#frontier idiots

[parisoonic]

last ones i swear

[jennaispunk]

Like the Rain

Summary: Frankie has something to say....will you listen?

Pairing: Frankie Morales x f!reader

Word count:2.9k

Rating: M

Warnings/Tags: fluff, spice (I won't call it smut. I will leave the smut to all you wonderful people who write it so much better than I ever could), oral (f receiving), unprotected PIV (wrap it up), unresolved feelings, idiots in love, maybe a hint of angst. This is slightly AU: Frankie has a baby but the lady is long gone. Reader has hair long enough to stick to her face and is shorter than Frankie but no other physical description is given. Yes, I gave my darling Francisco a middle name (sorry not sorry). If I forgot anything please let me know.

A/N: This fic was supposed to be for @guiltyasdave 1.5k follower celebration but life (among other things) got in the way and it took me forever to finish this (I'm so sorry Jana!). My prompt was Frankie and kisses in the rain. This fic put me through the ringer and I hope y'all enjoy it.

Thank you: @fallingforthearch for listening to me scream and cry about this fic. @sawymredfox for being my sounding board and calming my fears about certain parts of this fic ILY bestie!!!. @pascalispretty for looking over the final product for me.

dividers by @saradika-graphics

Frankie drummed his fingers on the steering wheel of his truck, beating out an uneven rhythm matching his impatience. He’d been parked outside your house for the last thirty minutes, waiting for you to get home from work. He knew he shouldn’t be here; you’d all but asked him for space, but he couldn’t do that. The last three days had been torture, not being able to talk to you or touch you. He should have just gone straight home after work, showered, and thought this through. His heart had won out over his mind in the end, and now he waited.

The radio weather report droned on in the background, warning of the thunderstorms entering the area. The dark grey clouds looming in the distance matched his mood. He’d been so stupid. He should have just been honest about how he felt, and this wouldn’t be happening right now. Instead, he’d let his fear of not being good enough for you win out over how much he loved you.  

Thunder rolled softly in the distance, almost like a deep laughter mocking him.  Would you even talk to him? Would you even let him tell you how incredibly sorry he was for hurting you? His stomach flipped as your car finally pulled into your driveway. He closed his eyes for a moment, gathering the courage to face you and speak his truth. 

Today had been a long day for you and you didn’t even notice Frankie’s truck parked in the road in front of your house. Your eyes flicked skyward as the shadow of the clouds crossed over you. It had been hot and dry for weeks, with barely a cloud to mar the brilliant blue of the Florida skies. The precipitation was long overdue. Even with your diligent watering, the lawn was taking on the hue of a sickly Victorian child, and the sparse vegetation lining the front of your little home was left looking a little pitiful. You took a deep breath, taking the sweet, pungent aroma into your lungs. All you wanted was to shower, curl up on the couch, and lose yourself in wine and a good book while the storms washed away your pain.

You hadn’t meant to confess your love like you did. It wasn’t supposed to be blurted out in the heat of the moment. You’d wanted to wait for the perfect time, for the moment when everything was just right. But your mouth got ahead of your brain, and before you knew it, the words ‘I love you’ slipped from your lips, and everything changed. 

You couldn’t forget the look on his face when you uttered those three little words. It was like the entire world had stopped spinning on its axis. You couldn’t stop thinking about the way he looked at you, dumbfounded, mouth slightly agape like you were speaking Wookie. Your heart sank like a stone to the bottom of a lake.  Tears pricked at your eyes like a thousand tiny needles, and you ran from his apartment before he could see them fall. 

You thought he felt the same way about you, but he didn't say it back. It hurt worse than anything you’d ever felt, and you couldn’t get away fast enough. You’d spend the last few days wondering what you’d done wrong, how you’d misread everything.

“Hey!” Frankie called out as he jogged up the path.

You stopped in your tracks at the sound of his voice. It was the last one you expected to hear. You take a deep breath before turning around to face him. 

“What are you doing here, Frankie?” You ask flatly but the break in your voice gives you away.

He swallowed hard, his brown puppy dog eyes staring back at you. His lips twitch in that familiar way; the way they always do when he was working up the nerve to say something or when he was really concentrating, and your heart fluttered in your chest.

“I….I was hoping we could talk…. about the other night.”

 You scoffed lightly. That’s all you’ve thought about since it happened. That scene replayed in your head on an endless loop like a song stuck on repeat.

Your teeth ground together; the muscles of your jaw strained with the effort. “I’m not sure what else there is to say about it…. I told you that I loved you, and you couldn’t say it back. I think that says it all.”

Tears start to sting at your eyes, and you quickly turned away. The last thing you need right now is for him to see you cry. 

“Junebug, please.” 

He felt like he’d been kicked in the gut. Watching you hide your tears from him broke his heart. He’d sworn he would never make you cry, and here he was doing it once again.

“Say what you need to say, Frankie.”

 You kept your back to him. You couldn’t bear to look at him. Your teeth clamp down on the inside of your cheek.

“Can you at least look at me?” He pleaded. He needed you to listen, to let him tell you why he did what he did.

That moment was permanently seared into his brain. He would never forget the way your face fell when he didn’t respond to you. He wanted to say it back. God, he wanted to say it more than anything. He even practiced how he would say those words to you at the perfect moment in his bathroom mirror.

 You were the best thing that ever happened to him. He was at his lowest when you met. You were like a ray of sunshine when all he saw were dark clouds. You’d made him feel good again, like he wasn’t a failure. But he couldn’t make himself say it. He was shocked into silence because he didn’t think that you were there yet, and your sudden confession had caught him off guard. All those fears of being a failure had stolen his voice and he watched you run out of his life. He’d been a mess ever since. 

