#but a fan who is tired of their double morality

[piratecaptainscaptainpirates]

Alright, so there's been a lot of chatter about some of the most common racist takes in the fandom lately, and I know most people aren't engaging in good faith but I'm gonna spell some things out anyway. Here's a handy-dandy White Fan's Intro to Racist Fanon 101

Why is it racist to depict Ed as uncontrollably violent?

Because he's not actually depicted that way in the show. OFMD goes out of its way to depict Ed's relationship with violence as complex and intensely traumatic for him. Because he has so many hangups around violence, Ed is one of the least violent characters in a show full of violent characters. He is always shown giving people many chances before they're able to push him into reacting with violence.

Even if you think you're just doing a character study on a guy who is really very complex and nuanced, please take the time to consider if you're assigning more weight to Ed's violent actions than those of other characters or assuming he's worse than he actually is (for example, Ed never physically hurt the crew during his kraken spiral, just Izzy. His crime was being a shitty boss, not going on mindlessly violent rampages).

What do other common fanon depictions of Ed that are racist look like?

The biggest ones are depicting Ed as untidy/messy, as illiterate, and as needing a white man (most often Izzy) to clean up after him. I hope I shouldn't have to spell out why these are racist, but please keep an eye out for them in the fanon you consume so you can be critical of how you respond when they pop up.

Are you saying that all Izzy fans are racist?

Liking a character is morally neutral. Insisting that the viewpoint of an antagonistic character is the lens through which the show should be understood, though, especially when that antagonistic character's whole deal in the first season of the show was trying to control the behavior of the brown lead so he could gain power for himself, however...

Just please consider - why do you find Izzy's tears more deserving of sympathy and compassion than Ed's?

But my hot take/fic/meta doesn't say anything about Ed's skin color!

It doesn't have to. Most of the racist takes/fic/meta out there don't mention Ed's skin color explicitly. Racism doesn't just look like saying "this character is a brown man so he's bad." Everyone who grows up in a racist society (that's everyone on the planet, btw, you included) has biases to unlearn, and those biases impact how you interact with the world around you, including with the media you consume.

The thing is, OFMD isn't a subtle show. It's very consistent with telling us who Ed is, how he responds to situations, and why he behaves the way he does. If you find it easier to throw all that aside in favor of believing what a white antagonistic character tells you about him, then you should really take a bit to examine that.

And here's the most important thing to keep in mind:

This is not about you.

Trust me, it has to be pretty damn bad for fans of color to call out racism in fandom. Every time we do, we know we're gonna harrassment and just some truly awful shit in our inboxes. But you, random white fan who Did A Racism? No one is out to get you. No one thinks you're an awful person for including a racist trope in your stuff, we just wish you'd examine it so we can make this fandom a better place for everyone.

I have had amazing discussions with white fans who saw my posts on fandom racism and wanted a sensitivity read or a check so they could fix an instance where they uncritically included a racist trope. But most people who make similar mistakes will just double down and insist they didn't do anything wrong, and that makes fandom a worse place for all of us.

Fans of color deserve to feel safe and included in this fandom, and we're just tired of feeling like we have to beg to get some circles to see poc as people. You can do your part by being critical of these tropes and your reactions to them when they pop up.

[ohforficsake]

The Margay: Chapter 8

Benadryl

prev / series masterlist / main masterlist

Summary: Santiago recruits Frankie to contract for a covert agency that pairs them with danger in more ways than one. A series of one-shot snippets taking place during and around missions.

Pairing: Frankie Morales x Sniper!OFC

Word Count: ~ 13.2K words (I made y'all wait, but you get all of this and two spicy scenes)

Rating: Explicit 18+ / fingering, car sex, dirty talk, unprotected piv, creampie, oral (f receiving), comeshot, come eating / language / mentions of past drug use / hostage extraction / canon-consistent violence / Minors DNI

A/N: I know nothing about fixing cars. I know nothing about helicopters. I know that these two love each other. Special guest appearance this chapter by Ben Miller. Benny fans, your boy is a menace and he's wonderful.

Thank you, thank you, thank you all for your lovely comments, for recommending this story, and for screaming with me about these two.

chapter moodboard if you're interested

Divider by @cafekitsune!

MONDAY

AN UNDISCLOSED LOCATION IN HONDURAS.

“MOOSE,” Santiago barks at where Audrey’s bent double over the hood of a Land Rover as he slams their truck door. 

She doesn’t bother to drop what she’s doing, perimeter alarms two miles down the hill had already alerted her to their arrival.

One of them thwaks her on the ass and she knows it's Santi.

Frankie doesn’t do it like that.

“Whatcha got, what’s going on here?” He peers down at wires and tubes. 

“Auxiliary belt’s fucked, where’s my…”

“Catfish get over here, she’s talkin’ your shit, I’ve got no idea.” Pope calls over his shoulder, not realizing that “Frankie” and not the name of some obscure tool is actually the intended end of her sentence. “This thing armored?” He kicks a tire.

“Yep.”

A massive palm spreads over her back, the shadow of his body a cooling balm.

She looks up now.

“Hi,” Frankie smiles.

“Hi,” she grins over her shoulder, craning her neck back for a kiss, and Frankie briefly slips her his tongue because he’s never been able to resist a girl who’s good with her hands. 

“Serpentine belt?” He asks when she breaks away.

‘Yeah, it’s cracked to shit. Gonna swap the tensioner too. Let me get the breaker bar?”

“Like a different fucking language,” Pope quips as he opens the driver’s side door and slips inside.

And Frankie’s torn between letting her continue and wanting desperately to take over the job, lest a speck of grease mar her lovely skin. She’s clearly capable of doing this herself, but chivalry wins out and he grabs the long metal rod from the toolbox on the ground.

“Top or bottom?” Meaning which tensioner.

“Bottom, it’s got too much play in it,” she answers, pressing on the bearing to show him.

“Oh shit yeah, that’s loose.”

“God, get a room,” Santi quips from where he’s reclining in the driver’s seat, brim of his cap pulled low over his eyes against the sun.

“Why don’t you do something useful like unload the truck?” Frankie calls as he slots the breaker bar into place. “Hold on let me get a picture of how it’s sitting,” and he reaches in his back pocket as she slides her left arm in front of his face. She’s drawn the belt’s path on the inside of her forearm in pen to help with re-threading the new strip of rubber.

Frankie’s cock twitches.

She knows what she’s doing. 

She always does.

She would have done this without him.

And she lets him in anyway.

He applies pressure to the bar, forcing the tensioner away from the belt and Audrey reaches over him to slip the old rubber strap from the pulleys, her chest grazing his arm as she does.

God if Santiago wasn’t fucking here right now flits across his mind. 

If this isn’t all of his teenage fantasies come to life…

She has the belt off in seconds and disappears as he hits the inside of the breaker bar with his palm to unlatch it. Audrey returns with a wrench, new belt slung diagonally across her torso.

“Crack that nut off for me, baby?” She doesn’t need to tell him, but she enjoys needling Pope, who scoffs from his leather cradle.

Fish’s broad shoulders briefly strain under the cotton of his t-shirt as he gets it loose, winding it off the bolt with deft fingers. He slots the nut into his back pocket out of habit and the mechanism comes away in his hands. 

“Don’t need that, it came with one,” and Audrey dives in with the new tensioner, lining the lugs of the new part up before screwing the new nut part-way on. She slips the new belt off of where she’s wearing it and Frankie helps her line it up, pausing occasionally to check her arm for the positioning, landing a kiss on her shoulder here, dragging his nose up her tricep there. 

Once they have the belt back in place, Frankie tightens the nut on the new tensioner and they both step back.

“Oi,” Frankie pounds on the headlight to get Santiago’s attention. 

“Start her up?” Audrey rests one hand on her hip and shields her eyes with the other.

Santi gropes around for the keys before starting the truck and Audrey and Frankie let it run for a second before stepping forward to inspect their work. 

“Yeah, looks good.” 

“Sounds better than it did,” Audrey adds. 

Fish raises his voice to be heard over the engine, “shut her off, Pope.”

Frankie fiddles around, checking the tightness on all of the bolts within his reach before they work together to replace the fanbelt shroud and reconnect the air filter pipes.

“Where in the hell did you learn to do that?” Fish rubs the heels of his palms together when it’s through, squinting against the sun.

Audrey slams the hood closed. “Friend with a Messerschmitt has a thing for old cars too.” 

Frankie’s gotta meet this guy.

But right now he has a more–pressing–problem and he excuses himself with a “gotta hit the head.” He figures cool water on the back of his neck will unwind him enough that he can face them again.

_____

Hours later the three of them are hunched over the dining table, staring daggers at a site plan that’s dotted with an array of plastic army figurines.

There’s a poker chip in the center. A four-year-old hostage that needs extracting. The daughter of a diplomat being held for political leverage.

None of them are happy about it.

But they’re also among the handful of people in the world who can get her out alive. 

Each of them feels that obligation acutely.

“We need another man,” Audrey crosses her arms over her chest.

“The compound is just too big. Too many fucking people,” Santi scratches at his beard. “If we need Fish in the bird ready to run, that’s already too sparse. And if we need you up here,” he points to tight concentric circles on the plan that signify high ground, “keeping the path to the bird clear, I can get in quietly, no problem, but I can’t get out with a hostage in tow.”

“What if I go with you?” Frankie pipes up, “it takes less than 90 seconds to get this in the air,” he points at a toy helicopter with an index finger.

“90 seconds could be too long. And god forbid something happens to you in there and you can’t fly that bird,” she taps inside the building. “Then we have two sets of dead weight and a hornet’s nest on high alert. I wouldn’t be able to get there in time to fly everyone  out.”

Pope twirls a pen between his fingers and Frankie places and replaces the helicopter at different points around the map before returning it to its original position at the private airstrip.

“That’s the only spot that works. Anywhere else draws attention and/or goes against the intel on their route,” he concludes, rubbing at his eyes with his thumb and middle fingers. 

“How do we know that’s not drawing attention anyway?” Santi bites the inside of his cheek as he gestures at the helicopter.

“There’s been a nature documentary crew in and out of that airstrip for weeks. The bird Davis’ guys lined up is  the same make and model with all the same markings,” Frankie answers. “It’s just bulletproof.”

Santi turns to Audrey, “can he get someone else out here?” Meaning their boss.

“Getting someone out here isn’t the problem, getting someone out here that I trust is. Everyone I knew in there is long gone.”

“You still got any friends?” Santi’s brow knits.

“Not ones who do this kind of shit anymore.”

“Pope,” Frankie pipes up after a beat. “Ben?”

“Yeah,” Santiago lights up, “yeah, you think he’d be up for it?”

Frankie shrugs, “worth a shot. Benny’s down for anything.”

“Ben is…Miller?” Her brain reaches back and spits out what she can remember of the Lorea briefing and bits of the stories they’ve told about a “Benny.”

“Yeah.” They both look at her expectantly. 

They need the final party’s buy-in.

“Tell me more.”

“He’s solid. Ready to do whatever it takes to get a job done,” Santi starts.

“A bit brash at times, maybe,” Frankie tempers Pope’s enthusiasm. “A little wild when he drinks, a little hot under the collar,” he scratches at this beard. “But not in the way that disobeys orders.”

“He runs clean during a mission, Aud. Doesn’t like an operation that doesn’t go to plan. Doesn’t leave messes. Puts his own life on the line when it matters.” Santi says firmly. “Might be a bit of an adjustment period though.” 

“Might be.” Francisco apparently agrees.

“In what way.” She stares them both down.

“He, uh…might have a little bit of a hard time taking your orders at first.” Santi runs a hand through his hair.

“He’ll push you a bit,” Frankie again scratches at his chin. “Not because he wants to run it.”

“Just because he doesn’t know you,” Santi finishes, arms crossed, hip resting against the edge of the table. “But he’ll fall in line.”

“Anything else I should know?”

“He uh,” Santi takes his eyes over her form, “might come on a bit strong,” Santi says.

“He’s gonna want to fuck you, Aud.” Frankie translates.

“That I can handle. All of this I can handle. Do you trust him?” Her green gaze slides between the two men.

“I do.” Pope answers with conviction. 

Frankie responds, “with my life.”

She stares hard at Frankie before drumming her fingers on the table. “Okay. I’d like not to lose time and waste the intel on this. Davis can have a screen run on him tonight if he’s game. Can he get on a plane tomorrow?”

“I’ll ask,” Frankie sits up and reaches for his phone. 

It dings in response thirty seconds later. 

“He’s in.”

And she immediately slips her cell phone out of her back pocket, stepping into the other room to make arrangements with Davis. 

_____

“Nothing more to do tonight. We’re gonna take this thing out on a test run,” Frankie tips the brim of his cap up far enough to swipe curls off of his forehead as he makes his way through the kitchen.

“It’s 9pm, it’s dark,” and no sooner is it out of Santiago’s mouth than he catches Frankie’s drift.

“Mind your business, Pope.”

“Roger,” Santi turns back to his beer and the baseball game he’s watching on his phone. “If you aren’t back by midnight I’m calling in a BOLO for two idiots fucking in the back seat of a Land Rover.”

“I was actually in the mood to do it on the hood,” Audrey quips as she appears at the foot of the stairs.

“Fine, just don’t leave come stains that I have to look at when I’m driving it tomorrow.”

“No promises,” Audrey winks and Pope scoffs.

Frankie slaps him on the shoulder on his way out the door.

“Lucky fuckin’ bastard,” Pope murmurs under his breath and takes a swig of beer.

_____

Half an hour later, Frankie has her naked in the sea, legs wrapped around his waist, lips at her throat before the brim of his cap knocks her in the chin.

“Francisco, what is the deal with this thing, you shower with it on?” She reaches to spin it around backwards.

“Just my favorite hat,” he returns to sucking on her collarbone, tongue accepting the bitter burn of salt water so long as it’s laced with the taste of her skin.

“What is Standard Heating Oil?”

“No clue. Found it in the dollar bin at Goodwill one day.”

“Fascinating.” He has no tie to this hat save for the fact that it’s his and it goes everywhere with him.

“Used to get made fun of as a kid. For having curly hair,” he tucks his chin into the juncture of her shoulder.

The brush of his beard tickles her skin as he continues.

“Just always preferred to cover it up, I guess.”

Audrey takes the hat off and slips it backwards onto her own head. 

Her fingers wind in his curls.

And she holds him without prying.

“Used to get made fun of a lot as a kid. My hair. My nose. Wasn’t really into sports either.”

“You’ve just named some of the things I like most about you,” Audrey kisses at his jaw. “What were you into, Frankie?” She whispers.

“Liked to read, I suppose,” he muses.

And she hums, nuzzling her face into Frankie’s shoulder. “I like that about you too.”

He’s warm and open like this as they listen to the soft lap of waves against the shore. She holds him as if it could seep into her bones.

After a moment Frankie whispers, “I, um. I used to—not—be good at handling all of this. My past and my present.”

And she pulls back a fraction to gaze softly into dark eyes.

“I used to use.”

And her hand in his hair strokes gently over the nape of his neck as un-shed tears set brown eyes swimming.

“Coke. I just kind of fell off the wagon,” he nods like he needs her to agree that this doesn’t change him. 

