#it's more about mark but sean is mentioned

[pavlovianpanic]

and yes, the post i've been meaning to make but keep forgetting: mark and drug use.

no surprise! mark also uses drugs. or did??

his drug of choice is coke ... or was? it's cut, but he indicates in the dark room that he was fond of champagne and coke "in the 90s". based on this post, we know his timeline is actually a little wonky with LIS 1 and needs to be addressed.

i'm sure he was quite into cannabis growing up, drinking, and then ultimately kind of found his way to coke, which was big in the 80s, but also in the 90s.

1990s. The National Household Survey on Drug Abuse (NHSDA) reported that in the United States in 1999 that cocaine was used by 3.7 million people, or 1.7% of the household population age 12 and older.

additional stats moving into the 2000s:

At the height of the drug's popularity, 10.4 million people used the drug (1982). In 1985, 5.7 million people were cocaine abusers, but by 2000, this figure had dropped to 1.2 million. About one in five of these were crack cocaine users (265,000).

he mentions doing coke after shoots, indicating he was in his addiction heavily while he was independent of sean, but likely started with sean.

i think sean "had his time", but it was quick and neat, and he's more of a drinker now.

it's too risky for a man like him to be doing cocaine. he's not an artist, he's got too much to lose, and yes, men like sean absolutely do coke in power. but sean also has a very calculated way of working. i worked for a coke addict heavy in his addiction, he was always getting arrested, making erratic decisions, and overall ruining the business before he got clean.

but i do think he and sean were heavy into cocaine. mark relied on it more than sean, but sean was actively using with him (and alone). they do things much "harder" together, but still actively act autonomously. sean is just usually pulling the strings, but mark actively leaves sean, has his own career, and continues his drug use. drinking, too.

by the time we see him? little drinks are had here and there to keep him steady, he ends with a nightcap (hot tea and a liquor he's favoring). i don't think he'll go back to coke now? he'll smoke cannabis still, but you won't catch him totally blazed, make sense? he's methodical now in how he does things. smoking a joint with nathan makes him seem cool, loose, and able to be trusted while also not giving nathan anything too hard. i think he drank with rachel. it's more "mature", less "party", and he's too antiquated for that now. but he regales her of his glory days. he loves those.

i don't think mark spiraled as much as nathan actively is as nathan is an addict and mark? grew up. nathan doesn't have that chance. he doesn't always get to grow up depending on what you choose, of course, and he's not fairing better on the other side.

[bitin-and-barkin]

Intertwined Fingers

What would the aftermath of your so called death look like?

Warnings: Arthur Morgan x Reader, Gender neutral reader, he's going a bit insane ngl, implied self harm, dog symbolism, smut, fun fact: Pomade was commonly used as lube in the 1800s, Dom reader, sub Arthur, soft sex (I finally did the soft sex thing), No mentions of your genetalia, you just jerk off Arthur because you wanted to take care of him tonight, sorry probably not what the people were looking for but its fine, weirdly described sex to the point where it's not even porn, just an art piece, more yandere shit in the next part but you can smell the start of it here, overuse of the word Intertwined

READ MORE UNDER THE CUT + Pt 2 to another story, Pt 1 here, Pt 3 here

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That night in the hotel room, Arthur sheepishly asked if he could stay with you for the night.

You, of course, accepted.

After climbing into bed, he couldn't keep his hands off of you.

Well, he usually can't, always clinging to you like a koala bear. But especially not tonight.

Rubbing his hands up and down your chest. Feeling the grooves in your skin. The curves and marks. Wrapping his arms around you, nuzzling his nose into your neck.

Making sure all of his touches were gentle, as not to cause you pain.

Feeling your stomach rise and fall as you slept peacefully. Hearing your heartbeat.

Still softly sobbing, keeping it quiet so you could sleep, not daring to let go.

He felt like sinking into you in that moment.

For the first time in ages, Arthur slept peacefully. He could sleep for ages with your hands intertwined with his.

When you tried to get up in the morning, he pretended to be asleep so you'd stay with him for longer. When you tried to get up anyways?

He pretty much begged you to stay with him.

You ended up laying in bed for another hour before you finally were able to leave.