You hugged yourself tightly and reluctantly turned around. Your eyes glanced up at the sky, watching the mass of grey clouds inching ever closer.

Frankie lifted his hat and dragged his hand through his hair. His chest rose and fell in an uneven pattern, and he licked his lips. His fists clenched and unclenched at his sides. He had to get the words out.

“I’m sorry about what happened.” He told you. “I never meant to hurt you; I swear. That’s the last thing I ever wanted to do.”

“Well, you did!”

The tears you were trying so hard to hold inside were threatening to fall and you swallowed hard, clamping your eyes closed.

Frankie’s hand jutted out to grab yours, but he stopped just short of touching you. Maybe now wasn’t the best time. He sighed heavily and pushed his cap up, smoothing his hair before replacing it. The pained look in his eyes said it all. He knew he was an idiot. He just couldn’t say what you needed to hear.

“Babe…. I’m sorry I couldn’t say the words. I was scared.”

Your eyes snapped open. The crease between your brows deepening.

“Scared….” You asked softly. “Scared of what?”

The toe of his work boot scuffed the cement sidewalk as the thunder rumbled in the distance. His eyes darkened as his past mistakes ran through his mind….. South America….the drugs…Marisa and his little girl. He’d messed up so many things in his life.

“I’m not good enough for you.” He murmured. “You deserve so much better than me.”

Your eyes went wide. That’s what this was all about? You knew about his past but hadn’t realized how deeply it affected him.  Now you could see how much he’d kept it inside.

“Francisco José Morales! How can you even to think that?”

Your lips pressed into a thin line as you studied him.

“You are the best man I know. You’re sweet and kind. You treat me like a princess. How could I possibly do better than that?”

A crooked grin broke out on his face. Why was it that you always knew what to say? You always had a knack for bringing him out of his darkness.

Rain drops began falling, peppering the cement with little dark splotches. Goosebumps prickled your skin as the cool drops ran down your face.

“I love you….so damn much. I don’t want to fuck this up.”

 The ache in voice was palpable as the rain picked up steam, cold and wet as it soaked you both.

Without thinking, you closed the distance between you. Your body pressed against him, and you crushed your lips to his. You kissed him hard, with all the love you had. You needed him to understand that he was all you ever wanted…you couldn’t live your life without him.

He stood frozen for a moment.  That was the last thing he expected you to do. His shock was quickly forgotten as his body responded, and he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you even closer and kissing you back with equal intensity.

Your mouths mashed together, teeth clacking, both desperately trying to devour each other. His fingers tangled in your soaked hair, gripping it tightly and keeping your mouth pressed against his. 

You moaned into his mouth as his other hand grabbed a handful of your ass, pulling you tightly against the growing bulge in his khakis.

You were both oblivious to the rain pouring down on you, desperately groping and kissing each other like two horny teenagers in plain view of your neighbors.

The deafening crack of thunder combined with the bright flash of lightning was the only thing strong enough to separate you.

You both stared at each other, panting, the rain dripping off your lashes and the bill of Frankie’s ever present Standard Oil trucker hat.

“We…should go inside…” you murmured.

Frankie was on you once again when the door closed behind you. His soft tongue slid between your lips; his large hands worked at the buttons of your soaked blouse.

You grabbed him by the shirt and pulled him toward your bedroom. Your limbs tangled as you both fight to get the other’s wet clothing off, bumping into walls and bumping heads. 

Frankie tripped as he struggled to get his pants off. You giggled as he hopped on one leg and his shoulder banged into the hallway wall with a loud thud.

“You think that’s funny, Junebug? Just wait 'til I get you on that bed.”

You both fell into bed together, your wet hair soaking your sheets. Frankie descended on you, the weight of him pressing you firmly into the mattress.

He just stared down at you for a moment like he was trying to memorize your features. He smoothed the damp hair that had been stuck to your face as he lowered his face to yours, taking your lips in a slow, passionate kiss.

His mouth worked against yours slowly, his tongue parting your lips to let him in. His tongue filled your mouth with slow, languid thrusts.

His hands snaked down your naked body toward your panties and his mouth followed, leaving open mouthed kisses on your chin, down your neck and over the slope of your breasts. He stopped for a moment, taking a nipple into his mouth, sucking and rolling his tongue around the sensitive nub until it became a stiffened peak. You arched your back into him as he lavished the same attention to your other nipple. The ache between your legs grew stronger and you felt the desire pooling there, soaking your panties.

A low chuckle escaped Frankie’s lips as his mouth continued to move lower, hooking his fingers into your panties and tugging them down to bare you to him completely.

“Hermosa.” His voice was hushed, floating to your ears like the sweetest song.

God, you were the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. To him, there wasn’t a more perfect creature in this world. His heart hammered in his chest as he wondered what he ever did to deserve you. You’d been by his side through everything. You’d seen him at his best and at his worst.

 His eyes trailed down the curve of your breasts, down to the apex of your thighs, to the treasure that awaited him there that was reserved for only him. He dipped his head between your thighs, and he ate you like a man savoring his last meal. There was no time for teasing today, he had to show you just how much he loved you.

A breathy moan escaped your mouth. His lips and tongue moved in tandem, a rhythm he’d perfected that would always drive you insane. Your fingers tangled in his damp, brown curls as Frankie’s fingers dug into the soft flesh of your thighs. A hungry growl from his lips made you buck your hips into him. His tongue swirled around your sensitive bundle of nerves until you cried out his name like a prayer and came on his tongue.