Audrey holds his face in her palms, thumbs gently skimming over the apples of his cheeks.

“Got hit with a license suspension a few years ago. Then Pope came through with the Lorea job and that—that didn’t—” he trails off.

“Ended up getting the license back but—”

Frankie stares over her right shoulder out into the horizon.

“Everything else fell ap—”

And Audrey presses her lips to his because she doesn’t know what more to do than allow her body to speak where the prospect of words seems trite in comparison. She presses her lips to his cheek and wraps her arms tight to his neck until he returns her hold, tighter than before.

“I haven’t, though,” he murmurs against her skin, nodding his head again.

“In two years. I haven’t used.”

And she knows what lives in the spaces between those words.

I haven’t used since you.

And it terrifies her.

I can’t save you.

I can’t fix you.

I can’t be that for you, Frankie.

And yet.

She is. 

He’s quiet for a long while in her arms. Body slowly giving up its tension to the water before he murmurs, “you float, baby.”

And her brow furrows in the moonlight.

“I sink. In the ocean,” he muses as he pulls back to look at her. “You’re like a life vest.”

And Audrey chances a joke, looking down at her full chest and muttering, “well…”

Frankie’s tongue darts out to lick at his bottom lip. “Nuh uh this too,” his hands slip down to grip hard at her ass.

And whatever that was before has passed.

Audrey welcomes it with a laugh and a kiss at his jaw. 

“I missed you,” he whispers and again fits his chin into the curve of her shoulder.

“Oh, Francisco,” she sighs and presses her nose to his wet hair, inhaling the salted smell of him.

“I know it’s only been three weeks,” he starts to apologize. 

For his attachment.

“I missed you too,” she preempts and arches into him, gripping his neck tighter.

“Can I tell you something?” Frankie pulls back, whispering against her chin.

“Of course,” is her answer, but she stiffens ever so slightly.

Because he’s said it far too intimately.

And mercifully more than three words tumble out of his mouth.

“I saw you fixing that truck today,” he noses at her jaw to whisper against her lips. “I could have fucked you right there on the hood.”

“Oh yeah?” Audrey whispers with the beginnings of a smirk playing on her lips.

“I was so fucking hard.” 

“Is that why you ran away?” She laughs. “You know Pope was half asleep.”

“Yeah, but you’re loud, baby,” he lets out a sly murmur. “Would have been a hell of a wakeup call.”

“Ah, and you’re quiet as a church mouse.”

Frankiee grins with guilty teeth in his bottom lip. 

“Could have taken me with you,” she presses her lips to his, opening just a fraction to allow his tongue into her mouth, “to wherever you absconded to.”

“The lady deserves better.”

“Mm, like the hood of a car?”

“Done.”

She lets him go and starts racing towards the shore.

Frankie follows after her, catching her around the waist and hoisting her onto the hood of the Rover, massive hand hooked around the nape of her neck with a grin splitting his face.

Audrey reaches for him, hand wrapping around the girth of his half-hard cock, working him as his forehead briefly thumps against hers. 

“Oh, fuckk—,” Frankie hisses. “Baby. Baby, baby, baby—” he rumbles through the lowest registers of his voice as the fingers of one hand trail up the back of her calf. Frankie’s palm settles on one knee before he roughly pushes her thighs open wider. 

“Look at me,” he whispers.

Audrey slants her gaze down at him as he stares back from under hazy half-closed lids.

Frankie slips his middle and ring fingers into his mouth, sucking the salt from them as her jaw drops open, brows knitted with want. His fingers slip between her folds in time with his tongue between her teeth to deliver the taste of salt to her the moment his fingers slip inside.

“Wet already? Ohh baby,” Frankie purrs into her mouth. “My pretty, dirty baby,” he pants, hips thrusting his cock into her fist now.

She moans into his mouth and arches, pressing her breasts against his chest before she freezes.

“Frankie, get in the car.”

“I want you right here,” he skates his nose up her neck.

“Frankie, there’s a truck coming, get the fuck inside.”

And no sooner does she say it than his ears catch the distant whine of a diesel engine winding up the coastal highway.

“Oh, fuck,” he chuckles, corseting her waist in his generous hands and picking her up off the hood, making sure she has her feet before grabbing the pile of their clothes from off the hood. 

They dive into the backseat of the truck, Audrey first and Frankie close behind such that they end up a tangle of limbs, leather squeaking under wet skin. 

Frankie drapes himself over her, a wet curl falling into his eyes as he peeks up out of the window, tracking the truck’s path.

“Fifty meters,” he reports before mumbling “fuck, I’m sorry baby,” as Audrey shifts under him where knees and elbows fell at painful angles.

“‘S okay, how are we doing?” She glances up at the thick column of his neck above her.

“Ten meters,” Frankie counts it down, “five,” he ducks down out of view momentarily before tracking the truck the other way. 

“I think we’re clear, baby.” 

And the moonlight streaming through the sunroof catches in her eyes, turning them a shade of seafoam. 

Illuminating something that he can’t quite unpack right now through the haze of lust.

Frankie fits his mouth to hers again, suddenly possessed with the need to feel. His palm slides down to cup one breast, pinching her nipple before spreading wide over her ribcage. 

He runs greedy fingertips over her skin as he moves, kissing at her stomach and biting at her inner thigh.

She props herself up on her elbows and takes his cap from her head, tossing it onto the driver’s seat before raking a hand through her curls and reaching for his cheek.

He turns his face to kiss her palm.

And Frankie almost lets something slip on a sigh.

“I—”

“Need you,” he swallows hard. “I need you, Aud,” Frankie’s voice is a cracked whisper when he pauses to look up at her. 

“Have me, Frankie.”

And he again kisses her palm before sucking her thumb into his mouth, crawling back up her body. His right hand snakes down to pump his cock, the other fitting into the crease of her thigh. 

“Are you—?” He murmurs against her lips.

“Frankie—” she chokes on a desperate breath and he thrusts inside of her such that they both cry out, Audrey’s nails sinking into his tricep, Frankie’s mouth open, teeth catching at her jawline. 

“Oh God,” he rests his forehead against hers as she tangles her fingers in his wet curls, tipping her face to suck on his bottom lip.

“Frankie, move,” she urges and he does, slowly at first. Long, deep strokes before he sits up, hands settling on her hips as his speed builds. 

He’s not slow about chasing his own release. 

One knee on the floorboards, the other foot hiked up on the seat with her leg over his hip, fingers digging into the curve of her waist, yanking her against him to meet his every thrust. Audrey braces one hand against the door, and the other on the back of the seat.

Frankie’s a man in a trance. 

Breath hissing through clenched teeth, gaze fixed on where he sinks inside of her. A curl falls loose across a forehead growing damp with sweat. 

Audrey arches in his hold, “you feel so good Frankie.”

“You’re so tight, baby.” 

When he reaches up to grip one shoulder he pulls her ass clear off the seat.

But even in this one-track haze Frankie is quick to protect her, arm looping around the small of her back, and the other coming to the crown of her head, guarding it against the roof as he twists to sit on the seat with her on top of him. 

He pauses a moment with wide, panicked eyes, as though he’s surprised even himself. 

“Smooth, Morales,” she grabs his face between her hands and slips her tongue into his mouth. “Very. Fucking. Smooth.”

And she’s in control now. 

Audrey leans back to brace her hands on his thighs, rolling her hips, allowing them both to feel every inch of each other. Frankie’s head falls back into the space between the headrests, hands roaming her skin, squeezing at her breasts, fingers fitting into the spaces between her ribs, thumbs running down over her abs before settling below her navel, feeling how his cock fills her from the outside. 

“Oh shit,” Frankie’s head snaps back, lip curled as he watches in lurid fascination. Audrey indulges him for a moment before she shifts forward, one hand on the seat, the other on his chin. 

“Look at me.”

And he angles big brown eyes up at her before she kisses him with an open mouth. 

Frankie licks warm and wet down her neck, sucking at the salt of her skin mixed with seawater. He buries his nose between her breasts as he meets her hips halfway, palms skating over her back, one hand tangling in the curls at the base of her neck.

It’s too much when she meets his gaze again.

The way that lust has blown her green eyes dark. The way that plush lips hang open and wet from his tongue. The humid heat of bodies and the smack of flesh.

The way she looks at him with something he can’t name.

And Frankie can’t hold back anymore. He’s rough with her now. Building with frantic speed that has her bracing one palm against sunroof glass with her head thrown back, the sound of skin-on-skin echoing around the truck.

“Fuck, you’re so deep,” she keens.

“Yeah?”

He knows.

One hand moves to cup the base of her skull and roughly pulls her face back to his. 

“You like that?” Frankie presses his forehead to hers, grabbing her hard by the hips, and thrusts up hard into her cunt.

“Fuck,” she whispers.

“Yeahh you do,” he smirks, tipping his face to kiss her. “I know what my girl likes.”

He holds her hips, fully inside of her, the head of his cock pressed deep, guiding her back and forth to grind against him. Putting pressure on her clit. 

“Frankie, Frankie, Fr—ohh,” she breathes.

She can feel him smile against her mouth. 

“You gonna come for me, baby?”

She moans and tries to roll her hips but Frankie’s fingers dig in. 

“My pace, baby.”

And she groans in frustration.

“No, none of that,” he chuckles darkly, one hand sliding along the crease of her hip to rub circles against her clit.

Audrey digs the nails of one hand into the seat and wraps the other hand around the back of Frankie’s neck.

His tongue slips back into her mouth and he rolls his hips without pulling out, just barely teasing at that spot deep inside of her that makes her fall apart. 

“Jesus, Frankie,” she throws her head back. He watches her chest heave. The way the curves of her breasts catch the moonlight shining through the sunroof. He latches his mouth to one, tongue laving over sensitive skin.

The hand on the back of his neck grips hard at his hair and Frankie slips the flat of his teeth over her nipple before she tugs, bringing his mouth back to hers.

Frankie’s arm wraps around the small of her back as his thumb and his hips speed up, growling now. She reaches down, skating her hand over where his rests. Her fingers replace his thumb on her clit and Frankie squeezes the globes of her ass.

“Frankie, I don’t think…”

“Turn around,” he commands.

And she arches an eyebrow, slowly climbing off of him, both moaning at the loss of contact. Frankie urges her around, a palm skating between her shoulder blades, pressing her forward to lean against the back of the passenger’s seat. She languidly drapes her arms over either side of the headrest. 

Frankie shifts on the seat and slowly sinks inside of her again.

“Ohh fuck,” she sighs, forehead thumping against leather. 

Frankie spreads his thighs wider.

“Sit, baby,” but he doesn’t allow her time to react before yanking her down onto his lap, fully sheathed inside of her. He moves slowly at first testing this new angle before leaning forward, dropping kisses down her spine.

“That better?”

And she hums a laugh, glancing back over her shoulder. Frankie’s eyes flick up to her and he grins, nipping at her skin. 

He hooks a hand over her shoulder as he fucks her with the other on her waist, building in pace until his hips lift off the seat with every thrust as she bucks her hips back against him. Audrey reaches between her legs to rub her clit and Frankie growls.

“Yeah, baby.”

And the angle is perfect now and Audrey starts to cry out from the depths of her chest. “Frankie, that’s it, that’s it, that’s it, that’s—OH.” She braces her free hand on the back of the seat and Frankie feels his balls tighten when she pushes back against him as pleasure sears through her.  

Frankie slows his thrusts, moaning as her walls milk his cock.

Audrey finally exhales on a ragged cry and Frankie wraps an arm around her waist to pull her against his skin as hips pick up speed, chasing his own release. 

She arches in his hold, head falling back against his shoulder. Frankie hips snap hard with a shout as his cock pulses, his body shuddering with it. 

Nose smashing against her cheekbone. 

Teeth softly nipping at her jaw.

Audrey reaches up to cup his cheek, lips pressing softly to the corner of his mouth. Frankie kisses her properly, slow and wet as palms rub across her stomach, up her ribs and over her breasts as his tongue slips into her mouth.

The windows of the Rover have gone foggy with heat.

He wraps his arms around her waist and holds her to him, softening cock still inside of her, chest heaving as she moans softly through ragged breaths, still tingling.

Frankie kisses at her cheek and up to her temple before whispering, “was that…?”

“So good.” She shifts and Frankie holds her tighter, head thumping against hers.

“Don’t. Don’t leave me yet,” he pants.

“Frankie,” she scratches lovingly at his scalp. “Baby. I really have to pee.”

And he laughs a self-satisfied laugh against her hairline.

“Okay,” he shifts her, pulling out of her heat with a moan. “Wait,” he holds her with an iron arm around her waist, swiping a hand through the fog on the window, checking that it’s clear before he cracks the door. 

He shifts her onto the seat as he steps out first.

“I’m a big girl, Frankie, I can…”

He holds both hands out to her, corseting her waist, intending to half lift her down onto the beach. “You’re gonna fall, Bambi Legs.”

And she can’t help the hearty laugh that it pulls from her.

True to form, her legs falter the moment her feet hit the sand, but Frankie holds her to his chest, staring down at her through warm brown eyes, tucking her hair behind her ear with a wink. 

Frankie kisses her on the forehead and spins her around towards a small outcropping of rocks. “Go on, Bambi,” he swats her on the ass.

“Can I have my underwear at least?”

“No,” Frankie screws up his face and scoffs, reaching into the tangle of clothes in the backseat to fish out her thong. He has it crushed to his nose when he turns around.

“Perv,” she quips with a grin, swatting him on the arm with them after he hands them over.

She returns to find Frankie leaning against a tire, back door open, barefoot and clad in his jeans and cap, one of her cigarettes dangling between his lips. 

“Excuse me, sir, you can’t smoke there,” she quips as she molds her body against his, slipping her hands into his back pockets. Frankie lights the cigarette and blows the first puff out of the corner of his mouth before holding it to her lips. She inhales before Frankie follows suit.

Audrey pulls away from him, reaching for her sports bra and linen pants. Frankie presses his chest to her back after she pulls them both on, reaching for his t-shirt.

“Leave it,” she spins around and Frankie pops the cigarette between her lips as she runs her hand over his bare stomach.

“Yes, ma’am.” Frankie smiles before his eyes fall on the backseat. 

“We gotta clean this.”

Audrey slips around him, cigarette dangling from her lips, and pops the trunk open, rummaging around for a moment before tossing a packet of Clorox wipes in his direction.

Frankie cleans the seats as she starts the truck and rolls the windows down.

They drive back to the safehouse along the coastal road in companionable silence, wind whipping around the cabin, carrying wisps of cigarette smoke on salted breeze. 

Audrey drives with one hand, fingers of the other laced with Frankie’s.

_____

TUESDAY

When Santiago slips into the driver’s seat the next day for their early morning recon run, the first thing he does is briefly peer over the top of his sunglasses.

“Goddard, I can see your ass-print on the hood.”

“How do you know that’s not Morales,” she quips from the backseat.

“Morales has no ass.”

“Well, you said no come stains.” She pops her gum in the backseat as she loads another magazine into her rifle. “Nothing about ass prints.”  

Frankie pulls the brim of his cap down against Pope’s searing stare and bites the inside of his cheek to hide his smirk.