While taking you back to camp you told him about the doctors. How you already went to the one in Valentine, but they could only do so much.

He said he was gonna get a doctor to come here and properly check you out again, as he knew one that owed him some favors.

Worries of discreetness be damned.

Once you had gotten back to camp, people stared at you like they were looking at a ghost.

In fact, Sean fainted when he first saw you. They thought you were dead.

You even looked the part.

Hours had passed and it was sundown. Arthur had brought in a doctor named "Alphonse Renaud." By now, he had been in there for hours, Arthur right by his side.

His hands were soaked in blood, helping the doctor deal with everything they did to you.

The sick fucks had put nails in your legs.

Nails.

Your back was ripped to shreds, with some marks looking even like they came from whips.

They were irritated too, and Dr. Renaud guessed that they had poured whiskey into your wounds.

He was wondering how you managed to let him hold you the night before without wincing and whining out in pain.

Just imagining how much pain you must've been in, when he thought that he needed to hold you?

How much pain you must've been in when he was asking you on the ride back home if you felt okay?

He felt like the worst shit on earth.

Alphonse estimated you'd live a lifetime of numbness and pain on certain, scarred parts.

At least you weren't in pain right now.

You were currently passed out from Morphine after Arthur yelled at Swanson to help alleviate your pain, when he heard you whimper as the doctor worked.

He silently cried into his hands next to your bedside after he heard your shallow breaths.

He was scared. So fucking scared.

A 3 days passed, with Arthur watching your every movement like a hawk. He was around you 24/7. All other priorities just seemed to fade into the background.

You were fading in and out of consciousness. Going through fevers and hot flashes, scaring everybody at camp.

Whenever you were awake, you seemed to be in a trance. Muttering about things that weren't there, unable to recognize anybody. Not even your husband.

Arthur hadn't slept in that time either. Afraid that if he looked away for one second, the O'Driscolls would swoop up and take you away from him again.

He didn't even think of letting Kieran near you, your horse, or the tent you were in.

He got antsy when you got home, gaining an even shorter fuse to match. Doing everything to make the place more comfortable for you. Cleaning your bedsheets, changing your bandages. Gently talking to you about his day and asking about yours while you were asleep, that way if you woke up you wouldn't wake up alone.

Hosea insisted he needed rest. But every single time he went to bed, he couldn't sleep. Wracked with anxiety. Knowing you were just 15 feet away, safe and sound in your tent, yet still wondering where you were.

Wondering where his darling was.

He snuck into your tent later that night and sat down next to you. Coming down here just to make sure you were still breathing.

Watching your chest rise, your breaths were still as shallow as ever.

He had just gotten you back and he was already losing you again.

And with his coddling and touching, he had only made it worse.

He'd give anything to go back to the way things were.

Before you went on that shitty sniping job, god, what in fucking hell made Dutch think that was a good idea?

He'd give up all his things. He'd kill every O'Driscoll known to man. He'd break his own legs. He'd trade places with you. He'd kill himself.

Just for you to be okay.

He reached down, tracing his finger against scars that weren't there before.

He started talking softly to your sleeping body,

Saying how later he'll take you to the city and get you anything you want. He'll take you out dancing, or to the saloon, or to one of those new picture shows if you feel up to it.

How later he'll shoot Colm for what he did. Make his death slow, make him feel every ounce of pain you did. Doubled. He'll make Colm beg for mercy, then leave him to rot to death in some shithole.

How later, if that stupid Tahiti dream ever becomes realized, he'll settle down with you. Have a kid or two if you feel like it. As long as he can raise them with you.

Only you. Nobody but you.

How later, he'll build a mansion for you and you'd never have to be afraid of anyone hurting you ever again.

How he's so sorry that you had to come find him.

That you'd kill him if you died.

He heard the bed creak as he nervously chatted on and on.

Felt your fingers intertwining with his.

He turned to you, smiling.

You had awoken, and reached out to him.

He tucked your hair behind your ear.

There you were.

For the first time in a long time you were coherent. Aware. Unafraid.

And for the first time in a long time, you saw him clearly.

He took your hand and raised it to his lips, gently kissing your bruised knuckles. Asking how you felt as he did.