Those gorgeous mocha eyes peered up at you, a satisfied smirk on his lush lips covered in your slick. A trail of sloppy kisses led him back to your mouth, his arm hooking your leg over his elbow; damn near pressing your knee to your chest. You could taste yourself on his tongue and you moaned softly into his mouth, hooking your other leg around his waist.

You would never get tired of hearing the way he groaned softly as he slid his cock inside you. Your walls stretched for him, enveloping him with your warmth. No one could split you open like him.

Frankie pressed his forehead against yours as he found his rhythm. He could live here, inside you. It felt like your body was made just for him, like a key finding its lock.

His hips began to move faster, his thrusts more urgent as you both panted against each others' mouths. He would never get enough of you. The way you felt was like heaven to him, a heaven he didn’t feel like he deserved but he would never let you go again.

No one could ever make you feel as good as Frankie. He knew your body almost better than you did. The tension began to build in your stomach and your legs began to tremble. Frankie’s large hands gripped your shoulders, pulling you down onto him even further, making you mewl loudly and arch your back into him.

He knew exactly what this meant. You were close, and he was going to get you there. His thrusts became sloppier, but I less powerful, still hitting the spot that only he could reach.

“Come on, querida.” He pants, almost desperately. The bed creaked as he pounded into you.

  “Dámelo….dámelo…..please…one more…I want to watch you come.” His eyes are fixed on you, his pupils blown, his brow furrowed in concentration.

Whatever invisible force holding you together suddenly vanished, and you saw white. Your mind is only filled with one thing…him.  You clung to him as your walls fluttered around him, whimpering his name.  He followed you a few thrusts later and spilled into you with a strangled grunt.

Your eyes finally regained focus as you both came down from your high. He looked just as wrecked as you felt…his brown curls were a mess, and his lips parted as he panted.

He pulled you close as he rolled onto his back, resting your head on his chest.

“You okay, sweetheart?”

His voice was rough and breathless. A satisfied hum left your lips as his fingers gently caressed your arm. You knew you would be a little sore in the morning, but it was worth it to have him in your bed again.

“Yeah. I’m okay, baby.”

A comfortable silence filled the room as you listened to the sounds of your breathing mixed with the patter of rain against your bedroom window. Your eyes closed as the gentle thrum of Frankie’s heart pulsed against your cheek. This is what you always wanted. This is where you were meant to be. You were content to lay here forever…until you saw his soaked khakis in a heap in your bedroom doorway.

“I’ll be right back.” You disentangled yourself from his arms, but his hand flew out to stop you.

“Where do you think you’re going?” his brow arched, and a hint of a smirk tugged at his lips.

Your head swiveled around to look at him with a crooked grin.

“Our clothes are soaked. I was going to throw them in the dryer.”

His eyes went wide. He couldn’t believe you were worried about the clothes. You weren’t going to need them any time soon, not if he could help it.

“Don’t worry about the clothes, Junebug. They can wait.”

Of course, the clothes could wait. They weren’t important, but it wasn’t in your nature to not worry about the little things.

His chest tightened as you crawled back into his arms. The feeling of completeness washed over him like the rain pouring outside.

Maybe it was an omen that it finally started to rain after all these weeks of drought. Maybe the rain was the universe’s way of washing away the hurt and past mistakes, making way for growth and a new beginning for you both. This was a chance to begin again, and he was going to spend every day making sure he didn’t blow it. He was going to give you the life you deserved.

[unsettlingg]

[dxrkvibez]

willry + cringy capcut templates, part 1

[antirepurp]

oops all omnimon but like. fighter mode sage y'know?

[theewokingdead]

The Best One - Benny Miller x f!Reader

Pairing: Benny Miller x f!Reader Summary: You and Benny are best friends, but one night together changed everything. Protecting your own heart, you decided it's best to forget. Problem is, Benny doesn't want to - and truthfully, neither do you. Word Count: 3.5k Rating: Explicit Content: Language, Santi is an asshole, idiots in love, friends to lovers, PiV sex, public sex A/N: I listen to "Best Ones" by Garrett Hedlund way too much, sparking this idea. I present...my first Benny Miller smut. Enjoy!

Masterlist

“Then she took my dick in both her hands and sucked the soul out of my body.”

Benny rolls his eyes and shifts in the booth, arms crossed stubbornly over his chest. He cannot bear to look at Santi, but he is stuck here, listening to his nonstop blabbering about his recent sexcapade. His eyes drift upwards to the light fixtures in the ceiling as he desperately tries to focus on anything other than Santi and his stories. But one thought springs into Benny's mind before he can push it away: her…down on her knees. It's a memory he had vowed to bury and never uncover again, but that hasn't stopped him from thinking about it - especially now.

She broke their hungry kiss by pushing against his chest. He tried to pull her back, but she shook her head and slowly dropped to her knees, keeping her gaze locked on his. She was too impatient to do more than tug his jeans down far enough to get what she wanted. His cock sprung free and she wrapped her delicate hands around the base before rubbing the head across her luscious lips. Fuck, she looked so beautiful. When she opened her mouth and took him in, he groaned with pleasure, her cheeks hollowing as she hungrily sucked him. He threaded his fingers through her hair and fucked her greedy little mouth, her name the only thing on his lips as he-

“What about you, Ben?”

Benny is pulled from his memory by the sound of his name. He looks to Santi, realizing he was asked a question.

“What about me?” he asks, feigning ignorance, not really in the mood to satisfy his curiosity.

“You gotten laid lately?” Santi asks.