“Unbelievable,” Santi starts the ignition. “You two are unbelievable.”

“Unbelievably good at fixing that belt.” Frankie quips, banging one palm on the dashboard as they pull out of the drive.

“Fuck you, Fish.”

“She did that already.”

Audrey cackles from the backseat.

_____

Six hours later, Benny shows up on the doorstep of their safehouse.

Audrey greets him in leggings and a worn green t-shirt. 

“Well hell-o,” Benny peers down at her over the frames of his aviators.

“Miller?”

“Yup, yeah. Ben Miller,” he holds out his hand. 

“Audrey Goddard,” she offers a sturdy shake. “Come in, come in. The boys are just through in the back here,” she gestures through to the backyard.

Fish and Pope are locked in a sparring match, Frankie’s arm around Pope’s throat, wooden knife pulled out, ready to jab between Santi’s ribs before Pope taps him twice on the arm.

“Boys?’ Audrey calls.

Both of their heads turn in her direction and immediately they erupt in camaraderie. 

Hugs and claps on the back, big smiles all around. 

Audrey slips back inside, allowing them a moment to catch up.

After they’ve said their hellos Benny nods towards the house, “so uh, who’s that? She come with the place?”

“Moose? Nah. She’s running this thing.” Santi grins. 

“Like the coordinator?”

“No, like the Mission Commander, Benny.” Frankie scoffs. 

“No shit,” Benny perches his hands on his hips.

“Well. She technically outranks you,” Santi whacks Benny’s chest with the back of his hand. “Don’t overstep.”

And overstep is the first thing that Benny does.

“So you’re the Mission Commander?” Benny barks when she returns.

“Yes,” Audrey sets a fresh pitcher of water on the patio table.

“What’s your background?”

“I’ll have Davis email you my full roster,” she slips dark shades over her eyes against the sharp afternoon sun.

“Can’t tell me yourself?”

“We don’t have that much time.”

“What branch?”

“Never served under a branch.”

“So you never served.”

“I’ve been serving for almost 25 years, Miller.”

“Benny, did you not get—” Santi starts.

“I did. Didn’t read it.” Benny’s eyes are still locked on hers from behind mirrored aviators. “Alright,” he nods toward the lawn. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”

Frankie lets out a low whistle. “You’re about to be humbled, Benjamin.”

“Maybe,” he calls, not believing it for a second. “You’re tiny, though,” he says to Audrey, who slips off her shades and tosses them to Frankie.

Audrey’s no waif, but Benny is nine inches taller and has fifty pounds on her. 

And Benny fights guys bigger than he is down at the gym all the time. And wins. 

There’s no way in his mind that she can best him. 

“Take those off, pretty boy,” she points at his shades.

“‘S fine.”

“Alrigh,” she toes at the dirt, “not on me if they break.”

“Alright, keep it clean you two. No punches, no kicks, nothing permanent,” Santi calls. “Aud, you got knives on you?”

She reaches into her boots and pulls two out to hand over.

“Benny?”

“Nah, I just got off a plane, man.”

“Alright, set it up.”

 Benny jumps a few times before holding his fists up to his cheeks in a guard.

Audrey drops her right foot back and crouches.

And Santi gives the cue.

Immediately Benny closes the distance between the two of them, scooping her up and throwing her over his shoulder like a ragdoll. She’s quick to react, twisting to hook the inside of her elbow around the back of her knee, pulling tight such that the crease of her hip and the top of her thigh apply pressure on Benny’s neck, choking off his carotid artery.

He has no choice but to tap out, aviators hanging awkwardly off of the end of his nose.

“Okay,” he finally hands them off to Santi, raking his hair out of his eyes, “two out of three.”

Santi gives the signal again and Benny goes for her knees this time, immediately dropping her to the ground. They tussle for a moment before Audrey locks Benny in a triangle choke that he can’t find his way out of.

He taps out against her collarbone.

“Okay, three tries,” Benny grunts, blue shirt starting to darken with sweat.

“Benny, that’s—” Fish tries to intervene.

“It’s fine, Frankie,” Audrey’s chest is heaving as she holds up a hand in his direction. “Let him have it.”

They get back into position and when Santi gives the signal Benny is immediately behind her, trapping her neck in a chokehold between his arms, huge palm applying pressure to the back of her skull.

Frankie twitches but Santi holds out a hand.

Audrey jumps with her legs in the air, using their weight to swing Benny forward, turning as she lands and slipping her head from between his arms. Benny braces himself on his palms and immediately constricts, balling himself in an effort to cut off her ability to hook any of his limbs. In a flash she leans on his back, wrapping an arm over one shoulder and the other under the opposite armpit, prying one elbow away from his torso with a jab of her knee. Her leg hooks it and kicks back, taking Benny’s arm with it to its full span. She locks the top of her foot over her calf with his outstretched limb between her legs and spreads her knees, the pressure from her hips bending Benny’s arm the wrong way until he frantically slaps at a patch of dirt.

She instantly unfolds from him and rolls away into the grass.

“Alright,” he pants, holding out a fist, still face-down on his stomach. “You win.”

Audrey taps it with her own knuckles, fighting for breath. “You alright?”

“Yeah,” Benny swallows hard through his panting, “Yeah I’m good.”

He sits up and stretches his arm for good measure.

“Can we be done here?” Frankie asks, unsure that his heart can handle seeing her in danger, and positive that his dick is going to act up seeing her get herself out of it. “It’s fuckin’ hot.”

They take turns with showers between the safehouse’s two bathrooms, until Frankie slips in with Audrey.

“Thoughts?” He asks quietly, wetting his hair under the spray.

“He made good choices out there,” she hands him the bottle of shampoo. “Smart in a fight.”

“Yeah, Benny fights down at the local gym. Kind of a small-town celebrity.” He sneaks a kiss at the nape of her neck as he scrubs at his scalp before rinsing. “I didn’t know you could do that, though.” 

“Getting too old for much hand-to-hand these days,” she winks over her shoulder at him as he grabs the conditioner bottle from her, raking cream through her curls before slicking the excess through his own hair.

“He got you good back here,” Frankie delicately runs thick fingers over the bruises blossoming on the wings of her hip bones from when Benny took her knees out from under her. 

Frankie wraps his arms around her waist, holding her to his chest a moment.

“Don’t like seeing you like that.”

“This is what we do, Frankie,” she soothes a palm over his forearm.

“Yeah.”

And he gently turns her head to slip his tongue into her mouth, enjoying this moment to themselves.

Frankie warmed by the water. 

Audrey warmed by Frankie.

_____

They rejoin the boys in the kitchen where Santi has started on steaks and Benny has thrown in to whip up roasted vegetables. 

Frankie cracks open beers and passes them around.

Afternoon flows into evening. Beer flows into liquor. 

Camaraderie abounds.

Somewhere around 10pm, when Audrey excuses herself to the restroom, the whiskey in Benny’s veins springs a question loose.

“Alright, boys,” his voice is low. “Which one of you is hittin’ that because if you’re not, I’m gonna.”

“That’s pretty bold of you to assume she’d have you, Benny,” Pope reaches for his glass.

“It’s that white boy confidence,” Frankie quips from where he’s leaned back in his chair and Santi snorts, nearly spitting out his drink.

“I mean—” and Benny makes a show of running his hand through his hair. “But seriously, is she single?”

“She’s not gonna fuck you, Benny.” Santi grins.

“Alright, okay. I see you, Pope,” Benny smacks the back of his hand against Santi’s arm.

“I think I have to turn in, boys,” Audrey sighs when she returns, reaching for her glass without sitting and tossing back the last of her gin. “We’ll run it through top to bottom tomorrow and get you geared up,” she nods at Benny. “I have Davis’ guys refreshing the intel. Provided everything still checks out, we’ll execute on Thursday as originally planned.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Benny nods. Bourbon eyes starting to fall heavy on the sway of her hips. 

She places her glass in the sink before moving to gently grab Frankie’s chin one hand, thumb and middle fingers fitting in the bare patches in his beard, and bends to give him a quick, chaste kiss.

He hooks an arm around her waist when she moves away, hauling her against him again, “I’ll be there in a sec,” he assures her before craning his head up for her lips again.

“No rush,” she soothes a hand over the span of his chest, “I might be back down for water, but you boys enjoy. G’night.”

When she’s upstairs and out of earshot, Benny erupts in hushed tones.

“CATFISH, YOU DOG.”

Frankie grins and blushes in that order.

“Damn,” Benny muses to himself as he takes another sip of whiskey. “I would not have guessed.”

“Ah c’mon you should know better, Benny.” Santi jabs a thumb in Frankie’s direction. “Big Dick Morales, remember?”

“BIG. DICK. MORALES.” And Benny holds his hand up for a high-five that Frankie rolls his eyes at, crossing his arms against his chest instead. “Damn.”

“Bastard finally found his glass slipper,” Santi quips.

“Jesus Christ, Pope,” an agitated Frankie rubs at his eyes. “Okay can we—” Frankie winds his hand forward through the air, wanting desperately to move away from this line of conversation. 

Benny leans in across the table, finger pointed at the ceiling in reference to the woman upstairs, “the whole thing? Fuuuck.”

“Dude, you can hear the two of them like three rooms over,” Santi snarks.

“Oh well you gotta enlighten us, Catfish,” Benny spreads his arms and leans back in his chair.

“I ain’t tellin’ you shit, Benjamin.” Frankie quips, swallowing a mouthful of whiskey.

“Ah, c’mon, Fish. You know me and this one are painfully single.” Benny smacks Pope on the arm again. Like literally, my balls ache.”

“That’s not a real thing,” Frankie shakes his head.

“It is!”

“Then get acquainted with your hand, Benny, I dunno what to tell you.”

“She is smokin’ hot, Catfish. Can I at least get some material here…”

Frankie shakes his head and starts, “I’d suggest you try www dot p-o-r…”

And there’s a snort from the stairwell

Audrey in black sleep shorts and a Nine Inch Nails t-shirt, metal waterbottle in hand.

And she watches the tips of Benny’s ears start to burn.

Even Santiago sits up a bit straighter.

Frankie covers the smirk on his face with the heel of his palm.

Because he knows Audrey’s about to put Benny back in line for the second time today.

“Don’t let me stop you, boys,” she pads over to the sink on bare feet to fill her bottle.

Fraught silence hangs in the air until Benny pipes up.

“We uh, we were just asking Big Dick Morales over here to tell us his secret.” Bourbon has made Benny’s tongue loose. “Seems like you could have anyone and yet you chose this guy. Must know something we don’t.”

Audrey has a measured tolerance for many things. 

Slandering her lover is not one of them. 

“Benny,” she places her water bottle on the table. “Benjamin?” And she drapes her arm across Benny’s shoulders in a move that sends him rigid in his chair from the slouch he was in.

“You really want to know his secret?”

Benny swallows hard. 

“He’s sweet. He’s smart. He’s funny. There’s no peacocking with him. It’s that easy, Benny.”

Benny snorts like he doesn't believe her. 

Sober Ben Miller would never steal a friend’s girl. Drunk Ben Miller is a 6’3” blue-eyed, dirty dishwater blonde who’s never been told ‘no.’

And Audrey needs to disavow him of whatever little fantasy he has that distracts him from the task at hand and makes him think she’ll end up in his bed after the celebratory round of drinks when this is all through.

She cranes low to whisper near Benny’s ear, eyes glinting where they’re locked on Frankie’s mischievous, half-lidded ones. “Okay, here’s a secret, Benny. You ever found that spot that’s so deep it makes your lady see stars? Not the one up front, any idiot can find that. It’s way back in there, tucked away because it’s the most precious place you’ll ever go. That one spot that sets her whole body reeling for minutes afterward. You ever found that?”

And she waits until Benny answers, “no.”

“No? Santi, you ever done that?” She doesn’t move, and doesn’t break Frankie’s stare as she asks it.

“Once or twice,” it’s the truth, but Santiago smirks because he knows what she’s doing and agrees that it needs done. “It’s been years though.”

“Wild. Frankie hits that every. time.”

She claps him on the back, “you should try it, Benny. Good communication is key, but you’ll get there.”

And she hooks a finger into the cap of her water bottle and heads for the stairs.

Frankie throws them a salute with two fingers and follows right behind her.

“Was that too harsh?” She whispers when Frankie turns the lock on the bedroom door, brown eyes wide.

“Baby,” he grabs her around the waist, peppering her face with the softness of his lips and the scrape of his scruff. “That was so. fucking. sexy.” He trails his nose down her neck, licking and sucking at her skin.

“I only told the truth, Francisco,” she throws her arms around his neck.

And Frankie presses her to him, palm accidentally catching on her bruises and she winces.

“Fuck, I’m sorry,” he apologizes with lips on her neck.

“‘S okay,” a kiss, “get in bed, Frankie.”

Frankie hums, tongue licking behind her teeth. 

And she crawls under the duvet, settling on her side as Frankie quietly strips down to his boxer briefs, placing his cap on the nightstand.

Frankie hums as his lips find her ear and his hand cups her breast, making her arch back against him with a moan.

“Shhh baby,” Frankie soothes. “Not sure how thin these walls are.”

“Pope doesn’t give a shit.”

“Benny might. Wouldn’t want to scare the kid.”

“That’s a grown man, Francisco,” she whispers as she twists in his hold, hand cupping his jaw. “And I don’t really care what Benny hears,” her fingers slip down his stomach, nails catching on the trail of hair leading under his waistband.

She smirks against his lips, “how did that conversation even start?”

“Mhmm,” Frankie squeezes her thigh and pulls her closer to him, nose skimming her cheek. “Benny wanted to know if you’re single.”

“Am I not?”

“No. You’re mine.”

And he moves before Audrey can process Frankie having laid their situation that bare in front of her. He rolls and pulls her with him to lie on his chest, hand cradling her skull as his lips find hers.

But he senses her hesitation.

“Do—do you want to fuck Benny?” His eyes are suddenly soft. Unsure of himself.

“No, Frankie, I don’t want to fuck Benny.” She adjusts to straddle his hips and sits up, raking her hair out of her eyes.

“Then wh—”

“Shhh, Frankie, please,” she soothes both hands over the slight swell of his belly. “Tonight, I’m yours,” she cranes down to kiss him, “and for the rest of this trip, I’m yours.”

But it all sounds so temporary.

And he wants so desperately to push back. To ask what happens in the after. 

What happens when she goes home? Does she lay in bed alone, sleeping like a baby, or is her bed warmed by someone else? 

Does she wish for his company when she goes to the movies, does she need someone to hold her shopping bags at the mall, who packs her groceries in her fridge, or does she do it all alone?

Does she make herself come and wish it was him?

Is he some secret she keeps stashed away?

Is there another?

Does she think of him at all?

“But—”

“Francisco. Leave it.” Her gaze is granite. “Please. Please let us just have this. Right here. Right now.”

And the thing in her eyes is back again. The thing he can’t quite name.

But there’s want there too.

And it’s only the whiskey with a side of beer that allows him to acquiesce.

“Okay,” he whispers, kissing her deeply before sitting up, palms skating up the panes of her back before flipping her over, parting her legs with his shoulders.