He looked... tired.

There were scrapes on his palms and hands, deep cutting scars. Going up and along his wrists and forearms.

Now that you think about it, when you first saw him again, his sleeves were rolled down.

He never rolled them down.

There were new gashes on his face. Along his lips and jaw. He was starting to look like John.

His cheeks were gaunt, and he had deep eyebags. As if they've been festering for months.

His hair was longer, a bit tangled too.

You're used to him being so broad, and while he still is, he looks almost underweight.

You took your other hand and reached up to his cheek, gently stroking it.

He leaned into your touch. He looked exhausted.

God, What had happened while you were gone?

He was resting his face on your hand as he held your other.

You gripped his jaw and pulled him close, softly placing a kiss on his lips.

And placing his free hand on yours, he returned it.

Bodies intertwining like a jigsaw puzzle.

He tried to pull away, wanting to give you air, but you pulled him even closer.

God, you were gonna be the death of him.

He pushed his hands under your shirt,

with you hastily undoing his belt.

Whispering to you,

"Darling, you're so pretty it hurts."

Pushing you to the bed,

placing kisses on your scars.

You pulled your hand away and placed them on his jeans, groping him through his pants.

His head whipped back, letting out a shaky moan.

Whimpering something unintelligible.

You were toying with his tits through his shirt.

Biting down, leaving hickeys along his neck.

Continuing to grope his dick, making him sport a tent in his pants.

And just looking into his eyes, and he had the look of a kicked puppy.

Just begging for you to properly touch him.

Unzipping his fly, his dick sprung out. Slapping against his stomach.

No wonder he had that look in his eyes. He'd follow you like a dog, and worship you like god. At least, it looked like he wanted to tonight.

You took his dick in your hand, pumping him up and down. Pressing your forehead against his, telling him to just relax, that you wanted to take care of him. Helping him take his shirt off as he whispered "Are you sure?" Asking you if you felt well enough to do this.

His breath hitching, he fumbled to untie his bandana before resorting to just rip the thing off entirely.

Peeling off his shirt just to feel you more. To touch you, as you pulled him close. Asking him to tell you just how much he missed you as pre-cum seeped out of his dick, slicking your palm.

You pulled forward and gently kissed his collarbone, licking your free hand and playing with his chest as you stroked him at a steady pace.

Biting down on his neck, his flesh soft between your teeth.

Only yours though. Only yours.

He slotted his head into your shoulder, and began to mumble, kissing your neck up and down.

Cradling your head in his palm.

Running his fingers across your bones, licking stripes against healed wounds.

To whimper and to whine, just like he did the day before.

Like a dog doing all the tricks it knew.

Fucking like two instruments playing in tune.

His eyes were glossed over, his hot breath puffing like smoke, and his words weren't making any sense anymore.

The sensual turning the sexual into the unintelligible, just repeating over and over,

I love you,

I love you,

I love you.

People in camp always talked shit about Arthur, how he was "Van Der Linde's Bitch." His dog, broken in like a wild horse. Obedient, pliable, perfect. But they're giving credit to the wrong man.

It was all you. Only you, Only you.

He arched back on the bed, crying your name as he came. His seed splattering across his stomach, into your hands.

Begging you not to leave him ever again.

Not even once,

Not even once,

Not even once.

Pleasure sparked behind his eyelids like a gunshot.

You hushing him with silent kisses, telling him to quiet down.

Letting him rut and sputter into your hands like putty until he finally came completely undone, and the only noise was his labored breathing, panting.

His hands trailed up your thighs, eager to return the favor. But you gingerly grabbed his palms and brought them up to your lips.

Oh so gently kissing his knuckles, just like he did for you.

His eyes were still red from crying. Months of grief released in a week.

You pulled his face close, kissing him on the cheek.

Pulling him down into bed, slotting your hips in between his.

Sleeping together,

with your hands intertwined.

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Should I keep this story going???

