just made you push past her and disappear into your shared bedroom. You'll just deal with the injury yourself. Sevika stared after you in slight surprise, considering it was rare for you to yell back like that and cry at that... but the sight of the flowers and half prepared food on the kitchen counter made the regret finally set in.

Perhaps you were right after all.

[mostlysignssomeportents]

How I got scammed

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/02/05/cyber-dunning-kruger/#swiss-cheese-security

I wuz robbed.

More specifically, I was tricked by a phone-phisher pretending to be from my bank, and he convinced me to hand over my credit-card number, then did $8,000+ worth of fraud with it before I figured out what happened. And then he tried to do it again, a week later!

Here's what happened. Over the Christmas holiday, I traveled to New Orleans. The day we landed, I hit a Chase ATM in the French Quarter for some cash, but the machine declined the transaction. Later in the day, we passed a little credit-union's ATM and I used that one instead (I bank with a one-branch credit union and generally there's no fee to use another CU's ATM).

A couple days later, I got a call from my credit union. It was a weekend, during the holiday, and the guy who called was obviously working for my little CU's after-hours fraud contractor. I'd dealt with these folks before – they service a ton of little credit unions, and generally the call quality isn't great and the staff will often make mistakes like mispronouncing my credit union's name.

That's what happened here – the guy was on a terrible VOIP line and I had to ask him to readjust his mic before I could even understand him. He mispronounced my bank's name and then asked if I'd attempted to spend $1,000 at an Apple Store in NYC that day. No, I said, and groaned inwardly. What a pain in the ass. Obviously, I'd had my ATM card skimmed – either at the Chase ATM (maybe that was why the transaction failed), or at the other credit union's ATM (it had been a very cheap looking system).

I told the guy to block my card and we started going through the tedious business of running through recent transactions, verifying my identity, and so on. It dragged on and on. These were my last hours in New Orleans, and I'd left my family at home and gone out to see some of the pre-Mardi Gras krewe celebrations and get a muffalata, and I could tell that I was going to run out of time before I finished talking to this guy.

"Look," I said, "you've got all my details, you've frozen the card. I gotta go home and meet my family and head to the airport. I'll call you back on the after-hours number once I'm through security, all right?"

He was frustrated, but that was his problem. I hung up, got my sandwich, went to the airport, and we checked in. It was total chaos: an Alaska Air 737 Max had just lost its door-plug in mid-air and every Max in every airline's fleet had been grounded, so the check in was crammed with people trying to rebook. We got through to the gate and I sat down to call the CU's after-hours line. The person on the other end told me that she could only handle lost and stolen cards, not fraud, and given that I'd already frozen the card, I should just drop by the branch on Monday to get a new card.

We flew home, and later the next day, I logged into my account and made a list of all the fraudulent transactions and printed them out, and on Monday morning, I drove to the bank to deal with all the paperwork. The folks at the CU were even more pissed than I was. The fraud that run up to more than $8,000, and if Visa refused to take it out of the merchants where the card had been used, my little credit union would have to eat the loss.

I agreed and commiserated. I also pointed out that their outsource, after-hours fraud center bore some blame here: I'd canceled the card on Saturday but most of the fraud had taken place on Sunday. Something had gone wrong.

One cool thing about banking at a tiny credit-union is that you end up talking to people who have actual authority, responsibility and agency. It turned out the the woman who was processing my fraud paperwork was a VP, and she decided to look into it. A few minutes later she came back and told me that the fraud center had no record of having called me on Saturday.

"That was the fraudster," she said.

Oh, shit. I frantically rewound my conversation, trying to figure out if this could possibly be true. I hadn't given him anything apart from some very anodyne info, like what city I live in (which is in my Wikipedia entry), my date of birth (ditto), and the last four digits of my card.

Wait a sec.

He hadn't asked for the last four digits. He'd asked for the last seven digits. At the time, I'd found that very frustrating, but now – "The first nine digits are the same for every card you issue, right?" I asked the VP.

I'd given him my entire card number.

Goddammit.

The thing is, I know a lot about fraud. I'm writing an entire series of novels about this kind of scam:

https://us.macmillan.com/books/9781250865878/thebezzle

And most summers, I go to Defcon, and I always go to the "social engineering" competitions where an audience listens as a hacker in a soundproof booth cold-calls merchants (with the owner's permission) and tries to con whoever answers the phone into giving up important information.

But I'd been conned.

Now look, I knew I could be conned. I'd been conned before, 13 years ago, by a Twitter worm that successfully phished out of my password via DM:

https://locusmag.com/2010/05/cory-doctorow-persistence-pays-parasites/

That scam had required a miracle of timing. It started the day before, when I'd reset my phone to factory defaults and reinstalled all my apps. That same day, I'd published two big online features that a lot of people were talking about. The next morning, we were late getting out of the house, so by the time my wife and I dropped the kid at daycare and went to the coffee shop, it had a long line. Rather than wait in line with me, my wife sat down to read a newspaper, and so I pulled out my phone and found a Twitter DM from a friend asking "is this you?" with a URL.

Assuming this was something to do with those articles I'd published the day before, I clicked the link and got prompted for my Twitter login again. This had been happening all day because I'd done that mobile reinstall the day before and all my stored passwords had been wiped. I entered it but the page timed out. By that time, the coffees were ready. We sat and chatted for a bit, then went our own ways.

I was on my way to the office when I checked my phone again. I had a whole string of DMs from other friends. Each one read "is this you?" and had a URL.

Oh, shit, I'd been phished.