And he means okay out of desperation. The visceral need to prove his worth to a woman that could slip through his fingers and into another man’s bed on a whim.

There would be a taker downstairs.

And okay he’s going to do his best.

Okay, he’ll pour want—need—through his fingertips.

Okay.

He’ll crack granite.

And Frankie has all the right moves. The skillful flick of his tongue, the hollowing of his cheeks, and the pump of his fingers.

But Audrey’s brain won’t let her come.

“Baby,” he looks up from between her thighs, rubbing a palm down her stomach, “where are you?”

She takes a deep breath as he rakes his hair off of his forehead and runs his tongue over a bottom lip wet with her slick.

“Fuck, I’m sorry, baby.” She props herself up on her elbows and Frankie gently lets her legs fall open to climb up her body, the tip of his nose brushing hers.

“What’s wrong, gatita?” He whispers.

And that word feels a world away from where they are now.

“Think I’m just distracted, Frankie.”

“It’s okay. It’s okay, that’s okay, baby,” he tucks a stray curl behind her ear before shifting around to lay next to her. He settles on his side, pulling the duvet up enough to take the tent in his boxer briefs out of the equation.

She stares into the middle distance while Frankie sits with her in the silence. 

Palm still rubbing her stomach under her t-shirt.

Trying to soothe himself with her skin.

He’s losing her.

She settles down next to him, his hand settling on her ribcage, thumb rubbing soft circles into her skin.

Big green eyes settling on brown ones that are doing their best to hide panic.

When she reaches for his cheek his lids flutter closed, her cold hand a balm to his burn.

Audrey maps the contours of his face with reverent fingers. Palm curving over the roundness of his cheeks. Nails catching on his beard. Thumb tracing echoes of the joy that accumulates in the corners of tired eyes. 

She runs her index finger lightly over the scar on the bridge of his nose.

She presses a kiss to his lips.

And he offers a soft smile when he opens his eyes again.

“Frankie,” she whispers, running her thumb feather-light over his bottom lip, “do you remember what I told you. That second night?”

“You told me a lot of things that second night,” he runs his fingertips down her spine.

“But what I always come back to is—”

“You’re beautiful.”

They both whisper it at the same time.

The corner of Frankie’s lips quirk in a gentle smile that dimples one cheek.

“You’re beautiful Frankie,” she kisses his chin. “I need you to know. You’re beautiful.”

And it soothes him in the moment. Enough that his eyes start to slip closed, pulled at first by the weight in his chest. The need to shut out this reality. 

She turns in his arms to press her back to his chest and he pulls her in to him, tucking his nose against her neck.

Settling into each other like they do every night they share a borrowed bed.

And Frankie slips off, warm breath skating over her skin.

But Audrey’s heart still pounds in her ears.

_____

They shift around each other in the night.

Frankie’s legs tangling with hers.

Her fist clenching in the cotton of his shirt.

His palm cupping her warm breast. Staying there.

Audrey’s tongue slipping into his mouth.

Frankie pulling at her waist urging her on top of him.

“Baby, I need you—” he swallows hard. Unable, through the haze of sleep, to stave off the seep of apprehension into his viscera. 

Desperation.

It bleeds into the haze of his dreams and back out into reality when her weight blankets him.

He skates his nose up the side of her neck, hot puffs of breath dampening her skin before he nips at her ear, “now. Right now baby.”

Take this feeling from me.

Let me prove that you’re mine.

She sits up from where she straddles his hips, pulling her t-shirt off as Frankie rights himself to lave his tongue over one tight nipple.

Audrey wraps her arms around his neck and his hands settle over her shoulder blades before he lays her backwards, kissing a path down her form as her fingers tangle in his hair.

He feasts until her body goes taught with pleasure, every throb of her walls around his fingers a beat of reassurance to his buzzing mind.

She keens his name when she breathes again.

“I’m here, baby. I’m here,” he hurriedly tugs his boxer briefs down, pumping his thick, weeping cock.

He rubs the head of his cock through her folds before sinking in slowly, mouth dropping open a fraction with each inch that he gives her. 

Audrey’s back arches off the bed, hand flying to cover her mouth.

Frankie weights her form with his, kissing at her knuckles, begging for the moans trapped behind them.

She allows it.

Allows Frankie’s tongue into the wet of her mouth, still tasting of her.

Allows him to sit up and bring both of her legs together, holding her ankles with one massive hand as she reaches back to grip the edge of the bed. He guides one to each shoulder, fingers digging into the meat of her thighs. 

Knocking against something sacred.

And she’s trying. 

Trying not to scream for him.

Not to let slip how she needs him.

Here. Like this.

All ways. Always.

But Frankie settles one palm low on her stomach and applies pressure with the heel of it. Feeling the bulge of his cock as he fucks into her. 

A bit more pressure and the crown of his cock catches her g-spot. Over and over.

Sending sparks across her vision.

And Audrey loses it.

Composure.

Sanity.

The scream choked in the back of her throat.

The tenuous hold she had on the tide of pleasure that breaks over her now, causing frantic hands to reach for his wrist and nails to sink into his thigh.

Walls throbbing around his cock.

She’s probably woken the whole house.

Good.

Frankie’s jaw clenches through the pulsing of her cunt, thumb slipping through the slick he pulls from her core to wind against her clit.

He can’t keep the moans in now.

And so he gives them to her.

Leaning forward with one leg still over his shoulder to bite at her bottom lip.

“You’ve got one more in you,” he inhales through his teeth, “don’t you, baby? One more, come on baby.”

“Frankie,” she sobs, swallowing hard, “you know better,” she grips at the sweaty roots of his hair. “You know better than that, baby.”

And he growls from somewhere deep in his chest, sitting up enough to let her leg down.

But he lets it down across his body, slipping his cock from her heat and flipping her over onto her stomach with the momentum of it.

Audrey immediately braces herself on her forearms as Frankie thrusts back inside of her, the weight of his body falling against her not a moment after.

“I do know better,” he mashes his nose to her temple. “I know my baby likes it like this, doesn’t she?”

And it’s so sordid. The speed with which Frankie’s hips move now, skin slapping against hers. The way his tongue licks a stripe over her ear. The wet squelch of his cock through her slick.

The grunts he can’t help when he’s this close. 

Audrey grins with teeth in her bottom lip from under a cascade of black curls.

“I can feel it, you know,” Frankie purrs, beard scraping against her cheek before his nose follows suit. “Feel when I’m in that spot.” He sucks on her neck before sliding the flat of his teeth against her skin.

She lets out a sultry hum.

“Like it was made for me. So fucking tight around my cock.”

And all she can do is moan in response because he’s slowed his pace. There’s the slightest circle to his hips with every thrust.

Grinding deep—hard—as if to prove his point.

He’s doing it spectacularly.

“Jesus, Frankie,” she moans, head dropping into the space between her forearms. 

She’s warm gold in his hands, pliable and glistening. Bending with his attention. Made malleable with his want.

Something precious.

He props himself up with one arm and runs a reverent palm down her spine before fitting fingers to the curve of her waist and slipping under her hips.

She keens the moment he starts toying with her clit.

“Harder, Frankie,” she gasps with the breath that he hasn’t stolen from her ribcage.

He moans, a deep, cracked thing as he buries his face between her shoulder blades.

The snap of his hips jostles her against the mattress, slowly at first before Frankie’s rational brain shuts off.

He slips his fingers from her, reaching for her thigh and pulling it up towards her waist, fitting his knee behind it.

Hips grinding her clit against the bed.

His pace builds until his moans drown out her fractured sobs of pleasure, teeth scraping at her shoulder, her body blanketed by the breadth of his form. 

She slips one hand down to work her clit. “Frankie, yes, yes, ye—”

“C’mon, baby. Yeahhh—”

“Oh fuck. Frankie. Frankie, Frankie, Fr—” Her body bows, back colliding with his chest the moment he moves to kiss her with a open, uncoordinated mouth as her walls clench hard around him.

“‘M gonna fucking come,” he hisses in her ear. “Gonna come. Gonna—fucking—cover you with it.”

And she keens between the aftershocks and Frankie’s promise, burying her face in the tangle of sheets.

“You—yeahh—you want that? Want my come? Fuck, baby—” he chokes out.

And it takes everything he has to pull out of the grip of her cunt at the last minute, wrapping his fist around his heavy length, pumping his cock twice before thick ropes of come streak across her spine.

Frankie roars, rushing to slam his cock back inside of her, still throbbing with his release, body twitching and trembling with pleasure before he stills.

Audrey’s soft moans call him back to her. 

Fragile, wrecked things, tangled with heaving breath.

Frankie pulls out with a groan from them both as Audrey protests the loss of his heat at her back.

Until the hot wet of Frankie’s tongue slides over her skin.

He cleans her of his come with a greedy mouth, lips sucking up her spine as he does.

“Fuck,” she whispers.

Finally he returns his full weight to her, one hand splaying against her jaw and bringing her face back towards his.

He tastes of himself. 

Bitter salt and insatiable lips.

Audrey’s face drops back into the sheets when he lets her go, arching up against him with the need to feel his solid weight.

His warmth.

Frankie gently gathers her hair in one hand, peppering her neck and back with kisses before he rests his chin into the curve of one shoulder.

She’s molten now.

“W’s that okay?” He whispers.

And she’s incapable of doing anything more than letting out a throaty, satisfied hum and pressing a kiss to the scruff of his cheek.

Frankie musters enough strength to pull her with him back up to the head of the bed, tucking her against his chest, palm soothing over her back as she nuzzles her nose against his neck.

Audrey’s hazy, murmured, “you’re beautiful,” is the last thing either of them hear before sleep takes them again.

_____

THURSDAY

“Boys, we have a slight wrinkle. They’ve got three more jeeps out here than they did yesterday,” Audrey reports as she stares through a pair of binoculars from where she’s parked a mile away from the compound.

“Benny and I could slash those tires before heading in,” Santiago’s voice crackles over comms.

“Too risky and you wouldn’t have time. They’re on the opposite side of the compound from your entry point.”

“Problem is, more trucks means more men,” Benny chimes in.

“It also means unfamiliar faces. Might actually make it easier to slip in,” Frankie muses.

“I have a distraction in my back pocket, but report back when you’re in position,” Audrey radios.

“I bet you do.”

Frankie growls, “she means an RPG, Benny.”

They suffer through fifteen minutes of silence before Santi reports back. “You were right, Fish.”

“Let us walk right in,” Benny murmurs.

“Consensus seems to be they’re prepping to move the hostage in about an hour. We’ll ingratiate ourselves until then.”

“This’ll be easier than we thought, boys.”

Frankie hisses, Audrey shushes, and Santi shoots him a pointed stare.

“Don’t fuckin’ say that Benjamin.” Fish growls.

“It’s not done yet,” Audrey murmurs.

Ten minutes later, Benny asks, “Moose, did those Jeeps look armored?”

“Unfortunately for you, no.”

“Okay, we have a slight hiccup,” Benny’s voice is low. “Their planned extraction route has changed. They’re heading in the opposite direction from the airstrip.”

“Great,” Frankie mutters.

“So, my way,” Audrey chimes in.

“The planned route runs right past you, Moose,” Santiago adds.

“We could still take the risk. Break at the last minute?” Benny suggests.

“Too dangerous if those Jeeps aren’t armored. Aud can start knocking them off but they’ve got more men than we accounted for and we dunno how many vehicles they’re going to mobilize,” Fish scratches at his chin and reaches for a map.

“Moose, that Rover have a turbo on it?”

“It’s got two, Benny. But we still can’t make that run to the safehouse. The jungle’s too dense and they’ll be too hot on our tail the minute they get wise. We have to get the hostage into the chopper and Frankie’s gotta make the final run.”

And it’s like she and Frankie have the same idea at the same time.

“So, this is risky—” Fish starts.

“The beach.” Audrey says.

“Think that would give you enough space?”

“If you can be there the minute we break through.”

“I can.”

Audrey’s quiet for a moment, running through contingencies. “Okay boys, we’re gonna do a live handoff.”

“You’re not gonna stop, Aud?” Santi asks, voice jumping half an octave.

“I don’t think we’ll have time. Think you and Benny can handle that switch?”

“You hop in the bird and I can hand her up,” Benny mumbles to Santi.

“Yeah,��� Pope nods with bright eyes. “Yeah, that’ll work.”

“We’re good if you both are,” Benny reports.

“Frankie, you good?” Audrey asks.

“I’m good. Give me a five minute warning before hostage extraction, I’ll get this up and hold the area.”

“Okay. Santi and Benny, you come straight to me. No sense in taking men out if they’re headed this direction anyway, it’ll just tip them off. But that means you boys are gonna have to floor it. Give me as much lead time as you can.”

“Done.” Benny answers.

“I’ll drive. You get in the back with the girl,” Pope nods.

“Yeah.”

“Anyone have any questions?” Audrey asks.

She gets three ‘no’s.’

“Everyone clear on their role?”

She gets three ‘yes’s.’

“If anyone has any doubts, speak up now. If not, everyone confirm, individually, that this plan is a go.”

Without hesitation, everyone answers ‘confirmed.’

“Alright boys. Benny and Pope, are you both in position to start the clock?”

“Yes.”

“Okay. I’m officially marking five minutes until extraction. Frankie, get her up.”

“Roger.”

Ninety seconds later Frankie confirms he’s in the air and has cleared the airstrip.

“Benny and Pope, you’re cleared to move in accordance with the timeframe.”

They’re out and in the back of the Jeep in another seven minutes. An unknown man slips into the passenger seat thinking he’ll hitch a ride with the boys, and Benny covers the girl’s eyes and ears with two massive hands as Pope fires a silenced shot at the man’s temple before he floors the truck.

They catch up to Audrey in another two minutes.

“They’re sixty seconds behind us,” Benny blurts out as he opens the door, immediately grabbing the girl out of the backseat. “Sorry about this, sweetheart,” he mumbles as he picks her up and hurriedly transfers her into the Rover, sliding in behind her and slamming the door.

She’s quiet and pliant, but there’s panic in her eyes. 

“Santi, there’s two minutes on that,” Audrey simultaneously tosses a live charge to Santi who slaps it onto the Jeep, right over the gas tank, before he slips into the passenger seat, slamming his door as Audrey hits the accelerator.

“Frankie, we’re on the move. ETA to the beach is seven minutes.” Santiago reports.

Audrey catches the little girl’s wide brown eyes in the mirror.

“Hey Diana,” she says with far more calm in her voice than she has any right to have. “I’m Moose. This is Pope,” she gestures to Santi who turns around and offers the girl a winning smile, “and that’s Ben next to you.”

“I know all of this is a lot. But we’re here to get you home.” Santi assures her.

“You ever been on a helicopter, Diana?” Audrey asks again and the boys pick up on where she’s going with it.

“One time,” the girl answers in a soft voice.

“That’s awesome!” Benny chimes in. “Did you like it?”

She nods.

“Well, there’s a helicopter coming around just for you that’s going to fly you to your parents.”

“Okay.”

“We’re gonna help get you inside, but we’re gonna need you to be really brave, okay?” Santi says. “The guy flying the helicopter is called Catfish, he’s my best friend. And I’m going to be with you the whole time.”