@yyiikes

[allzelemonz]

Boys’ Night: The Van der Linde Boys X Male Reader

Dutch Van der Linde, Arthur Morgan, Charles Smith, Bill Williamson, Micah Bell, Sean MacGuire, Kieran Duffy, Javier Esquella

Fictober Prompt: Day 31, Orgy Pronouns: None Mentioned Physical Sex: AMAB Rating: E/Smut Warnings: Orgy, threesomes, kissing, anal fingering, anal sex, oral sex, blow jobs, rough sex, voyeurism, exhibitionism, Sean’s drunken mind, marking, viagra-esc tonics, almost everyone is passed around to everyone else, Reader takes both top and bottom roles Summary: Sean has an idea that leads most of the boys in the gang to a damn fun time.

Sean, in his mildly drunken wisdom, decided that a boys’ night needs more than just poker, five finger filet, and songs. With most of the older folks and women out of camp for a special con, Sean knows his only hindrance might be Dutch. So he enlists the best sycophant he’s ever met.

“Can’t tell me it won’t be fun.” Sean grins. “All a’ us-“

“I ain’t gonna be a part a’ some invert orgy.” Micah mutters.

Sean leans closer. “Oh, really? Even if a certain cowpoke’s involved?”

Micah glares up at Sean from his seat by the scout fire, then follows the Irishman’s eyes to the filet table. There you stand, arms crossed as you watch Morgan and Marston play. And Micah might be able to turn it down, let his senses say no again, but then Dutch leans a little closer and whispers something in your ear. Micah’s head swims with lewd images of the two men he finds himself pining for in his alone time despite his best efforts.

“Fine.” He snaps, holstering his gun and glaring at Sean. “But ain’t no one ta know ‘bout this, understand that?”

Sean grins with a little chuckle. “Ya mean ‘side from the boys fuckin’ ya?”

Micah’s fists clench at his sides, but he stops himself from punching Sean. He’s in too deep at this point, half hard in his pants and more frustrated than he’s ever been. “Shut yer damn mouth, cowboy, ‘for I decide ta leave ya with blue balls.”

Sean puts his hands up, giggling to himself. “Got it, big man.”

Micah stomps off and Sean watches him carefully. The blond makes his way over to Dutch, coaxing him away from the table and back to the fire. This might be easier than he thought.

Dutch is skeptical at first, concerned about how the gang might take such a proposition. But with Micah’s easy words, Sean watches the gang leader become so much more comfortable with the idea of the gang doing this for bonding and morale.

And the word spreads fast.

Folks are a little nervous at first, shuffling and unsure. Plenty of pining goes around camp on the average day, but being given the green light is a little daunting. So, Dutch being Dutch, he makes the first move. Shedding the hat from the blond’s head, Dutch pulls Micah into a kiss by the collar of his shirt. Most of the gang watches as he walks Micah back into the filet table and lets his hands wander. Sean gets the next burst of confidence, practically lunging to kiss Lenny. John bursts out laughing when they fall onto the ground together, but he’s silenced quickly by Javier. Then Bill sheepishly cups Kieran’s face before the former O’Driscoll puts his arms over Bill’s shoulders and kisses him as if he’s been waiting to for years. It’s only yourself, Charles, and Arthur left standing in the midst of the mess, looking around at the others of the gang in various states of intimacy and undress.

Arthur clears his throat, the red of his face only getting worse as he glances around. “Well… suppose…”

You look over at him, those pretty eyes staring back at you. “You…uh, you wanna…?”

There’s a weight on your shoulder and you turn to see Charles, his other hand held out towards Arthur. The workhorse dips his head, his hat hiding his face as he steps forward and takes Charles’s hand.

“We could go somewhere a little private.” Charles suggests, nodding towards Arthur’s tent.

The thought is comforting, making your pounding heart calm a bit. Most others have simply started at their partners where they happened to fall. Only Bill and Kieran have moved behind the chuck wagon. Sean nearly has Lenny out of his pants on the ground, Javier is shamelessly grinding into John against the tree, Dutch has Micah surprisingly whimpering at the attention he gets, Charles simply leads you and a bashful Arthur away from the others.

Arthur sits on his cot, rubbing a hand down his face as he takes a breath. You don’t blame him given the circumstances.

“We don’t have to.” Charles says, sitting next to him with a kind hand on his shoulder. “Just because Dutch said it would be a good idea, doesn’t make it true.”