“Well, no… I mean, yes. I mean, I’ve gotten some,” he stutters, his face going red as the words escape his mouth. He realizes he sounds like a teenager lying to his friends about having had sex.

“Oh, really?” the older man questions, his brows raising in surprise. “When’s the last time you got laid?”

“A few weeks ago, I guess,” Benny says, shrugging his shoulders.             

First, he had Santi’s curiosity. Now, he has his full attention. The man sits back in his seat, watching him with interest, as if he doesn't believe him. “Does she have a name?”

Of course, she has a name. Her name is the perfect complement to her delicate beauty, sweet and gentle. He wishes he could speak it aloud now - the sound of her name on anyone's lips is music, a beautiful melody that sends shivers down his spine.

But he can't.

Nobody at the table knows a thing about his secret encounter with her, and he promised himself that he wouldn’t tell anyone what happened between them. Not even Will. If anyone has their suspicions, Benny is oblivious to it. Besides, there’s nothing to talk about. It had been a single night of passion fueled by alcohol and desire that now belonged in the past, best left as it. She had made it clear that she wanted nothing more. In fact, it sounded like she regretted that anything even happened.

"I'm sorry, Benny. Just forget this ever happened."

Perhaps it would be easier that way; it’s already been several weeks, and it seem she has moved on. He realizes how much he had overestimated her feelings for him. She's always flirted with him, but maybe it was just innocent. That realization kills him. To him, she is everything, but to her, he's just a man – a friend.

Maybe it's best if he moves on and never speaks, never even thinks, of the night again.

But it's impossible - especially when she walks through the door right then.

You slip into the bar and look around, hoping to easily find the boys somewhere in the crowd. As expected, they’re sitting in their usual booth, beers in front of them as they seem to engage in some sort of conversation. A smile spreads across your face as you move toward them.

A warmth floods you when you notice Benny looking at you, his blue eyes shining even in the dim lighting of the bar. You bite your lip and push the memory of the night the two of you shared away. You can’t think of that right now. You can't think about that ever. You can’t think about the way his hands felt on your body, holding your wrists down…and you definitely can’t think about the way his lips felt against yours as his cock shoved every thought out of your head.

You break your gaze and push the thought out of your mind as you walk to the table, forcing yourself to remember that there will never be anything between the two of you, that you two are friends – that you’ll never be anything more than just friends.

“Hello boys,” you say, slipping into the booth next to Frankie, careful to avoid catching Benny’s eyes again. “What did I miss?”

“Benjamin here was just about to tell us about his latest encounter with some saucy señorita,” Santi informs you.

Your heart sinks as you think about Benny with another woman. All color drains from your face and your stomach twists. You know he doesn't have feelings for you, but did he really move on from that night with you that quickly?

“Oh,” you say, feigning interest, trying to keep your best poker face.

“Negative,” Benny replies harshly. “And I sure as hell ain’t about to allow this conversation go any further with a lady present.”

You furrow your brows in confusion. Sure, Benny isn't one to strut around like a peacock - that's more of Santi's thing - but he's also not one to keep tight-lipped.

Santi laughs. “A lady? Her mouth is just as filthy as yours, Ben. So, go on. Tell us more of your adventures. I’m sure she’d love to hear them."

Benny rises from his seat quicker than you’ve ever seen him move, not even in the ring, his face flushed and angry as he glares at Santi. “Back off or I swear-” he growls, tone hard and threatening

Will stands between the two men, looking at his younger brother, holding up a hand to stop him from advancing further towards the other man. “Don’t finish that sentence."

“Can we drop whatever this is, please?” you suggest. Things have been awkward enough lately. The last thing this group needs is strife between Benny and Pope too.

You watch Benny's chest rise and fall with every measured breath. You ache to reach out and touch him, to feel the warmth of his skin. He catches your eye and you quickly look away, feeling embarrassed and allowing your hands to sink into your lap.

“There's no story to tell,” he says, and you feel his glance on you before turning and walking away.

“Fuck,” Santi sighs, breaking the silence before raising the bottle in front of him and taking a sip. “He needs to save that shit for fight night.”

Frankie gives Santi a sharp whack on the back of his head, making the latter sputter out out his beer.

“Cabrón!" Frankie hisses. "No es obvio, o estás ciego?”

Fortunately, you don't catch the words. Otherwise, it would become obvious that everyone but Santi has picked up on the awkwardness between you and Benny. It really shouldn’t be a surprise that Will and Frankie suspect something happened between you two. You both have been quieter than usual lately, talk to and about each other less, and whenever your eyes meet, you both quickly look away, a telltale sign that something is amiss.

“Excuse me,” you utter before rising from the booth, moving to follow Benny outside. You open the door and search for him, spotting him making a beeline towards his car.

“What the hell was that?” you demand, trailing close behind him.

“Nothing that concerns you,” he replies harshly without losing stride.

“Really, Benny? How can that not be my concern?"

“It’s not your concern because it’s none of your business,” he snaps, whipping around to face you.

You're taken aback by his sudden hostility toward you. “How can you say that?” you question, stepping toward him. “You’re my friend, which means you're my business."

Benny rolls his eyes, which sets a fire in you.

"You’re my god damned business, Benny," you reiterate. "You always have been. I know you better than anyone, and I can tell when you’re upset. So, talk to me.”

His eyes are filled with a mixture of emotions, his face an expression that is a cross between exhaustion, hurt, anger. “I can’t talk to you about something that never happened. I mean, that’s what you want, right? To pretend it never happened?"