She nods, eyes still wide with fear.

“We’re gonna have to move pretty fast once we get down to the beach okay?” Benny says as they hear the charge Santi set go off in the background.

“We’re gonna crawl out through there,” Pope points at the sunroof.

And she starts shaking her head ‘no.’

“Hey, Diana?”

This from Audrey.

“I just wanted to tell you that I think you’re the bravest person I’ve ever met.”

“Really?”

“I really do!”

She brightens a bit at that.

“I know you can do this. And these boys are going to keep you safe, that’s what they do best. Keep people safe. And then in less than an hour, you’ll be with your parents.” She meets the girl’s eyes in the mirror again. “I promise.”

“You pinky swear?”

Audrey laughs and reaches one gloved hand behind her.

“I pinky swear.”

And she feels a small tug at her hand.

Benny holds his pinky out and Diana wraps her small finger around it before doing the same with Santi.

“Frankie, beach in one,” Audrey reports.

“Roger,” he returns over coms and thirty seconds later they hear the thump of rotor blades. “They’re about two minutes behind you.”

“That’s your ride, Diana,” Santi flips the switch to open the sunroof as he crouches on the passenger seat.

“Diana?” Audrey asks.

“Yeah?”

“Keep your eyes shut real tight for me until Pope tells you to open them again, okay?”

And the little girl shuts her eyes and covers her ears as Audrey wrenches the wheel to the right and hits sand.

“Frankie, I’m going to aim for 60 mph, or I’ll run out of beach too quickly,” she reports.

“Roger.”

And Audrey lines the Rover up on firm sand as the thump of rotor blades grows louder. Wind and sand whip around the cabin as Santiago climbs out of the sunroof.

When Frankie gets the bird close enough, the downdraft from the rotor blades keeps sand in the cabin to a minimum, but creates a wake around the Rover.

Audrey’s only able to see about a hundred feet in front of her at any given time.

“Frankie, my vis is shit, callout if we’re gonna hit anything.”

“You’re clear for at least two miles if you hold it straight. Rock outcrop that would take some maneuvering just short of mile three.”

Two minutes. They have two minutes.

Santiago grips the roof rack in a crouch until Fish brings the helicopter skids within two feet of the truck. 

He easily launches himself onto the skids, Frankie expertly accounting for the impact. 

The bird doesn’t even rock.

Audrey chances a glance up at the chopper.

This is gonna work.

She gestures for Benny to get into position. 

He urges Diana onto the front seat, and mercifully she doesn’t put up a fight.

Benny climbs onto the center console, but the moment he sticks his head out of the sunroof, bullets start flying.

Santiago instantly reacts, laying down suppressive fire as Benny hoists himself up, hooking one foot under a bar of the roof rack, knee on sunroof glass to straddle the open space before he reaches down into the cabin, hoisting Diana up off of her seat with a hand under each arm, his back to the gunfire, shielding her.

Immediately she clings to his neck.

It’s a small blessing when bullets pause.

They don’t want to hit the girl, and Audrey mutters “thank fuck,” under her breath.

Benny assesses their angle and makes eye contact with Santiago who lays his rifle down. 

“Close the sunroof!” Benny yells over rotor blades and wind, and immediately Audrey reaches up to comply, giving Benny more space for solid footing.

It takes less than three seconds for the motor to slide glass closed, but Audrey swears it takes at least a year off of her life.

Benny’s dialed in and readjusts in an instant, standing to his full height.

Frankie and Audrey hold the vehicles dead even with each other, hurtling across the beach at highway speed.

Benny doesn’t hesitate, putting one foot on the skid of the chopper before gently loosening Diana’s hold on him. Santi puts a foot on the skid next to Benny’s and gets well within arms reach. 

Benny still holds Diana close to his body, Pope instead reaching for her.

“On three!” Benny yells, blonde hair whipping around his face.

“ONE.”

Santiago places his hands under Benny’s, making sure he has a firm grip on the girl.

“TWO.”

Benny holds her out just a little farther.

They lock eyes and both nod.

“THREE.”

Benny’s hands drop away and Santiago pulls her in tight to his chest, falling backward into the helicopter as Benny takes his foot off the skid.

“FISH, WE’RE CLEAR GET OUTTA HERE,” Benny crouches down on the roof, screaming into comms as Audrey flips the switch to open the sunroof again.

Benny drops back into the Rover as Frankie pulls hard to the right, peeling out over the ocean and out of range of the bullets that have once again started flying.

Benny reaches through the cabin to grab his rifle off of the back seat and immediately starts firing out of the sunroof as Audrey slows down enough to turn around without rolling the Rover, bringing the truck to a stop.

There’s half a mile between them and the rocks.

Thirty seconds.

She scrambles into the back seat and reaches into the trunk before slowly poking her head up in front of Benny.

Audrey shuffles to the right for clearance, stands on the back seat, and slings a metal tube up over her shoulder.

Half a second later she launches off an RPG.

Anything that remains when the smoke clears is easy work.

Benny takes out three men and Audrey picks off the tires of the one Jeep that made it through.

Everything finally falls silent, save for the muted sounds of the ocean and the crackling of fire—dulled by their ringing ears. 

Audrey reaches for the transmit button on her comms.

“Beach is clear.”

She glances back at where Benny is standing on the passenger seat behind her.

Audrey reaches out a hand.

And Benny shakes it with a laugh.

“Let’s get the fuck out of here, Benjamin.”

“Roger that, Moose. Roger. That.”

_____

Benny tries to hail Pope and Fish over comms periodically on their way back to their safehouse, but between the distance and the terrain, he doesn’t get anything back.

He tries calling and texting, but nothing gets through.

“They’ll have ditched the bird, and it’s probably four hours by car,” Audrey muses as she pulls into the safehouse drive.

“So maybe 6:30? 7?”

“Probably about that.”

“‘Kay.”

But the pauses between their words are thick with worry despite everything still going according to plan. 

They both shower and change into comfortable clothes, Audrey calling in a status report and cleanup while Benny makes hotdogs for their late lunch. 

They fall into conversation that’s far more comfortable now.

He pours Audrey a gin and soda around 5 pm when he can tell she’s still on edge. 

He fixes one for himself too and suggests they sit on the front porch.

6:30 pm comes and goes and Audrey parks herself on the hood of the Rover to light up a smoke.

Benny sits down next to her, propping sandaled feet up on the bullbar.

“Want one?” She angles her packet of Parliaments in his direction.

“Nah,” he politely shakes his head. “Don’t smoke. But you’re good, I don’t mind.”

And she huffs a laugh because Benny’s the one who followed her over here.

He tells her fight night stories to pass the time as she chain smokes, hoping to distract her enough to soothe her buzzing nerves. 

And his.

Audrey pulls a sweatshirt on to guard against the chill.

When 7:30 rolls around, Benny slips a cigarette out of the box and asks if she can give him a light.

Audrey smirks and acquiesces. 

At 8:15pm, Audrey’s phone lights up, notifying her that something has tripped the perimeter alarm.

She quickly unlocks it and holds it up between her and Benny as she presses play on the video.

It’s a car they don’t expect, and in the fading light, it’s too dark to make out who’s inside. 

Benny calmly slides off the hood and opens the Rover, tossing Audrey a rifle and grabbing a pistol for himself before quietly shutting the door. They move in silence to meet behind the truck, staring through the cabin out through the front windscreen, waiting for the car to appear.

It slips calmly into the drive as they both hold guns at the ready. 

Santiago steps out first with a smile on his face. The moment Frankie appears from behind the driver’s seat, Audrey drops her rifle and takes off running.

“Audrey,” Frankie sighs as she collides with his chest, knocking the air from his lungs. He wraps one arm around her back and cups the base of her skull, pressing her tight to him.

“The FUCK took you so long?” Benny booms as he lays his pistol on the hood.

“Stopped for coffee,” Santiago quips, giving Benny a hug and a pat on the back. “Nah, their security detail had car trouble, so we swapped them out so they could move. Frankie fixed this piece of shit up, but it took some time.”

“Gave Benny and I some time to bond,” Audrey moves to give Santi a quick hug now as Benny wraps Frankie in his arms and thumps him on the back.

“That was some real Fast and Furious shit, boys!” Benny whoops.

“Yeah it was,” Frankie returns to Audrey’s side, arm draped around her shoulders.

A smile of pride playing on his mouth.

“Y’all hungry? We’ve got hot dogs,” Benny throws a thumb over his shoulder at the house.

“Fucking starving.” Frankie laughs.

_____

Mirth and liquor flow freely for the rest of the night.

“Okay, so wait, wait. Y’all gave me shit, but Benny doesn’t have a callsign—” Audrey points at the man in question..

“Benny’s callsign is ‘Benny’,” Santi swallows a mouthful of whiskey.

“Sorry, what?”

“Well,” Frankie braces both hands on his thighs with a grin. “This one—this one ti—” but he can’t get it out without dissolving into a fit of laughter. “Benny is ‘Benny’—like Benadryl.”

“Yeah, walk me through that,” she rakes a hand through her curls.

“He got stung by a bee one day, took two Benadryl and slept through an entire training exercise.” Santi is grinning so hard that his face hurts.

“Benadryl can do that, yeah.”

“No. Babe,” Frankie laughs, resting a hand on her shoulder, “he slept through the training exercise WHILE he was out in the field.”

Benny is blushing now.

“He would come to enough to get into a helo, but then he’d fall asleep. Strapped into the seat,” Santiago gestures at his chest through howls of laughter.

“He got out of the bird, got into position on the ground with his rifle like he was about to line up a shot and fell the fuck asleep again,” Frankie wheezes, bracing his hand on Santi’s shoulder as he folds forward in his chair.

And she can’t help but laugh at the sight of Frankie having lost all composure.

“Fucking blanks flying everywhere,” Pope makes a cutting motion with his hand, “my man is OUT COLD.”

“There are pictures,” Frankie wipes at his eyes.

“Yeah, yeah, fuck you,” Benny grumbles, but there’s a smile hiding just behind his lips. “I assume you know about these two idiots.” This to Audrey.

“I do, yeah,” she smiles as she takes a sip of gin.

“You gotta tell me how you got Moose now.”

“Oh,” Santiago reaches into the pocket of his sweatpants for his phone, finding the picture before sliding it over to Benny. “She saved our asses by nailing that shot.”

“Oh, cool.”

Benny isn’t quite impressed.

“Through night vision from a mile away, Benny.” Frankie adds.

His eyebrows shoot up to his hairline now and he holds Santiago’s phone closer to his face.

“Damn, Moose. That’s sick,” he slides the phone back to Santi, “thought it was because of your tattoo.”

“YOU’VE SEEN IT?” Santiago screams.

Benny holds his hands up in front of his chest, “she had a tank top on earlier, I didn’t know it was some kind of secret.”

“It’s not, Benny. Santi just thinks it is,” she winks as one hand idly winds in Frankie’s curls.

“Unbelievable,” Santiago shakes his head.

“I like you, Moose.” Benny holds his glass up in her direction.

She taps the side of hers to his, “I like you too, Benny.”

“You do excellent work,” he swallows a sip, “clean, precise, efficient. Think on your feet. Hell of a shot. You wind this one up,” he points to Santi, “and this one is in love with you,” he gestures towards Frankie. 

And Audrey hides it in the moment, pulling her hand away from Frankie’s hair under the guise of reaching for her glass.

The truth is.

Benny’s just said the last thing she wants to hear.

next

Taglist: @harriedandharassed @missladym1981 @sarcasm-theotherwhitemeat @toomanytookas

If I've missed you, please let me know, and if you'd like to be added, I'm happy to add you!

Old chapters are hosted on the OFFS Library page. New chapters will be posted here at Ohforficsake.

Shoot me a message @ohforficsake or comment under this post if you would like to be added to the taglist for updates! Thanks so much for reading.

[evelhak]

Aaaaa, this!!! I literally cried, I am so happy to see some actual common sense!! I am so, SO tired of this trend, it's not just Rory either, there's a really unfair pattern going on where the "renaissance" on a piece of media is basically just fans ripping a protagonist to pieces for things that these fans do not hold other characters, particularly beloved antagonists and rivals, accountable for.

This video perfectly illustrates the dynamic: Rory, who tries her best to both achieve her goals and be a decent human being while doing it, who never was a perfect human if you paid attention, gets held to the standard of an angel, so every time she makes a mistake that mistake is treated as disproportionately horrible and irredeemable. Meanwhile, as a good example, Paris, who consistently treats other people horribly, gets downright babied, and how she deserved better is repeated, her own responsibility over her actions downplayed or completely ignored. Only her good qualities are remembered, and highlighted.

There's an excellent quote in the video:

"The audience loves Paris because she is so over the top that she becomes a non-character. But when you take her as a real person and judge her with the same standards as you would Lorelai and Rory, she is pretty terrible."

This. This happens with so many characters whose traits are so much that they are viewed as inherently comedic or unbelievable, so they don't count in people's eyes. Paris having a fit in her college entrance interview, yelling over the interviewers and defending eugenics, gets brushed off as "poor baby, she's clearly mentally ill, she just deserves better, she should have gotten in", while Rory, who got manipulated into an internship by the BIGGEST journalism figure just so he could tell her "she didn't have it" was JUST weak and entitled for getting upset and discouraged over it.

Paris cheating on her boyfriend for months with a college professor gets pushed under the rug because people are too uncomfortable to even acknowledge the whole thing, meanwhile Rory is THE WORST for sleeping with a married guy after she repeatedly asked him if both him and his wife agreed their marriage was over, suggested they could try counselling, and was lied to by said guy that both he and his wife knew things were over between them.

Yeah, Rory made mistakes, and definitely didn't act perfectly after either of the situations I mentioned. She was emotional and people generally make mistakes when they are. But for some reason certain characters get a free pass all the time, while it feels almost like Rory gets punished for even trying to be a good person. Like "See, I caught her making a mistake, that means she's the worst." As if trying to have morals and be decent is inherently arrogant and hypocritical. Like trying and failing is worse than not even trying. It's like, her mom and grandparents and home town expect her to be perfect, so fans did too, and now they're mad at her for being human because they put her on a pedestal. Meanwhile characters who consistently don't care about their impact on others don't get scrutinized, their actually horrible behaviour is just taken as comedy or proof of their victimhood.

Basically, people are desensitized to horrible things from certain characters, they expect it, so they don't react to it, but when Rory who is "supposed to be good" makes a mistake, it's suddenly the core of her character and all she is. Geez.

And don't get me wrong, I love both Paris and Rory. I love every character in the show. But this double standard drives me nuts. So many characters in the show have done very similar things as Rory gets accused of, some of them while feeling no remorse. Some of them have done a lot worse things that get forgiven easily.

And don't even get me started on what a hot guy with a tragic backstory gets excused for. Yeah, some things are understandable when you know the backstory. That doesn't make those things not wrong.

It's like people are obsessed with the idea that someone who appears good on the surface must be bad, and vice versa. Nuance be damned.