Arthur shakes his head. “No… I been…” He sighs. “Been wantin’ somethin; fer a while.” His hand reaches up to hold Charles’s on his shoulder, his eyes finding yours as they scrunch from a smile. “Guess I got a dirty mind.”

You chuckle lightly at the joke, happily taking Charles’s hand again as he pulls you into his lap. Charles kisses you softly, one of his hands on your waist. You gasp, pulling back slightly, when he starts to rut against you with a half-hard dick. Arthur has moved behind Charles, kissing at his neck while his hands lift up his shirt. Charles’s chest is broad and built, firm to the touch when you rest your hands on him. You watch Arthur’s hand move, twisting into your shirt to pull you forward. You’re pressed flush against Charles as Arthur kisses you over the other man’s shoulder. It’s Charles’s turn to give neck kisses now, his hands firmly holding your hips so you grind down into him.

“I want ya.” Arthur mutters against your lips. “Ya wanna fuck me, partner?”

You nod, kissing him again.

“What do you want from me?” Charles asks, his hand tilting Arthurs head so they can look at each other over his shoulder.

Arthur’s breath hitches as he looks at the man. “I… I wanna suck ya off, Charles.”

Charles smiles and that in itself is a slight. “Of course you do.”

The three of you move, hands guiding and wandering as clothes are shed. In the distance, Sean can be heard begging and groaning, there’s some curse shouted in Spanish, and the camp echos with skin slapping skin and the slurping, popping, and smacking of spit. It’s all overwhelming and you try to focus on what’s in front of you.

Arthur’s on his back, Charles nearly sitting on his chest as his dick is sucked. You’ve already spread Arthur’s legs, the tube of gun oil feeling heavy in your hand. You open it quickly, spilling half of it before getting your fingers covered and entering Arthur. In front of you, Charles throws his head back with a deep groan as his hips begin to stutter and fuck into Arthur’s mouth. You can’t help your free hand pumping yourself as you watch, your other scissoring Arthur open. It’s premature, you know it is, but you can’t take it anymore. You should stretch him more, but your dick aches in your hand and you retract your hands to grip Arthur’s hips instead.

You press into him and hear a muffled moan as Charles shivers from the vibrations it brings. Both of you still, giving Arthur time. You watch his hand grip at Charles’s hip, pulling him forward. Charles sits up, propping himself on the box behind Arthur’s cot so he can get the proper angle to fuck down into Arthur’s mouth. You start your pace, rough and fast like Charles. Arthur’s legs shake as he wraps them around your waist, his hand squeezing at Charles’s ass. You wish you could see their faces, but you can imagine. Charles’s is likely twisted in pleasure and concentration, Arthur’s might be slobbery and tear stained.

It’s Arthur that comes first, his dick untouched as it releases a flood of cum onto his stomach, a few spurts hitting Charles’s ass. Arthur’s body goes still as he whines, being used as a set of holes by now. Charles is next and you watch the bounce of his ass lose its nice rhythm as he shoots his release down Arthur’s throat. Charles seems to bury himself deep and Arthur grips his hips as he swallows what he’s given. You double your efforts, wanting to fill Arthur from both ends. You gaze falls downwards to watch yourself fuck into Arthur’s tight hole. Charles catches you off guard, tilting your head up for a kiss as he straddles Arthur’s stomach. His hand reaches down, passing your furious thrusting to fondle at your balls as they bounce off of Arthur. The heat builds fast and you release just as Charles bites at your lip.

When you let go of Arthur’s hips, he falls back down to his cot completely. Charles continues to kiss you as you pull out, smiling into it. You can hear Arthur’s labored breaths beneath you and you’re so in your own head that you don’t register the footsteps.

“Mind if I try somethin’, fellas?”

You turn from Charles to see Micah leaning against Arthur’s shaving stand. He only has his red shirt on, half buttoned, and a smirk rests on his face. Charles’s hand has yet to leave your balls and you feel him squeezing slightly as his other turns your head back to him for another kiss, silently telling you to ignore Micah.

“Aw, come on, Smith.” Micah drawls. “Lemme have a turn.”