You freeze, his words striking you like a punch to the gut. The realization stings you, the reality of what he’s saying finally clicking in your mind. The reason he didn't want to talk about his last sexual encounter was because it was with you.

“I didn't mean it like that,” you reply, crossing your arms protectively.

“Then, can you tell me what you meant? Because clearly, I'm confused.”

You hesitate before speaking, unsure why you said the things you said the morning after. It’s clear that you can’t forget what happened, and you don't want to, but you also don't want to risk ruining your relationship with him and the others, even though it appears that you have already made a complete mess of things.

"Benny, our friendship means a lot to me and I don't want to-"

Benny snorts. “Friendship? Does this look like a friendship?" He's referring to the way things have been the last few weeks. "Our friendship changed the moment you kissed me...and it was destroyed when you ran away, my come still dripping from between your legs.”

Your mouth falls open, Benny’s harsh words hitting you like a slap across the face. You’re not sure if he’s ashamed of what happened, or upset that you’ve been denying it. Either way, you know he’s right: your friendship is fucked.

"I was scared," you confess, tears forming in your eyes. "Terrified that it would ruin us. I had to be the one to put a stop to it, to set boundaries for our friendship, because if you'd been the one to say we should just be friends, it would've broken me.” You take a breath, trying to maintain some control of your emotions. “I'm sorry, Ben. I know things will never be the same between us. If I could go back and change what happened, I would. Please. Can we at least try to move on from this?”

"No," Benny ultimately answers after a moment of silence. His voice is choked with emotion, the gravity of his words heavy in the air.

You look away from him, trying to hide your hurt, but it's too late - the tears streaming down your face speak for you.

"That night was…,” Benny begins. “It's been playing in my head every single day since then, like a movie I can't stop watching." His breathing is ragged as he continues, the intensity in his eyes growing with each passing seconds. "I know I should forget about it, and I know you want me to forget-"

"Ben, that's not-"

"But I’d kill to live that night just one more time," he speaks, his eyes wet and filled with emotion.

Your lips part in surprise as Benny's admission sinks in, and for a moment, all you can do is stare at him. The way he’s looking at you though makes you feel like the most wanted woman in the world. It's making it impossible for you to keep your walls up. You’ve wanted him for so long, it’s hard to tell how you could ever turn him away. But you were so afraid that he didn't feel the same way you do.

When you shared that one night together, you told yourself it was the alcohol, the adrenaline, the emotion of the night that pushed you into it. You told yourself a thousand different excuses for why he hooked up with you. You told yourself you both were just caught up in the moment. You told yourself it wasn’t real. You told yourself that Benny could have any woman that he wants - there was no reason for him to choose you. But now, standing before him, watching him stare at you, seeing the look in his eyes, hearing the tone of his voice, you wonder if you’ve been blind to the truth all along.

Despite all the fear and uncertainty between you two, there was something real that happened that night - something neither of you can ignore or deny any longer.

“What are you saying?” you whisper, needing to hear him speak his true feelings, plain and clear.

“I want you,” he tells you. “I’ve always wanted you. You’re beautiful and smart and funny…and you drive me fucking insane. I can’t be in the same room with you without feeling like I am seconds away from taking you right there. I can’t think about anyone else. You are it for me. You are my person…and it fucking kills me that I’m not yours.”

As you look at him, perplexed, it dawns on you that the two of you are both harboring strong feelings for one another, yet completely oblivious to that fact. Has it been this way the whole time? The flirting, the touching, the constant need to be near one another. All these years of friendship...

Laughter bubbles up within you in disbelief, spilling over and out into a fit of giggles.

“What’s so damn funny?” he questions, staring at you like you're crazy - and maybe you are.

“Don't you understand, Benny? You are mine,” you reveal, wiping your eyes in an attempt to compose yourself.

“Bullshit.”

“I’ve been in love with you for as long as I can remember,” you reveal. “Apparently we’re both too damn stupid to see what’s been right in front of us all along.”

Benny's eyes widen as he looks at you, processing your words. You can almost see the sense of relief wash over him, knowing that his feelings are reciprocated. A smile spreads across his face.

He takes a step forward, the softness in his eyes quickly turning dark. He’s standing mere inches in front of you, the heat from his body taking you by surprise as it washes over you. Your stomach whooshes, and you ache as you wait for him to kiss you, but no kiss comes.

“Say it,” he commands. "I need to hear it. Please."

You take a step closer to Benny, your eyes never leaving his. You grab hold of his button-up shirt, pulling him toward you. Meanwhile, his hands fall to your hips, as if by instinct.

“I love you.”

Benny pulls you closer to him, his lips finally meeting yours. A fire sparks inside of you and you open your mouth to meet his tongue. You’re positive that you only imagined the way his mouth felt on you before, but it can’t be anything like this. It’s like your lips remember him, yearning for him even though several weeks have passed. You moan against his mouth as you cling to him, your body desperate for his touch.

A low growl escapes Benny's lips as his mouth grazes your neck. You lean against his car, feeling intoxicated from the sensations in your body, as your hands explore his shoulders. You feel a giddy thrill, unlike anything you've ever experienced before. His kisses move from your neck to your shoulder, and his hands wander lower. But before things get too carried away, Benny pulls away suddenly and stares into your eyes. He then reaches behind him and opens the back door of his SUV.

“Get in.”

You smile, biting your lip as you slide into the back seat, Benny close behind. As soon as he closes the door, he pulls you onto his lap, and kiss you soft yet urgent. His hands journey down your body, lightly tracing down your arms, across your thighs, over your shirt. He doesn't unclothe you; instead, his palms rest on the curve of your ass as your hands push up against the fabric of his shirt, feeling the heat radiating from his skin. You grind against him, pressing yourself down onto his lap as you feel for his arousal. A groan escapes between his lips, and it turns more primal when he clasps your butt tighter. Your mouth moves hungrily against his for several bewitching seconds.