[hermitcraftx]

I agree with your post about hermit fans in regard to things being very popular. I’ve seen more people being angry and annoyed about scarian in the last six months than people celebrating it. Not tagging shipping is shit but it’s better than harassing people. I don’t know what was put in the water but something changed drastically and I’m glad I’m not the only one who’s seen it.

IT'S FUCKING INSANE! This fandom used to be so positive and welcoming and overall way more pleasant than some... other MCYT fandoms, but now??? I can't log on without seeing untagged negative interpretations in the main tags, can't express an opinion without getting anons calling me heterosexual sympathizers and hoping that I die, everyone has turned their back on everything that used to make this fandom really... fun? Like, I don't tag ON MY BLOG, but usually I don't maintag my shipping posts, and if I do, I tag the ship name so people can filter it.... I don't maintag duo names. What the fuck happened to make everyone so- miserable. Anons are probably going to be permanently off for me, too many people comfortable with their opinions and not comfortable with mine and desperately needing to tell me that.

And like- look. I get not liking interpretations. Personally I'm not a fan of the Double Life cheating arc because of how abusive and out of character people made Grian be, and I had to avoid ao3 for a bit because of that and filter the fucking tags. Same thing with found family dynamics. Just because you don't like something doesn't make it "overrated and popular" and just because you don't like something doesn't make it immoral or unethical either!!! People have to make everything a moral standpoint nowadays and it's really exhausting-

But that's a tirade. All over all the confessions blogs there's "scarian is overrated" despite Grian having nearly 10mil subscribers and most of them being on YouTube and considering all the hermits friends or family truthing them. Yes, there is more shipping than before- that's because Hermitcraft season 8 made it very obvious that the people on the SMP and the people IRL are very different, and it's no longer considered RPF. None of the real hermits died via moon explosion, ZombieCleo often says she's doing "lore", they make different skins, even GRIAN acknowledges that he's acting and playing a part with the permit office. Despite all that, there's STILL wars on shipping and people insisting that we're shipping real people, I fought this war on the DSMP side of things and it's SO TIRING.

DND podcast listeners, do you ship the people playing the characters? NO!!!!! Unless you do, in which case, have fun with that. I don't really care about RPF and I filtered the tags for it a long time ago, so maybe they do do that.

Every other day I see "Third life is overrated" "Last life is overrated" (LAST LIFE IS OFTEN THE LEAST FAVORITE SEASON I SEE PEOPLE SAY!), "the life series is overrated" "the cactus ring is fucking stupid" "they left the desert but we didn't" "no, THIS interpretation of scarian is bad and wrong" and like... guys. Guys. Fandom is supposed to be fun. It is not supposed to be a full time job. It is not supposed to be moral or ethical and you shouldn't feel the need to police shit. Jesus Christ, every other month there's a new fad that tumblr users flock to and once it's over everyone goes "EWWW THAT WAS LAME AND OVERRATED AND I NEVER LIKED IT ANYWAY" like.... I promise you cannibalism as an allegory for love is not mainstream you are just on Tumblr.

Like Good God. If it's so bad here go to Twitter. I'm sick of all the complaining and misery and hatred and I miss when things were fun- people are so scared of being cliche that they don't want to write things that they enjoy. Where are the coffee shop aus???? Where are the fun silly things??? Where are the 100k grimdark fics with worldbuilding??? Wheres the 500k fics that aren't even about the same characters anymore but that we love just the same??? Where are the forums and people talking to each other in comments and meeting each other that way??? Where are the roleplay servers?????? What are you all doing??????

People are scared of being judged. They want to do what everyone else is doing. They don't want to be cringe or cliche and every day I see a "cringe culture is dead" post and then someone making fun of another part of fandom, an antithesis to their previous statement. They don't want to be late to things, either. Who cares if Last Life was a couple years ago? Draw the fanart anyway!

I'm scared. Maybe I'm just old, but every post I see I notice that I get maybe a 10th in reblogs of what I do in likes, and I don't even post my art or fics to this site. Every post is like that. More and more people only like posts and they die, unseen, by everyone. More and more people misuse archive of our own's functions, treating it like it has some algorithm, when it doesn't, and it never has and hopefully never will. I see fic reuploads to "gain traction" (not how it works) and people reaching out to find RP partners (breaking TOS) and all sorts of other shit on both sites and it fucking horrifies me. I'm not even that old- I'm eighteen, and I can already tell how fandom has changed for the worst for everyone. Fandom used to be a community. Not consumption.

It's just... sad. Old fandom had PLENTY of fucking problems, and we have problems here too, but at least the positives outweighed the negatives. It's so... mean here, now. Even the happy things are mean-spirited. People treat it as if certain people have invaded this fandom space, spreading horrible opinions and ruining it for everyone, but the truth is is that shipping is always going to be a thing. It's a foundation of fandom- fandom started with housewives in the 1950s writing Star Trek fanfiction. You can never get rid of shipping. You can just interact with what you want to interact with and leave others to mind their own business.

[infiniteglitterfall]

I like most of this guy's videos. He's funny. He does good crowd work. He's Jewish and Italian. These are all good things.

I don't know what I thought was going to happen in this one. I definitely didn't expect him to create a metaphor in which Jews are furries.

I'm tired. I'm tired of the misinformation and the disinformation. So I took his furry metaphor and ran with it.

Israel's not an ethnostate. It's only about 73% furries.

You don't have to be a furry to get Israeli citizenship. It's just a little easier. Because the costume keeps you warm when those desert temperatures plummet at night.

The point where it crosses the line into antisemitism is when people start calling all furries "baby killers."

Although honestly, it seems like people will believe literally anything of actual furries. I mean, I kinda get it. I used to have a coworker whose fursona was a dolphin. I don't even think dolphins have fur. Why do I know what his fursona was? Well, mainly because he got called out for having dolphin relations in the dolphin chat when he was supposed to be doing human work.

That's not a furry problem, that's a My Old Coworker problem. But I didn't know anything about furries. I was as ignorant and biased as the rest of us.

And part of that bias with literal furries, just like with metaphorical ones, is that a lot of people are willing to believe pretty much ANYTHING of THOSE weirdos.

I mean, first a group that was founded to destroy Israel, because it thinks furries morally corrupt all societies (possibly through all the yiffing?), invades and mutilates, tortures, and burns its way across an area larger than the Gaza Strip. In one day.

And for months, while more and more horrifying details about this keep coming out, I'm simultaneously hearing all my furless friends insist that Hamas didn't kill any civilians, it didn't rape anybody, it was really just doing a really good protest. We should all be so fierce!

Since Hamas is #goals, Israel can't actually be trying to wipe out Hamas. That's not believable. It's obviously just telling civilians to get out of the way so that it can get them all in one place and flatten their humanitarian zones. (Eventually. Be patient.)

It's not that this isn't a genocide! It's just one of the slow ones!

Anyway, genocides aren't defined by NUMBERS anymore. Now, they're just defined by intent. And Israel obviously intends to wipe out all of Gaza and take the land.

That's why it destroyed all the Israeli settlements in Gaza in 2005, and made every Israeli leave the Strip. The first step in any genocide is to lull them into a false sense of security for, like, eighteen years.

I didn't hear any of the smooth-shorn talking about the pogroms in Russia last year. But now everybody wants to explain why this stuff in Amsterdam isn't a pogrom. Just like October 7.

I guess people hate Israel so much that they figure, if some Israel soccer fans act like total assholes, the best idea is to get on Whatsapp and Telegram and organize a furry hunt.

I mean, they're not wrong! As long as they're Israeli, you can post a video of yourself calling it a furry hunt. You can post a video of yourself running one of them over with your car. You can post a video of yourself body-slamming one to the ground, and all your friends curb-stomping them, or kicking their unconscious bodies. You can call them furries to their face while you beat them. You can attack bystanders who try to "help a furry."

(This goes double if they try to defend themselves. A furry defending themself is automatically seen as an attacker. It's those big costumes. They make you loom.)

You can wait till they've all gone home, protest your government having a debate about whether that was anti-furry behavior, and set an empty tram on fire while yelling "cancer furries." (A Dutch slur I wish I didn't know that basically means "fucking furries," only more so.)

You can destroy a local "street library" of Hebrew books. Then you can drive an hour home to Apeldoorn, and cover your city with stickers demanding it become "furry-free."

And nobody will believe you have an anti-furry bone in your body. Because you were so clearly getting your deeply justified revenge on the horrible soccer fans that you'd heard about.

Who, let's face it, are probably all baby-killers anyway, since a couple of years in the military is mandatory over there. So it's basically a victimless crime. With any luck, the war will wipe out antisemitism entirely. I can't think of a single antisemitic incident over the past year.

Even when some kids were drawing swastikas on the board at a local elementary school and yelling "Kill Jews" at their walk-out, a close friend who is Very Concerned About Antisemitism assured me that wasn't it. She says that "people exaggerate and lie about antisemitic incidents," and that it's all a widespread smear campaign against pro-Palestinians.

We just have to make sure people keep taking anything that WOULD be antisemitism, and aiming it at Israelis. Or Jews who think it's okay for Israel to exist. Or Jews, but in the context of hating Israel, which is probably what they actually meant, since everyone knows that Israel is a 100% Jewish ethnostate!

It's not going to be easy -- well, it's probably going to be easy. As long as they don't mistake any of us for those Bad Jews. But I believe in us. We can make this happen. We can finally live the dream. Next Year, Definitely Not In Jerusalem!

[saltydkdan]

Yo, Salt man. Decided to finally bite the bullet and dive into One Piece. Currently on Volume 4/Chapter 27 of the manga (also episode 2 of the Netflix live-action, really good ngl). I'm excited to read it, but the sheer length of the manga is extremely daunting to me, and I'm starting to wonder if it's even worth reading at this point. Dunno if you got any sort of tips or such to help someone like me through this, or at least boost morale?

Don’t worry! I felt the exact same way. The length of One Piece can feel really daunting when you start. However here is what I tell people to keep in mind:

Get to Arlong Park

This is what EVERYONE SAYS. But it really is true. Get to Arlong Park, and if you enjoy it, then you will 100% love this series. Arlong Park is the arc where One Piece starts to really become what it is known for (and in some senses Baratie too). And what’s cool is that as someone who has caught up, Arlong Park isn’t even my favorite anymore, far from it. Arlong Park made me a fan, but later stuff like Alabasta, Skypeia, and Water 7 especially made me HYPER FOCUS on the series.

Basically if you think Arlong Park and stuff like Baratie is good, it really only goes up from there, as it’s more or less a taste of what you’ll be getting as Oda develops the story. If you don’t like it tho? No harm no foul! You’re allowed to feel however you want! You can move on to something else if you feel like and that’s super okay. Though based on your current reactions I feel like you are def gonna like it LMAO.

You don’t have to binge ALL of it

You are totally allowed to pick it up and read a saga and then put it down to switch to something else for a bit. In fact, if you do find yourself getting too tired at points, def switch it up with another series, TV show, or video game! Nobody expects you to finish reading it in a month or something. It took me a full year to catch up after jumping on and off of it and I had a blast because I didn’t force it!

There’s a reason that the series is broken up into arcs and sagas! The end of a Saga specifically is meant to be a very good break point for you to do something else if you like!

And trust me, if you’re anything like me, you won’t want it to end. After I passed chapter 1,000 I had a sudden violent awakening that I was going to catch up and become a week to week reader and I got really sad LOL.

Being a One Piece reader feels rewarding!

This is something I would have loved to know going in, but reading/watching One Piece (especially nowadays) feels like an insanely rewarding experience.

I have no idea how Oda pulls it off, but there is information that is as immediate as Chapter 1 that is still relevant all these years later in Chapter 1,000+, it really feels rewarding to be into the series for so long.

I’ve never read or watched anything THIS LONG that rewards the reader like this, it’s so fun. And it’s also something that makes One Piece great to re-read or re-watch.

There are so many fun twists, turns, and reveals that are either foreshadowed, or established in a very small way early on. I can’t emphasize harder how fun and connected it makes everything feel.

I call it the opposite of Jojo’s Bizarre Adventure. Because while Jojo will constantly reset itself with a new cast and characters every arc, instead One Piece doubles down, and is still revealing massive bombshells that we’re hinted at ages ago.

The series does show it’s age at times

I don’t like ending stuff on a bad note, but I like to let people know to keep in mind that One Piece has been running for a LONG time, and this can be both good and bad.

It’s good in the sense that I think it gets better and better over time, but bad in the sense that it does feature a couple of outdated depictions, as well as “Pervy” anime-esque humor that I honestly cannot enjoy personally. Just make sure you’re aware going in because some of it has aged… horribly.

That being said though, when One Piece gets depictions right it gets them SOOOO right.

There’s a reason that there’s an ongoing joke in the community that “Luffy would have died multiple times over if not for the Queer Community” lol it’s extremely correct

Reward yourself with the side content

One of my favorite things to do, is after I caught up to a certain point in the manga, is that I rewarded myself by watching one of the One Piece Films from around that time.

It’s a great thing to use as a rewarding little checkpoint and be like “Omg now that I’m this far, I can enjoy this fun animated film without fear of spoilers”.

And while a good chunk of films are very obviously not canon and don’t clearly fit into the overall story (I.e. there is not a good space for them to canonically exist) some of them actually do fit super well, and in my opinion, even add greatly to the overall story.

A big favorite of mine, One Piece: Baron Omatsuri, fits this description like a glove. Not only does it easily fit between the sagas of Skypeia and Water 7, but it even adds to the later themes of the story, and even foreshadows certain elements later on in a super fun way! Plus it’s one of the only One Piece films to have a very experimental direction, created by the guy who made Summer Wars. It feels very different, but in a super fun way, and works as a great little treat for getting as far as you have in the manga!

Anyway, I hope that this helps you out? Remember it isn’t a race, and you can pick up and put down the series whenever you want! There’s absolutely no pressure at all.

A part of me wants to kind of make a “read/watch list” for people who get into the series based off my own recommendation/experience. Obviously everyone is going to read and watch the anime in order, but it would probably be cool to know when you can check out certain side content like Anime-only specials and animated films during your read-through.

If anybody wants that let me know! (I’ll probably end up making it on my own time anyway I have zero self control).

Anyway yeah, enjoy One Piece!

[lesbianwyllravengard]

Tired of ppl erasing Leon's flaws. Anyway, resident evil 4 remake analysis:

The funny thing with the remake is, they didn't actually write out Leon's misogyny from the og; they simply recontextualised it. He no longer says "following a lady's lead just isn't my style", but he DOES say "maybe you aren't heartless after all" to a woman who's saved his life and the life of Ashley countless of times. Hell, Ada is the reason Leon lives past Mendéz, she's the reason he finds Ashley again, she's the reason he is able to find anything in that place, and he still has the audacity to act like she doesn't care, or worse, that she's completely heartless, just because he got his wittol feewings huwt.

Leon's so selfishly caught up in making it entirely personal, even when she established that it wasn't, that he's letting his butthurt feelings literally warp his perception of her into something monstrous. He is quite literally the "one woman wronged me in the slightest way so I will distrust and despise her forever but actually it was just my entitled ass demanding more than she ever consented to give" kind of incel. All she did was kiss him in re2r, she NEVER said it meant anything, or that - fucking hell - she'd be committing to him in any way. I mean the very fact that she should have shot him to get the sample but didn't should be the biggest proof, to the audience and to Leon, that she truly cares and just didn't want him to get caught up in her work, which she actively recognises is not morally sound work.