Charles pulls back, his lips wetted and dark from all the kissing. “A turn?”

You hear Micah take a step forward and Charles moves fast. He leaves you and you nearly fall onto Arthur, only just catching yourself before collision. You look over your shoulder to watch Charles push Micah down to bend over Arthur’s weapon’s chest. A new pool of heat starts when Charles sucks on his fingers before shoving them into Micah, eliciting a moan from the older man.

“Shit…” Arthur mutters under you.

You turn to look down at him, chuckling. “Don’t think it’s what he had in mind.”

Arthur smirks. “Yeah, I doubt it.”

His hand finds the back of your neck and pulls you down for a kiss. Micah’s whimpers and curses fill the tent and you feel yourself getting hard again. Arthur grunts against you, pressing up until he brushes his dick to yours.

“‘m gettin’ too old fer this.” He mutters, blushing at his still soft dick.

Behind you, Micah gasps and you look back to watch him bury his face in his arm as Charles enters him roughly. Charles thrusts like a beast, fucking every last pathetic noise he can out of Micah. Kind of serves him right.

“C-Charlie…” Micah gasps, his voice light and breathless. “Ah! Fuck…”

Arthur hisses, his hand wrapping around his dick and trying to get himself going again. You trail your hand down, helping him stroke himself, but to no avail. After a few seconds a bottle lands beside Arthur on the cot, a tonic bottle. You look up as Arthur cranes his neck in the same direction. Standing to the side is Bill, a timid looking Kieran right behind him. Both of them are bare besides a blanket draped over Kieran’s shoulders.

“It helps.” Bill mutters, his eyes trailing over to watch Charles and Micah for a moment. “Works fer whiskey dick at least.”

Arthur looks the other outlaw up and down strangely. “Thanks.”

Bill clears his throat. “Ya wanna trade, Morgan?”

You look down at Arthur who glances between you and Kieran. He catches your nod before looking at Bill. “Sure.”

Kieran steps forward, a sheepish grin on his face. You give Arthur a final kiss before standing. As you pass him, you chance giving Kieran a kiss and he accepts it, melting into you for the few seconds it lasts. When you pull away and turn to Bill, the large man has taken himself in his hand at the sight. Your eyes catch on that motion, swallowing thickly at the size, nearly as big as Charles. You find the sense to step closer to Bill and kiss him. Behind you, Kieran squeaks from something and Arthur mumbles an apology. Bill’s hands find your hips, pulling you against him well enough to smush your dicks together between your stomachs.

Charles practically growls behind you and you hear Micah gasp again. “How’s that for a darkie, Micah?”

There’s a thud and you imagine Charles let Micah go or maybe even threw him on the ground. A few beats later, Sean calls out to Charles with a drunken shake to his voice. Bill pulls you with him, keeping his lips busy on your neck until he turns you around to bend you over Staruss’s little table. Bill fumbles, finding a tonic on the ground and pouring it over his hand before he pushes his fingers inside. You spread your legs for him, raising your ass a bit now that you’ve lost whatever care for shame you had at the start of all of this.

“Gentlemen.” Dutch greets, settling himself against the tree behind the two of you. “Don’t mind me.”

Bill’s finger’s stall for a moment, likely nervous about fucking someone in front of his boss, but he continues after a few seconds. You try not to think about Dutch watching you, feeling that same set of performance nerves. Bill fumbles more as he moves, spreading your ass cheeks apart with one hand as he guides himself inside. Both of you groan as he enters and pushes himself in fully. Bill leans forward, pressing a kiss to your shoulder before he starts thrusting. You fix your feet steady on the ground when the table under you shakes from the combined weight. Bill’s thrusts are moderate and steady, hitting deep and brushing heavenly every time.

There’s a small groan, sounding like Kieran, that makes you shiver when you think about what Arthur is doing to him. A few more thrusts from Bill makes you grip the table tighter as your legs feel shaky. Then there’s a shout of Spanish with Charles’s name mixed in. Bill’s hands wander up your body a bit, caressing your sides as he keeps up his steady fucking. A low groan reminds you that Dutch is watching and you have half a mind to look back at him, but Bill picks up his speed and you bury your face into your arm instead. Bill’s climax pumps you full, the trickling feeling distinct as his dick already starts to push the excess out with a few final thrusts.