You take the initiative, starting to open his jeans. Your fingers fumble with the button and zipper before you pull down his boxer briefs and free his cock. Benny tilts his head back in pleasure as soon as a hand wraps around it, and he looks down for a moment to watch you stroke him before looking back up at you as your lips press against his. Benny whimpers into your kiss as he reaches out to find the center of your legs, caressing you through the fabric of your pants.

“Baby, please,” he begs.

You lift up and pull your pants down, just enough to expose yourself. Benny follows suit, pushing his jeans down until they are around his ankles. He wastes no time, running a finger through the folds between your legs before you can sink down on him.

“Benny!” you gasp, clutching onto his shirt.

“Now who’s the fucking tease?” he asks before sinking two fingers into you, eliciting a gasp from you. “Fuck, baby. You’re so wet.”

“Benny,” you plead, leaning your head forward until your forehead touches the top of his hat, the texture of its fabric rough against your skin.

“Tell me what you need.”

“Fuck me.”

He nods and grins. “Alright. I’m going to fuck you like you've never been fucked before."

His straightforwardness causes you to gasp. You can feel yourself dripping for him in anticipation. How could he possibly fuck you better than he did before?

"Then I’m taking you home. We'll spend the night together, make love until we pass out. When sunrise comes, I won't let you go. In fact, I plan on making love to you all over again. Got it?"

You nod vigorously, your mind whirling. Somehow, you manage a reply. “Okay.” It’s simple, but a promise that you'll never leave him again.

Benny pulls his fingers away then positions himself at your entrance. He eases himself into you, your eyes rolling back for a moment before finding his. His lips meet yours again as he slowly pushes deeper into you. You moan against his lips. His movements are smooth and slow, gentle but still raw and powerful.

Your movements match his, rising and falling, your breath in sync. You moan, Benny’s lips finding your neck. He buries his face against you, laying desperate kisses all along your skin as you ride him, faster and faster, letting the intensity build.

“You’re mine,” he rasps before nipping your ear.

“I’m yours.”

He slides a hand up your body, lifting your shirt and your bra with it, exposing your breasts. His mouth latches onto one of your nipples, his tongue swirling around the sensitive bud. You gasp, feeling your body tense. You feel that familiar tingling sensation start to consume you.

Benny unlatches then looks down at where your bodies join before looking back up at your face. "Look at you," Benny says, his voice low. "Look at you taking my cock. You're gorgeous."

You can't see yourself, but you don't have to. His gaze is burning into you, and it’s like he can see every inch of you. His eyes devour you with hunger, desire, and admiration. You feel beautiful in that moment; dirtier than anything you thought possible.

“I want to watch you come on my cock,” he tells you.

“I’m s-so close.”

Seeming to sense what you need, he moves a hand between your legs, his thumb finding the spot where you’re pulsing.

As you rock on top of him, his eyes never leave you, and the intensity of his gaze is nearly enough to send you over the edge. You can feel yourself getting closer, the anticipation building up inside you until it explodes in a shuddering climax that almost makes you forget who you are or where you are. You cry out, your breath coming in pants.

Benny presses his lips against yours as he slows his movements, and draws out your pleasure until you collapse against him, utterly spent.

You feel the heat of his body, pressed against yours, and the pleasant sense of fullness with his cock still buried inside of you. The air is filled with the smell of sex and sweat as the two of you stay there together in blissful silence for several moments before Benny speaks.

"Fuck, that was amazing," he says softly. “You're incredible. You’re perfect. We just…we have to work on our communication a bit. if we want this to work.”

You chuckle, snuggling against his chest with a contented sigh. This is what happiness feels like - warm and comforting, completely enveloping the two of you in its embrace.

As Benny's breathing begins to settle, he tightens his grip around your body slightly and whispers into your hair:

“In case it wasn’t clear… I love you too.”

[mostlysignssomeportents]

How cable monopolists tricked conservatives into shooting themselves in the face

No matter how hard conservative culture-war cannon-fodder love big business, it will never love them back. Take network policy, where rural turkeys in Red State America keep on voting for Christmas, then profess outrage when Old Farmer Comcast gets to sharpening his ax.

For two years, the FCC has been hamstrung because MAGA Senators refuse to confirm Gigi Sohn, leaving the Commission with only four commissioners. What do the GOP have against Sohn? Well, to hear them tell of it, she’s some kind of radical Marxist who will undermine free enterprise and replace the internet with tin cans and string.

The reality is that Sohn favors policies that will specifically and substantially benefit the rural Americans whose senators who refuse to confirm her. For example, Sohn favors municipal fiber provision, which low-information conservatives have been trained to reflexively reject: “Get your government out of my internet!”

Boy, are they ever wrong. The private sector sucks at providing network connectivity, especially in rural places. The cable companies and phone companies have divided up the USA like the Pope dividing up the “New World,” setting out exclusive, non-competing territories that get worse service than anyone else in the wealthy world. Americans pay some of the highest prices for the lowest speeds of any OECD nation.

For ISPs, bad service is a feature, not a bug. When Frontier went bankrupt in 2020, we got to look at its books, which is how we discovered that the company booked the one rural customers with no alternative as “assets” because they could be charged more for slower, less reliable service:

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2020/04/frontiers-bankruptcy-reveals-cynical-choice-deny-profitable-fiber-millions

We also learned that Frontier had calculated that it could make an extra billion in profit by bringing fiber to three million households, but chose not to, because it would take a decade to realize those profits, and during that time, executives’ stock options would decline in value as analysts punished them for making long-term bets.