Also, Leon never once stopped to care about or consider her own turmoil about it?? Every time they talked it was about his feelings and his sense of betrayal and "or are you just using me again", it was never about her. She cares more about him than he cares about her and it breaks my heart. He only cares about himself in this situation, he only cares about how Ada's actions affected him through his own lens, he only cares about his own hurt and doesn't stop for a second to consider hers. He doesn't see Ada as her own person, he sees her for what she could do for, or to, him. He sees her as a projection of who he wanted her to be, not as a person. And that's misogyny at its core.

And as for the fans ignoring every wrong thing Leon has ever done, and instead hating Ada for doing nothing wrong, that too is misogyny :)

Edit to add: it's most clear in how Leon treats Krauser in the exact opposite way. Despite Krauser being a power hungry maniac who killed Luis in front of Leon, Leon still appeals to Krauser's honour, he still tries to put himself in Krauser's shoes and says he "understands" the pain and betrayal Krauser must have felt. And these are all normal, natural reactions to seeing someone you used to respect and admire fall short. But the point is, he reacts this way with Krauser because he saw Krauser as a human being capable of good, whereas he only saw Ada as a projection of who he wanted her to be, and when she wasn't actually like that, he hated her for it.

Capcom's misogyny infects everything they make, and while they genuinely tried making Leon no longer misogynistic, this kinda thing still slipped through because Capcom only sees Ada as a romantic extension of Leon.

Edit again: Another thing is that just because you might think something is in character for Leon/makes sense for him to feel/act a certain way, that doesn't inherently mean he's right to. Like, Leon's an unreliable narrator a LOT of the time - anyone who has survivor's guilt like he does is gonna be. Just because you think it "makes sense" or you understand why he'd be upset, doesn't mean he's in the right to treat Ada the way he did. Leon was also understandably upset with Krauser and his actions, even saying Krauser "won't get away with this", and yet he still approaches Krauser with respect, and tries to empathise with Krauser's experiences. I just need people to understand that this double standard from Leon is obvious and misogynistic, that's all.

[just-jordie-things]

spiderman fan anon here again who yapped abt how i think ur spideygumi fic is the literal greatest spidey au of all time.. sry i hope ur not tired of hearing abt it but i just reread the fic (again) and i cant stop thinking abt what mc and megumis development would be like from here… megumi is definitely not the typical peter-parker-type with his sense of justice (as one of his figures’ packaging hilariously summarizes “i save people unequally”) which has SOO much potential for a Good fucking hero story AND new relationship dynamic. like maybe megumi tries to become kind of a more “moral” hero on his own, but shit happens, maybe the govt or police are too corrupt and he realizes he can only trust himself to bring justice to the city, a more batman-like mentality. would mc have a problem with his morality and pull away? would she agree with it and help him as a journalist? would she disagree and give him the With great power Comes great responsibility spiel, leading to him growing into a more “true” spiderman-like hero? Idfk i do not write at all but i cant turn off my comics-loving brain with all this potential!!! i also dont mean to push u to write any of this but i had to talk abt it before i Exploded

the way i wanna make this fic a 5 movie franchise now becuz OMG THE AVENUES THIS OPENS UPPP

i am a marvel girl (sorry battinson baby even u aren't my fav) so i see spiderman!gumi having a deadpool mentality but without the mouth lolol

ok here's some very small thoughts i have about what a continuation in the story would've looked like:

he tries to find a mix between the public eyes' idea of the right thing and his version of the right thing but... dammit some people just gotta suffer a bit don't they?

he sees someone get a lil too harsh with a dog and he can't just give em a lil scare. next thing he knows they're beaten beyond recognition and webbed up to a wall for the police to deal with. fuck that guy, who hurts dogs??

when the news starts to call him things like menace and people start to wonder if he's not the altruistic hero they thought he was, megumi tries to balance between the different schools of thought of justice. he has you by his side, supporting him and wishing him all the best with being the best he can be...

so when some perp he's apprehending starts spouting off some real nasty shit, megumi tries to tell himself that prison will bring him to justice. over and over in his head he tells himself that he has to let some things go...

but damnit this bigoted asshole won't shut up and megumi just doesn't see how society could possibly function with pieces of shit like this roaming around. and no, when the guy's body goes limp after a swift ninety-degree head-spinning snap to the neck, megumi doesn't feel any regret. only relief that there's one less bastard in his city.

as for you, you've always trusted in spiderman. so you're learning to place your trust in megumi, too. you hate the rare occasion when he visits you bloodied and bruised, but you hate the idea of a city without spiderman's protection even more. you've been a fan of spiderman since the first day you'd heard of the sightings. a ride or die doesn't walk away just because things are getting a little nastier out there.

a career in journalism will prove to be difficult. the truth about megumi's double life is a secret that you both understand must stay contained no matter the price. you probably bounce around a few firms, trying to find just the right place to land where you can write the truth without revealing too much. however most outlets just want to report on the crimes spiderman himself has committed, and you struggle with badmouthing your hero (and your boyfriend)

i like to think megumi laughs at the papers trying to paint him as a villain. it doesn't stress him out, it's nothing to him really. just a source of entertainment for him to read to you over dinner. between the two of you, you handle the ugly headlines far worse. but megumi likes to rile you up by reading all the worst ones to you, just to make you fuss over it all. some nights it's like you're rivals again- megumi taunting you with the latest edition of the spider-menace storytelling, chuckling when you start to crinkle your brows and spout off about how some writers are uneducated phonies or how they're ungrateful for what he's done. you never fail to go on a long winded rant followed by some chugged down water. and as always, megumi will just smirk and shake his head as he throws away said latest edition.

___

i lost wind here but i would love to hear if anyone has other thoughts too!!

[sagurus]

dcmk character opinion thingy - amuro rei?

This is in response to a post I made a few years ago inviting people to ask my opinion on DCMK characters.

So I am actually not a huge fan of Rei. To be clear I 100% see the appeal of his character, I get why a lot of people like him, I wouldn't criticize anyone for enjoying him.

For me it simply comes down to the fact that I'm tired of Gosho introducing yet more super duper competent genius characters to a series spilling over with them. And the fact he's yet another organization double agent who's actually 'one of the good guys'.

I can appreciate he's a little bit more morally grey than a lot of the other characters introduced (from what I know, anyway). But, for me, it would have been much more fun if he was a genuine agent of the org.

I've heard a rumor that I cannot source - and that I also think has been debunked anyway - that he was originally intended as an antagonist but Gosho got attached to him. Regardless of the truth of the matter, it made me think a lot about how much more interesting it would have made my experience of the story if he had, indeed, continued to play an antagonistic role.

Along with all of that, I'm just kind of irrationally annoyed about his popularity 😂 which is 100% my problem. Fun fact: I went to Japan recently and found shelves and shelves of DCMK doujinshi and I'd say with no exaggeration that Shuuichi / Rei doujinshi took up at least 90% of that.

Anyway, TL;DR, for my own silly reasons I actually do not like this character and likely never will. However, I recognize the things that do actually make him interesting to other people.

[bettathanyou]

Cedric The Sorcerer Headcanon List :

Relationship Edition 💕 (Gender Neutral)

Hi folks, it's almost Valentine's Day again. As a Betta fish I don't really care about that holiday, or most holidays really- but I do care about a very special sensational sorcerer <3 hope u enjoy! This will include sfw + slight nsfw, not too much graphic detail tho. I'll put a tag when the nsfw stuff gets listed!

Cedric would be soooo genuinely confused about flirting- he would either think you're joking, take things too literally or not see it as flirting- just you being really friendly

Once he gets it through that big ass forehead of his (/j/nm/) that you LIKE him, he will immediately freak out and berate himself for not seeing it sooner. Then try to plan an elaborate scheme to try to ask you out, in typical Cedric fashion

Courting him would include tons of body doubling, just being in his space and doing things together and listening to his rants- and teaching you about magic if you're interested

Cedric's innate way of expressing love would be through gift giving and acts of service- but of course would adapt to your love language if the ones listed above didn't align with you

Would be shy about touching you at first, but eventually he will warm up to it and soon will find any excuse to kiss you and give you a hug/cuddle

Naps together are going to be very common- he's so tired and doesn't even realize it until you make him feel safe enough to relax a little

Literally your BIGGEST fan and hypeman, for real this dude is so smitten it's ridiculous

Because of how poorly he was treated by others, he has alot of attachment issues to work though. Can be very clingy and jealous at times, but will always do his best to improve and grow with you

Would definitely say I love you first

So so SOO protective of you, he will fr curse anyone who would make you cry or feel upset- he may be a reformed villain, but would do some morally questionable things for your sake no problem whatsoever

If you feel sad and want a distraction, Cedric will go full sideshow magician and won't stop until he finds a way to make you smile

He is 100% pansexual, so your gender identity is irrelevant when it comes to attraction ((will obviously respect pronouns and call out anyone who doesn't full stop))

Once he gets over his initial shyness, he will find small ways to compliment you as much as possible

Will talk anyone's ear off if you're mentioned in conversation, he loves talking about how amazing you are and all the funny stories you two share

Doesn't care whether he's big or small spoon, he just wants you close to him

You both will have plenty of inside jokes and will reference them endlessly, even if it doesn't make sense to others

Talking to each other for hours or just sitting in comfortable silence, it's one or the other

You both will start mirroring each other's vocal mannerisms until it's just y'all constantly vocal stimming instead of talking in coherent sentences

He loves kissing you anywhere of course, some of his favorite places are your neck, shoulders, and the top of your head

Definitely aims to marry you, kids aren't on his list of goals tbh (the royal kids and Calista fr are more than enough for him 💀💀)

Cedric will read to you in bed on whatever book he's reading to help you sleep if you're having trouble

Nicknames for you would include: my dear, lovely, love, darling, sweetness, honey, and sunshine (in reference to you calling him crescent moon, you're the light that makes him shine bright :') )

Nicknames for him would include: ceddy, sweetheart, darling, handsome, mittens, (you only use that one to tease him lovingly about his gloves) and crescent moon/moon (given for his white bangs looking like crescent moons to you, secretly his favorite one and you only use it in private with him)

Cedric wouldn't exactly get used to much PDA because of anxiety and his struggle of self worth, but hand holding is negotiable (kissing each other goodbye is fine too, but only on the cheek)

In PRIVATE THO??? hoooo boy

THIS IS YOUR TW FOR THE NSFW HEADCANONS, DONT SAY I DIDNT WARN YOU

Okay now the actual list starts here-

Loves to worship your body and has a serious praise kink. Need I say more? Yes, yes I do

A whimpering mess in bed, and you eat that shit UP

Has to take breaks cuz he just won't last otherwise 💀

Will think the first time you have sex with him was a fever dream until he wakes up next to you in bed with him

Feels grateful to even have someone who desires him

Foreplay doesn't start in bed, it's like a whole set up the entire day, with being extra loving and heavy flirting

Aims to please to a fault, so getting you off is what really turns him on the most

On that note, Cedric would feel uncomfortable receiving/asking for anything for a while, but as his confidence and self worth grows he finds himself a lot more receptive to it

He's pretty vanilla when it comes to positions cuz I said so but that's because he's so attracted to you he doesn't need anything fancy to climax

What he lacks in spice he makes up for in passion. No man will make u feel more appreciated and loved and that's on period 🤭

LEWD. HAND. HOLDING. yeah. Yeah.

Loves to say your name in bed

After you both finish, heavyyyyyy aftercare. Mandatory cuddles, gazing lovingly in each other's eyes, always brings you a towel first to clean yourself up (if he isn't already doing it himself) sometimes if you both have some energy left you'll run a bath for both of you and wash up together

You asked him once what your insides felt like as a joke, he replied "like home- warm and like I fit in perfectly" and you still haven't emotionally recovered from that

Obviously a power switch, next question

Has every sweet spot MEMORIZED

that's all I got so far, but PLEASE feel free to add on in the notes

[deeply-unserious-fellow]

Just stopping by to say you are so right. I'm so tired of seeing the condescending and completely unnecessary "remember the Vees are evil uwu" comments when no one feels the need to post that shit for Alastor.

1.) No shit, every sinner that is in HELL was a bad enough person to warrant eternal punishment (this includes protagonists like Angel, Nifty, Husk, which the fandom loves to forget), and 2.) if you're going to take a performative moralistic stance of "reminding everyone they're bad people" then do it equally across the board. Especially with Alastor who has this weird free pass that I do not understand whatsoever.

I think it must be born of ignorance or something... the whole "he's a serial killer but he has a moral code" is ridiculous. There are no moral serial killers. They are vile murderers. They also tend to be complete narcissistic losers with no capacity for empathy who target the most vulnerable members of society. Even if that's not Alastor's target population his evil actions are still nothing to glorify or woobify. To be fair to Hazbin fans I think this unfortunately stems from a larger societal phenomenon of people adoring serial killers; it just sucks to see the constant lack of critical thinking and self-awareness because he's apparently "hot" (?) somehow.

Anyways I appreciated your write-up. I'm right there with you, it does get frustrating.

Y e a h it's really annoying. I think part of it is just the light hearted way murder gets treated in a lot of media nowadays? Which I don't think is necessarily a bad thing other than, like you said, kind of leading to the glorification of real serial killers. It can also lead to some WEIRD double standards in TV shows if the writers aren't REALLY CAREFUL-

Also on your first reason, while I do agree that a lot of the main cast has done some pretty heinous shit, I don't know if I agree with EVERYBODY deserving to be in Hell in the first place? Because like, the system in Hazbin is implied to be ROYALLY screwed up. I wouldn't be surprised if it was kinda Good Place esque in that, even if you weren't like, an actual goddamn criminal, if you don't fit the Gold Standard of Heaven you just get shoved in with the worst of the worst. Specifically Angel I don't think really deserves to be in Hell? Just because I think he's more of a victim of circumstance then anything else, given his mafia family and how he seems to have a genuinely good heart. But yeah no otherwise I completely agree, if some characters are getting held accountable, ALL OF THEM need to be held accountable.

[inspector-constable]

My thoughts on Barbenheimer, since these movies are now inextricably linked in my mind forever and I liked both of them more than I thought I would:

Barbie

I had a lot of thoughts on feminism, patriarchy, capitalism, and all that jazz after watching this one, but smarter people have already dissected that better than I could.

What I will say is I was hysterically laughing at almost every moment to the point where my face and abs hurt. Every time Will Farrell's gaggle of incompetent suited executive officers were on screen I just couldn't hold the giggles in. Helen Mirren's narration reminded me SO MUCH of God in Good Omens in a way that really got to me. There were parts where nobody else in the theater was laughing, but my partner and I were fighting to keep our guffaws down because the humor was just so, so on point for us. "SUBLIME."

My partner is a cis white male, and after reading the opinions of others of his kind, I am reminded once again how fucking lucky I am that he turned out to be a good one. He liked the movie even more than I did and it really resonated with him.