Only a moment after Bill has stepped back there are hands on your hips. Sean pulls you to him, falling to his knees in front of you and taking you in his mouth too fast for you to think. Your hands go to his soft hair and he relents immediately, letting you fuck his mouth without question.

“Arthur!” Kieran cries somewhere in the background.

Behind you, hands grip your hips as kisses are pressed to your neck. The tickle of a mustache tells you it’s likely Javier, but you’re too occupied with fucking Sean’s willing mouth to think further. You release for the second time, letting Sean take everything you have. In the midst of your high, Javier presses inside of you and starts fucking without inhabition. His hands on your waist hold you still, his lips beginning to suck in a mark to your neck. Sean stands, grinning at you before he runs over to Arthur and all but jumps on the older man’s dick. Javier wraps his arms around you, filling your ears with mumbled Spanish that is slurred by ecstasy.

Your eyes move around camp, finding several things to admire. Bill has Micah in his lap, stroking him with one hand and fingering him with another. John and Lenny each have each other in hand as they kiss, Charles watching them from the campfire. Dutch has Kieran on the ground, fucking him roughly as he mutters about O’Driscolls but Kieran moans all the same. Arthur stares from afar, Sean bouncing on his dick as he watches the sight of Javier finally burying himself deep and mixing his cum deep inside of you with Bill’s.

“You’re so warm, cariño.” Javier mutters in your ear before he chuckles. “Who’re you seeing next?”

“Not sure.” You take a few breaths. “Haven’t seen half of them yet.”

Javier pulls himself out, causing the mixed cum to leak out. “John’s a good hole, dirty mouth too.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

You turn in time for Javier to kiss you before he heads over to Arthur, teasing words spilling out as he climbs onto the older man’s lap to replace a spent Sean. When you turn back, Dutch is a few feet away. He beckons, gesturing to the ground and some part of wanting to please your boss makes you sink to your knees without question. Dutch guides his dick to your lips and, once again, you don’t hesitate. You only get a few bobs in before Dutch clutches at your head, beginning to use you without care.

“Shit!” Bill yells, not sounding pleased. “Wagons!”

Dutch pulls you off and you turn your head to peer through the trees. Glimpses of horses, a few colorful dresses… shit indeed. Everyone scrambles, hiding in tents, pulling clothes back on, trying to clean up cum from various surfaces. You all but fall into your tent, rummaging for at least a union suit or some kind of underwear. Pants, you find pants and pull them on.

“Dutch…” Hosea calls. “What’s gone on here?”

From your tent you can see Bill hiding behind a tree, not a thing covering him. Dutch comes out of his tent, somehow fully dressed, and greets Hosea as if he hasn’t fucked half of his men in the last hour. Miss Grimshaw looks around, sniffing with a crease in her brow for a moment. She’s distracted by Tilly asking a question and you take the opportunity to grab the union suit you know to be Bill’s on the ground in front of you before running over to him in the trees.

“Owe ya.” He mutters, pulling on the covering.

You nod, turning to leave, but Bill catches your arm and pulls you closer to kiss your cheek. You give him a smile before circling around the trees, acting like you’d gone out to piss. Passing Lenny and Sean hiding out by the lake with a single fishing pole as an excuse, you sneak as best you can to Arthur’s tent. As if expecting you, a half dressed Arthur with a bulge in his pants, hands you the clothes you’d shed earlier. You dress the rest of the way next to the munitions, eyes checking for onlookers on occasion.

The camp settles, the secret kept. Everything is well and most of the boys have elected not to bring it up, others whisper and snicker about it. It’s dark when Micah sits next to you and you look at him, finding flushed cheeks for only a moment before he kisses you. It’s surprisingly soft despite the chapped and bruised lips. He pulls back, glancing to see if anyone saw before looking back at you with a sparkle in his blue eyes.

“Didn’t get the chance, cowpoke.”