If I hadn't reinstalled my mobile OS the day before. If I hadn't published a pair of big articles the day before. If we hadn't been late getting out the door. If we had been a little more late getting out the door (so that I'd have seen the multiple DMs, which would have tipped me off).

There's a name for this in security circles: "Swiss-cheese security." Imagine multiple slices of Swiss cheese all stacked up, the holes in one slice blocked by the slice below it. All the slices move around and every now and again, a hole opens up that goes all the way through the stack. Zap!

The fraudster who tricked me out of my credit card number had Swiss cheese security on his side. Yes, he spoofed my bank's caller ID, but that wouldn't have been enough to fool me if I hadn't been on vacation, having just used a pair of dodgy ATMs, in a hurry and distracted. If the 737 Max disaster hadn't happened that day and I'd had more time at the gate, I'd have called my bank back. If my bank didn't use a slightly crappy outsource/out-of-hours fraud center that I'd already had sub-par experiences with. If, if, if.

The next Friday night, at 5:30PM, the fraudster called me back, pretending to be the bank's after-hours center. He told me my card had been compromised again. But: I hadn't removed my card from my wallet since I'd had it replaced. Also, it was half an hour after the bank closed for the long weekend, a very fraud-friendly time. And when I told him I'd call him back and asked for the after-hours fraud number, he got very threatening and warned me that because I'd now been notified about the fraud that any losses the bank suffered after I hung up the phone without completing the fraud protocol would be billed to me. I hung up on him. He called me back immediately. I hung up on him again and put my phone into do-not-disturb.

The following Tuesday, I called my bank and spoke to their head of risk-management. I went through everything I'd figured out about the fraudsters, and she told me that credit unions across America were being hit by this scam, by fraudsters who somehow knew CU customers' phone numbers and names, and which CU they banked at. This was key: my phone number is a reasonably well-kept secret. You can get it by spending money with Equifax or another nonconsensual doxing giant, but you can't just google it or get it at any of the free services. The fact that the fraudsters knew where I banked, knew my name, and had my phone number had really caused me to let down my guard.

The risk management person and I talked about how the credit union could mitigate this attack: for example, by better-training the after-hours card-loss staff to be on the alert for calls from people who had been contacted about supposed card fraud. We also went through the confusing phone-menu that had funneled me to the wrong department when I called in, and worked through alternate wording for the menu system that would be clearer (this is the best part about banking with a small CU – you can talk directly to the responsible person and have a productive discussion!). I even convinced her to buy a ticket to next summer's Defcon to attend the social engineering competitions.

There's a leak somewhere in the CU systems' supply chain. Maybe it's Zelle, or the small number of corresponding banks that CUs rely on for SWIFT transaction forwarding. Maybe it's even those after-hours fraud/card-loss centers. But all across the USA, CU customers are getting calls with spoofed caller IDs from fraudsters who know their registered phone numbers and where they bank.

I've been mulling this over for most of a month now, and one thing has really been eating at me: the way that AI is going to make this kind of problem much worse.

Not because AI is going to commit fraud, though.

One of the truest things I know about AI is: "we're nowhere near a place where bots can steal your job, we're certainly at the point where your boss can be suckered into firing you and replacing you with a bot that fails at doing your job":

https://pluralistic.net/2024/01/15/passive-income-brainworms/#four-hour-work-week

I trusted this fraudster specifically because I knew that the outsource, out-of-hours contractors my bank uses have crummy headsets, don't know how to pronounce my bank's name, and have long-ass, tedious, and pointless standardized questionnaires they run through when taking fraud reports. All of this created cover for the fraudster, whose plausibility was enhanced by the rough edges in his pitch - they didn't raise red flags.

As this kind of fraud reporting and fraud contacting is increasingly outsourced to AI, bank customers will be conditioned to dealing with semi-automated systems that make stupid mistakes, force you to repeat yourself, ask you questions they should already know the answers to, and so on. In other words, AI will groom bank customers to be phishing victims.

This is a mistake the finance sector keeps making. 15 years ago, Ben Laurie excoriated the UK banks for their "Verified By Visa" system, which validated credit card transactions by taking users to a third party site and requiring them to re-enter parts of their password there:

https://web.archive.org/web/20090331094020/http://www.links.org/?p=591

This is exactly how a phishing attack works. As Laurie pointed out, this was the banks training their customers to be phished.

I came close to getting phished again today, as it happens. I got back from Berlin on Friday and my suitcase was damaged in transit. I've been dealing with the airline, which means I've really been dealing with their third-party, outsource luggage-damage service. They have a terrible website, their emails are incoherent, and they officiously demand the same information over and over again.

This morning, I got a scam email asking me for more information to complete my damaged luggage claim. It was a terrible email, from a noreply@ email address, and it was vague, officious, and dishearteningly bureaucratic. For just a moment, my finger hovered over the phishing link, and then I looked a little closer.

On any other day, it wouldn't have had a chance. Today – right after I had my luggage wrecked, while I'm still jetlagged, and after days of dealing with my airline's terrible outsource partner – it almost worked.

So much fraud is a Swiss-cheese attack, and while companies can't close all the holes, they can stop creating new ones.

Meanwhile, I'll continue to post about it whenever I get scammed. I find the inner workings of scams to be fascinating, and it's also important to remind people that everyone is vulnerable sometimes, and scammers are willing to try endless variations until an attack lands at just the right place, at just the right time, in just the right way. If you think you can't get scammed, that makes you especially vulnerable:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/02/24/passive-income/#swiss-cheese-security

Image: Cryteria (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:HAL9000.svg

CC BY 3.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0/deed.en