We can bring fiber to rural America, and when we do, amazing things happen. McKee, Kentucky — one of the poorest places in America — used federal grants and its New Deal era rural electrification co-op to bring fiber to every household, using a mule called Ole Bub to run it over difficult mountain passes, and the result was an economic miracle:

https://www.newyorker.com/tech/annals-of-technology/the-one-traffic-light-town-with-some-of-the-fastest-internet-in-the-us

The only Americans who consistently say they like their ISPs are people who live in the 700+ small towns that have run their own fiber, mostly in Red States:

https://muninetworks.org/communitymap

Small wonder that rural Americans prefer muni fiber to commercial ISPs’ offerings. When Trump’s FCC Chair Ajit Pai gave them billions in subsidies to improve rural connectivity, the monopolists spent it pulling new copper lines, not fiber — which would have been thousands of times faster.

Given all that, it takes a lot to convince rural Americans that municipal fiber is bad for them. Specifically, it takes disinformation. More specifically, it takes the lie that municipal fiber would result in “government interference” in users’ communications.

Boy, is this ever wrong. Private companies are free to set their own content moderation policies, and can discriminate against any viewpoint they wish. They can and do remove “lawful but awful” speech like racist diatribes, vaccine denial, election denial, and other conservative fever-dreams.

Contrast that with local governments, who are bound by the First Amendment, and prohibited from practicing “viewpoint discrimination.” This means that if a local government allows one viewpoint on a subject, they are generally required to allow all other viewpoints on that subject. This is how we get the Satanic Temple’s excellent stunts, like demanding that towns that display Christian icons on public lands also display statues of Baphomet right next to them.

https://www.npr.org/2018/08/17/639726472/satanic-temple-protests-ten-commandments-monument-with-goat-headed-statue

When your town government runs 100gb fiber into your basement or garage, it will have a much harder time blocking you from, say, running a Mastodon instance devoted to election denial or GhostGun production than your commercial ISP will. Convincing American conservatives to hate municipal broadband was a gigantic self-own:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/01/17/turner-diaries-fanfic/#1a-fiber

Even worse is what rural America has been sold instead of municipal fiber: Starlink, the My Pillow of broadband. Starlink sells itself as blazing-fast satellite broadband, but conspicuously fails to talk up the fact that every Starlink user in your neighborhood competes for the same wireless spectrum as you, so the service can only get slower and more expensive over time:

https://www.somebits.com/weblog/tech/bad/starlink-nov-2022-data-caps.html

There’s been a concerted smear campaign against Sohn, and one of the major talking points is that Sohn is anti-cop because she sits on EFF’s board, and EFF wants to place limits on police access to commercial surveillance data. Which is wild, because one of EFF’s demands is limits on geofenced reverse warrants, where cops ask Google to reveal the identity of everyone who was in a specific place at a specific time. If you’ve heard about geofenced warrants lately, it was probably in the context of conservative outrage at their use in rounding up the January 6 insurrectionists.

Now, the primary use of these is to target Black Lives Matter demonstrators and other protestors, and EFF advocates for the normal Fourth Amendment rights that everyone is guaranteed in the Constitution. Conservative pundits didn’t give a damn about geofenced warrants until the J6 affair, and now they do — but they still insist that Sohn should be disqualified from sitting on the FCC because she shares their outrage at the abuse of private surveillance data by law enforcement.

All this raises the question: why have all these Red State senators made it their mission in life to block the appointment of an FCC commissioner who would deliver so many benefits to their constituents? It’s hard to say, of course, but Luke Goldstein has a suggestion in today’s American Prospect:

https://prospect.org/politics/democratic-majority-at-the-fcc-still-blocked/

“A torrent of lobbying money from the telecom industry has flooded Washington to block Sohn’s arrival at the FCC. AT&T, Comcast, Verizon, and T-Mobile doled out over $23 million lobbying Washington this year.”

And why would these companies spend millions to block Sohn from sitting on the Commission? Because she would help the Democratic majority pass policies that make broadband cheaper and faster for America, especially rural America where costs are highest and service is worst, and this will limit the telco monopolists’ profits.

There’s a new Democratic senate majority that’ll sit in 2023, so perhaps Sohn will finally be seated and start delivering relief to all Americans, even the turkeys who can’t stop voting for Christmas.

[Image ID: A hunter in camo firing a rifle whose barrel has been bent back to point at his own face. A muzzle flash emerges from the barrel. The hunter wears a MAGA hat. Behind the hunter is a telephone pole with many radiating lines. In the bottom left corner of the image is a 1950s-style illustration of a broadly smiling salesman, pointing at a box that is emblazoned with the logo for ALEC.]

[new-austin]

Wyll in fanon has a really bad case of everyone taking his facade at face value. My god. You do not know this guy

[raventhekittycat]

tomorrow is the day ive been stressing bout so hard oh god wish me luck

[naturallyexcessive]

I feel like nobody talks about Frontier enough they drive me insane even outside of Arcana Arcadia they’re just so good. They love each other so much

YOU'RE CORRECT. I love Siegfeld and all but dear god Frontier is so underrated. They are cowboys, they are pirates, they're free and whimsy, they are trapped and burdened and devastated by their problems that most of them hide with their joyful dispositions, they're so kind and cheery yet not afraid to be cruel and hurtful to each other for their goals but only because of and FOR Aruru, for each other. They are almost considered to not be stage girls at all, they are Frontier's trailblazers responsible for uplifting their legacy, they are truly peak found family and they make me very ill (affectionate)

[something-tofightfor]

It also makes sense the TF guys live in Florida because they all go through with Pope and Toms insane plan and (as a Floridian) people in Florida are all some degree of insane.