I wished the movie had delved a tiny bit more into how the patriarchy fucks men up too, and not just queer or neurodivergent or different men like Allan, ALL men are shoved into a box and punished for stepping out of line under the patriarchy. And I wish Allan had more screentime.

Generally I felt the movie was a bit heavy handed with its morals. Of course I completely agree with what it had to say and I don't mean to tone police. But because of my background and religious trauma I am just acutely and unfortunately aware of the kind of visceral reaction certain people will have to the way Barbie presents its themes. This was a movie that speaks to people who already agree with its central ideas. But if the writers/producers actually wanted to make anti-feminists think critically about their position, I think the message was a bit too hamfisted or condescending to accomplish that.

However I'm aware that even my thinking about this point is largely because of my anxiety and religious trauma and I am really tired of running films through a filter of "What would my dad say if he watched this movie?" I'll stop there before this becomes an entire therapy sesh

All that being said, I laughed, I cried, I spilled water on myself, I loved seeing all the pink clothes. Every actor was hysterical and beautiful. I love that movies can be bright and colorful and whimsical again. I gave the movie a 9/10.

Oppenheimer

What a shock to move on to this movie. To be honest, I am not a fan of war movies in general and I didn't know why people were so excited about this one. We probably wouldn't have gone if our friends didn't want to do the double feature.

At first, I was irritated. After coming from Barbie, having a movie totally populated by old cis white men felt annoying. There were almost no important female characters at the beginning. I noticed how Florence Pugh's character was basically just a sex object - yes she had interesting opinions, but it seemed like she was naked and riding a dick for half her scenes. Why was she naked but Cillian Murphy was fully clothed for their first sex scene? The whole movie seemed focused on a male gaze and a male perspective, par for the course for a war movie.

When Emily Blunt's character said "Can you explain quantum physics to me? It seems awfully complex." All I could think was "Can you play guitar at me?" Dead.

BUT.

As the movie went on I started to realize how well it fit with the themes Barbie focused on, but from another side. This movie is full of old cis white men, yes. They are the patriarchy, the literal men in power.

Oppenheimer actually did an incredible job examining exactly what I was left contemplating after I left Barbie - how the patriarchy destroys everyone, even the men who it benefits the most.

What a perfect example of how the competitive, egotistical, compassion-less, violent nature of toxic masculinity hurts everyone who participates in it while claiming innocent victims. The patriarchy built a weapon of mass destruction, refused to listen to calls for discretion, and murdered hundreds of thousands of civilians. And then the men, just like the Kens, began to feel their egos being threatened and they fought and backstabbed each other into obliteration.

So in the end it ended up being a marvelous commentary on similar social and political issues just like Barbie, while also being a strong anti-war movie (as Steven Spielberg would say every war movie is.) It was beautifully shot and the performances were incredible. The use of color and sound was perfect and the Trinity bomb scene (and the gym scene after) was one of the most impactful things I have ever seen. I felt like my brain was buzzing and my jaw was open for most of the movie.

However, I don't think Oppenheimer passed the Bechdel test and I was pretty bummed at the lack of female characters although Kitty's questioning scene was the most badass part of the whole movie. It was too long, too many names to remember, the timelines were confusing, and everything after the bomb test seemed to be boring political dialogue that I barely stayed awake for.

I gave it an 8/10.

[astrovian]

RE: Missing Richard. I know the feeling. The issue stems from the fact we do not know what he is doing next. We do not know whether he is going to be/ has been cast for a new project. We do not know whether he is going to write a 2nd book. AND...whether he likes it or not, some of his fans DO wonder about his private life. What he does when he has some time off. A recent trip he has been to. And, yes...his romantic life. I know it is annoying for me to bring this up, but some fans do care. 1/2

I know this is the 1st part of 2 (?), but I just really wanted to address it

It's not annoying to bring it up!! I 100% understand what you're saying. I would actually say that the vast majority of fans care about that sort of thing. I won't lie as well - from time to time, I've wondered about his private life. but I think if you are a fan of him, it is actually your moral responsibility to embrace the fact that we shouldn't know a lot about his private life. he's made it clear he doesn't want us looking either at or into it - and therefore it's up to each of us to respect his boundaries and stop those thoughts (and any possible actions stemming from them) in their tracks. I'm not saying we're always successful - just that we should at least try

but anyway, just a couple of things I think we all (including me) need to keep in mind when he disappears from social media...

One:

the thing that I think often gets lost in these sorts of conversations is that for people like Richard... his social media IS his job

and I often have to remind myself of this when I'm like, "aww man, he hasn't posted anything this month"!!

because it is easy to forget that, these days, his social media is just another part of his job. I'm not saying there aren't any actors who don't have social media... but they are rare

I'm also not saying he doesn't enjoy social media or that it's a big chore for him, but it's also not something he can really use without being very well aware of who his audience is

It's like how I'm a teacher - my actual job description is to teach & look after my students during the school day. I don't get paid for anything else beyond that part of my job

but... it's also an unavoidable aspect that my job also means that there are just certain things I can't do in public. It's actually written into my contract that my behaviour outside of the school & outside school hours (including on social media) will be "respectable". Because whether I like it or not, if a student or parent recognises me throwing up drunk & half-naked on the sidewalk at 2am, it reflects poorly on the school & their reputation. so while it's technically not my job, it is an aspect of my job that I have to be very aware of what I'm doing in public

posting content on social media is not directly Richard's job, but I would argue it is an aspect of his job nowadays that he needs to have some sort of presence there - and that he needs to ensure it's not particularly offensive or negative. he has to be very aware of what he's posting in public, which I'm sure can get really tiring & boring sometimes. I can imagine that being so aware of your public presence would be exhausting for someone so in the public eye like RA. sometimes it's just simply easier not to post than to double-check what you're putting out there

I think it's also easy to get carried away with 'yeah, he's just being himself posting whatever he wants' but like, no matter how you want to argue around it... his twitter & instagram & now tik tok is not the 100% authentic real him. it's his public-facing side. even if he's not promoting something in a post, he is well aware of who will be reading it & how it will come across - as well as the importance of simply having a presence online these days

so his social media is a very public aspect of his job. I'm not suggesting he doesn't enjoy using it - but we all need a break from our jobs & that public-facing side of life sometimes

Two:

another thing that needs to be remembered re: the fact that (you're right) this often does stem from the fact that we often have little idea what project he'll be in next & when:

confidentiality is a huge part of his job. I know you're saying "duh, obviously", but like... I would say a fair amount of the time he goes MIA is simply because he can't share where he is or what he's up to. which sucks for us (and maybe him as well), but it can't be helped. if he's preparing for a role (and often while filming a role) he tends to post less because:

a) he needs to concentrate on his job

b) sets & film/shows have very strict confidentiality rules. he simply can't give us even the tiniest clue or hint as to what he's up to until the project & his casting & other information has been publicly announced... which sometimes doesn't happen until after shooting is nearly finished - and shoots can take months

It's like with The Man From Rome - RA barely posted while shooting, while other crew members were giving us SO much content from set & production each day

it's okay to have missed him posting during that time - but (especially now that we've seen the actual call sheets from set) we know that the crew were legitimately breaking the confidentiality clause in their contracts by posting that stuff (lol - not that any of us would turn them in for that). if the production company had cared enough or noticed, they at the very least would have been given warnings about it & asked to take those posts down

RA avoids all that mess by basically going dark for a bit. I can imagine it's also hard to post things (especially pictures) during that time period without accidentally giving something away that you didn't mean to

Three:

a lack of posting is also just simply privacy: it's an unfortunate side-effect of his job that if you post your location & activities a lot, people tend to get a bit... stalker-y

I posted earlier today about all the times I had semi-near misses with him in London - when he posted indicating he had been somewhere nearby to where I also happened to have been at the same time. but tbh the fact that I even know that is... kinda really creepy to me. don't get me wrong, I would love to have had a run-in with him because holy fuck, but like... I also shouldn't know his recent locations. I don't want to actively seek the man out

and as much as we can go "well, not all fans are stalkers so he should have no problem posting stuff regularly"... the issue is we know people are awful, particularly on the internet, and we know it only takes one person out of all of his fans to recognise something in the background or some landmark near him & take things way too far and start actively seeking out where he is. so I would imagine much of what he posts about where/what he's up to is hours, if not days after he was actually there

and again, being super vigilant about that sort of thing and not letting anything slip out by accident isn't necessarily easy to do 24/7... so sometimes it's just better & easier not to post so frequently

It's perfectly fine to miss his presence on social media - heck, we all do, but I think we need to also be understanding that his social media is part of his work. and the man deserves a god-damn break from his work sometimes

and it's also uh... not actually our place to demand information about what he's up to in his career either currently or in the near future

but I do have good news for you, anon - he did confirm that he is writing (or will be writing) a second book 😉

[zingaplanet]

Why do you keep talking about the abuser John Lennon have some respect for his wife and son who he treated so poorly

Ok you know what, I never really used to answer this kind of asks but I want y'all to read this cause I'm kinda annoyed.

Firstly, specifically to the topic itself, not sure if this is a trigger ask but honestly not once in my post did i ever actually talk about lennon by himself in a hero-worshipping way? I like his music and I found his bond with his bandmates incredibly fascinating and sad, and I can surely sympathise with his tragic life story and childhood. But I do know full well he was far from a perfect guy, and never actually make claims otherwise? He himself claimed to abuse a couple of times and was definitely not a good father to Julian. I also don't like when people get beatified or at least forgiven of all wrongdoings when they die but let's face it, his 60+ years legacy and his presence as a public figure are not going away from public discussion soon, if you wanna try to cancel John Lennon then feel free?

Personally I don't wanna make arguments about cancelling public figures (so don't fcking come at me again with this). I'm not even trying to get y'all to disassociate him from his art cause I never actually gush about him personally. In fact I don't even care that much??? (Besides the fact that he was in a band that I love). There's a double-edged sword to everything innit? I know that some lennon fans might also come at me for this but honestly, i basically don't even care enough to get this involved?

Second and most importantly, I'm just so tired of people trying to tell me what I should and shouldn't do with my blog?? So many of you come to my asks everyday saying i don't like this, i don't like that, I know this is a multi-fandom blog but pls pls get that I'M DOING IT FOR ME?? Not for you or anybody else in any fandom?? I write, reblog, posts whatever I like here for MY OWN ENJOYMENT? I don't owe anybody shit and I'm not under ANY obligations to put out content that satisfy you. In fact I don't give a shit if you don't like any of my posts - tumblr for me is a fun place to go out and maybe gush about smth I wanna talk about? I'm not here on some grandiose purpose to talk about moral ethics or whatever, sometimes i can't help maybe letting that show a little in my posts but unless this blog is ran by an AI don't think i can disassociate myself and I don't really want to? which is why I stop answering some asks about my own personal political opinions.

Basically, what i'm saying is, this is a FREE space. Nobody actually forces you guys to be here? I'm not attacking you personally but honestly if any of you don't like my content JUST UNFOLLOW ME? I'm just here for good vibes really so these kind of asks are quite annoying. I'm not really going to answer these things anymore and more possibly just ignore you.

Honestly, this is 2023, let's just chill out, leave things we don't like, n let good vibes be hhh.

[tea-with-evan-and-me]

https://www.tumblr.com/enchanting-evan/715839402766647296/ok-maybe-unpopular-opinion-but-im-tired-of-seeing?source=share

It's not the fact that she congratulated him on Moe and not on Dahmer, it's that she has no problem congratulating a domestic abuser, aka. a irl shitty person in public but apparently has a big problem congratulating someone who she knows is a good person irl, but who is misunderstood and hated in the public. It's her questionable morals, the double standard and hypocrisy we complain about. Is it so difficult to understand`?

this is exactly what i said before. why is it that it would be okay for her to fear some chronically online twitter users getting their panties in a bunch over her congratulating her friend for a netflix series, but not see anything wrong with supporting a friend who has been arrested for domestic violence? IN REAL LIFE. is the inconsistency here missed on some folks? but anyway, there’s plenty of evan fans who literally don’t care that emma beat him, it’s not surprising some would not care that sarah paulson is proudly bffs with his abuser, yet too scared of backlash to congratulate evan because he played a serial killer. 🤷🏻‍♀️

[somena-libra-dawn]

Beginning with Ho-oh, ending with Lugia, huh?.

(Just some random thoughts below. Nothing important.)

Anyway about Ho-oh,

The final Japanese opening of original series, Ready Go, made a reference to Ho-oh in the lyrics, saying about 'going over seven colored rainbow'. The last DP opening also had Ash chasing Ho-oh.

About Journeys, huh? I can see everyone is disappointed since it 95% follows the game-based, e.g. Ash's fighting scene, Goh is essentially Pokemon Go (no pun intended), while Chloe is Lets Go game. After all, the anime has created their own canonity for years, i.e., anime contest being different than the game, using defensive moves for offensive.

For a new pokemon fan who started with Go or LG... well this one is probably not disappointing. (Note: probably)

.

I, myself, found 'the end message' is similar to Pokemon Evolutions. There, Oak says, “But you did well. Just look at your pokemon! The bond you share is marvelous, and you’ve found so many! With the data you’ve gathered, you’ve been helping my studies. And, besides you weren’t doing it all alone. You are a part of much larger community, Green. A world of dreams and adventures, challenges and discovery of trainers and pokemon.” Then he declares the pokedex is complete but turns out it isn’t. So Green, Trace, and Elaine set out again.

The similarity: Yeah, Ash and Goh set out to another journey on their own like how Ash says goodbye to his previous companions and they all go on their own path. The previous episode (JN135), Goh stated he wanted to leave to meet more pokemon and trainers to learn about the world more (thx subs). That means, in order to reach Mew, he intends to expand his worldview / perspective by knowing its community and world. On the other hand, Chloe started with zero interest with pokemon but slowly opens up as episodes go. I guess everyone misread her as someone who doesn’t find out anything. To be fair, her first focus episode shows her doubts in aspiration. Then the later episodes, she becomes to care and learns about it little by little, particularly about Eeevee. Yes, she hasn’t decided. She spent most of her screen time going to school and, on some occasion, joining Ash and Goh; while the two boys 100% set out to a pokemon world. So I don’t find it weird she hasn’t fully found what she wants. (Not saying school sucks.) I find her still progressing on it. At least, she doesn’t stay in her comfort zone / her slice of life daily routine, but slowly getting out of that zone. The process of doing so is usually slowly yet progressively, hence it’s time consuming. I don’t get why people assume she starts her journey as soon as she gets Eevee. Well, going on a journey might work but, given her disinterest at the beginning, it wouldn’t be easy for her. So the lesson and development from her story is to discover more. Plus, I never expected anything from Chloe except gaining development (in this case, she slowly tries to discover more by being research fellow in the boys’ stead). Since Journeys is about double protags Ash and Goh at the very beginning, I always thought Chloe as the side character that would get development (which is ok coz I’m tired of ‘girl being second/third person in the group’ trope that makes them eye-candy for the show, minus Iris and Alola girls).

In conclusion, the moral lesson to discover more is somehow fitting to be epilogue (as I pointed it works in Evolutions).

.

But then again that’s my initial thought. Keeping this post to see the change of thoughts in following years. (let’s see)