Ignoring the deeper aspects of military rooted sense of brotherhood and guilt related forced obligation, Pope and Tom hatch a classic insane ass Florida Man plan only in South America and Will, Benny, and Frankie go along with it beacuse they are also Floridians who are some degree of nuts. Even if they moved there from somewhere else. I used to live in Canada, Florida brain is a virus and we all catch it eventually. Also funny enough Benny would probably fit in the most beacuse his hyped up attitude is hilarious and loudly wild in situations that should be done much quieter or stealthily. Him and Frankie putting the money in the car while hes cheering like a loud ass golden retriever when on a dangerous drug cartel mission. Only Florida baby.

listen, i am CRACKING UP as I read this. (i did that florida man meme thing where you look up your birthday and florida man and see what the headline is:)

Pope and Tom's plan is a crackpot plan. There is absoluely no way it goes off without a hitch - and we see this happening even before they attempt to leave the house with Ironhead getting shot.

Their first mistake was planning on leaving people alive. (ok, the first mistake was even agreeing to break in)

The second mistake was someone not knocking Tom's stupid ass out when he wouldn't leave with the RIDICULOUS AMOUNT OF MONEY they had before they overloaded the van.

The THIRD one was them not listening to Frankie - and Frankie (as an experienced pilot) not standing up for himself about the overweight helo.

... and from there it was just a comedy of errors. NONE of them made good choices in that movie whatsoever.

Comparing Benny to a golden retriever is so goddamn spot on I can't even explain it.

"No, this isn't a sealth mission anymore, because we've shot everyone, so it's time to whoop it up because we're rich now" - Benny, probably

Thank you for sending this!

[sprawca]

it bothers me when a game character is canonically not an idiot because they way i play them? they sure are.

[windfighter]

Trust

Prompt: ”Do you trust me?”

-------

Takuya stopped. Halted in the quest for food and turned towards Kouji. Kouji raised an eyebrow.

”...I have a question”, Takuya said.

It sounded important. Kouji put his hands into his pockets, kept his gaze towards Takuya. Takuya held a hand towards Kouji.

”Do you trust me?”

Kouji stared at Takuya’s hand. Trust. Something about the question made Kouji stop. Think. He didn’t distrust them. That was an important distiction. He never distrusted anyone, just knew that he needed to be able to handle himself. Take care of everything himself. Learn everything himself. But trust?

Trust was an active choice, Kouji realized. To stop always looking behind and believe someone else would do it for you. To trust you wouldn’t get attacked from behind to begin with. He took his hand out of his pocket.

Takuya expected him to say yes. They’d fought together, fought each other, argued, shared dinner. For Takuya, trust was probably already in there.

Did Takuya trust him?

Kouji’s hand trembled. He took a step back. Did he trust Takuya? What would it mean to trust Takuya? Takuya’s hand started falling, his eyes turned sadder for every milisecond Kouji hesitated.

Did he trust Takuya to have his back? (No, not really) Did he trust Takuya to do what’s righ? (Yeah, he did and the realization shocked him) Did he trust Takuya to not give up? (...yeah, Takuya seemed stupid enough to always keep trying)

Would he trust Takuya with his dog?

Kouji swallowed. Stared at Takuya. He would, he realized. He’d trust Takuya to take care of his dog if he needed a dog-sitter. He raised his hand, grabbed Takuya’s.

”I do.”

The sadness in Takuya’s eyes disappeared, the hesitation. He grinned, squeezed Kouji’s hand. Takuya’s handshake was firm. Kouji took a deep breath, hoped his trust wasn’t misplaced. His body trembled and he pulled his hand back.

”Just don’t touch me again”, he said and started walking.

Takuya laughed, followed him. Something in the air between them had shifted and Kouji wished he could explain what. But it felt calmer, more comfortable. Trust… He’d think more about it later. When they had found food and eaten and everyone was sleeping. When no one could interrupt his thoughts.

Takuya stopped again, pointed at a tree. Apples. Kouji nodded and without a word they both started running towards it.

[papirouge]

i'd never take seriously the opinion of an anti feminism if I wanted to have an honest take about what feminism is

but when it comes with Christianism? atheist and anti Christian weirdos LOVE to shove their opinion and speak over actual Christians thinking theirs is inherently more enlightened than everyone else in the room. and the weirdest thing is that the person who sparked the conversation will find actually consider them relevant to define what Christianism is..??

that's why so many people have such a low level understanding of Christianity and keep rehashing the same stale arguments in their stupid echo chambers

[themostop]

I just started Digimon Frontiers recently. Question: does it get better? This is the worst season so far. I mean, I’m still gonna watch it cause I’m stubborn. I’m mostly just asking this to complain about the bad writing right now.

[thesilvercondor]

which is funnier, knoland truthing, or "noland doesn't know how to spell knowledge for some reason" truthing. like it's not that he's bad at spelling in general. just that one word.

oh arceus. the thing is... that probably got peer-reviewed.

all the brains are told to go pick a symbol name that matches their first initial. and noland just shows up like 'uhhhh nolledge??'

and all the brains are SO used to him being the smart one. that they all independently go 'huh, i must have been spelling that word wrong this entire time. wack.'. so every single one of them approves the word 'nolledge'.

every. single. one.