[fanhackers]

Fandom/Activism

I interrupt my dive into Abigail DeKosnik’s work to note that as the United States moves deeper into its (apparently endless) election season, we’re seeing a lot of fandom-as-activism starting to emerge, as well as activism-as-fandom. De Kosnik herself was one of the early writers on fandom/activism, writing “Participatory democracy and Hillary Clinton's marginalized fandom” for the very first issue of Transformative Works and Cultures in 2008; more recently, Aja Romano wrote about how Donald Trump’s followers can be seen to be acting like a fandom for Vox: “If you want to understand modern politics, you have to understand modern fandom.” 

TWC hosted an entire guest issue on Transformative Works and Fan Activism, edited by Henry Jenkins and Sangita Shresthova; Jenkins and Shresthova also collaborated on By Any Media Necessary: The New Youth Activism (NYU, 2016) which collects essays on fan activism. Other essays on fandom/activism have been published by TWC with Alex Xanthoudakis’s Mobilizing minions: Fan activism efficacy of Misha Collins fans in "Supernatural" fandom (2020) and  Hannah Carilyn Gunderman’s Fan geographies and engagement between geopolitics of Brexit, Donald Trump, and Doctor Who on social media (2020) being recent examples. Meanwhile, Tanya Cook and Kayle Joseph are the authors of Fandom Acts of Kindness: A Heroic Guide to Activism, Advocacy, and Doing Chaotic Good (Penguin Randomhouse 2023), a guide on how to use fandom and fannish strategies to make a difference. 

Some examples of fandom/activism emerging this U.S. election season include Heroes 4 Harris: Kamala-Con  which is scheduled to happen online today, Sunday September 8, 2024, 1pm PT / 4pm ET: this is billed as “a Comic-Con for Kamala” and “the largest fandom led gathering in support of a presidential candidate in American history.” It will feature: “actors, writers, directors, and super fans of Hollywood's most inspiring heroic fandoms” and promises not just inspiration from some of our favorite stars (Mark Ruffalo, Sean Astin, Rosario Dawson and others - not to mention Henry Jenkins himself) but also breakout groups and training in “fan mobilization.”  

Meanwhile, Lynda Carter (always a Wonder Woman!) is also trying to get out the fan vote for Harris with her group Geeks & Nerds for Harris Walz (@GeekOutTheVote); this is also billed as “a fan activist campaign” and they are planning special online events, the first of which will be an online call on September 24, 2024.  As they describe on their website: “Fandom has never just been about media consumption. Fans are artists, creators, and digital ambassadors. When we share what we love, it radiates around the world. And to paraphrase the Vice President, it’s how we show them who we are. By connecting battle-tested campaign canvassing strategies to the heritage and practices of fan communities, we can encourage fans to get out the vote in key battleground states.”

Donald Trump, aside from being his own fandom with himself as fan in chief, also seems to have had some self-identified fandoms collectively organizing for him over the years - these include Fans of Kanye West, Fans of Race Car Driving, and, strange but true, Fans of the 1980s, who apparently believe that Donald Trump would also be a fan of 80s horror movies, Scritti Politti, and  the soundtrack to Pretty in Pink. (I’m not making that up; it’s on their Twitter.) That said, Mel Stanfill’s newest book Fandom is Ugly (2024) argues that, despite its popular reputation, media fandom is not essentially progressive; that in fact, “reactionary politics and media fandoms go hand in hand.” Stanfill’s book looks at the ways in which fans have organized in conservative, reactionary, or even hateful ways, from Gamergate to the collective abuse and harassment of actors in the latest Star Wars franchise. 

The discipline of fandom studies is now being used to study all different kinds of affiliations and advocacy movements, not just those based around film, tv, sports, or music. Fan studies is now applied to political and social movements. Jenkins is still a powerful voice on the relationship between fan studies and participatory democracy (whether progressive or reactionary): read this 2024 interview with him published in Communication and the Public: “The path from participatory culture to participatory politics: A critical investigation—An interview with Henry Jenkins.”  As Jenkins notes:

Part of the ethos of fandom is to ask questions—from nitpicking to imagining other outcomes, different trajectories for character arcs, and other worlds where the story might occur, all of which is expressed through fan works. I would say that fans are often more critical than the general audience in asking these questions, which makes them somewhat different from many partisans and activists I might know who rarely question their beliefs and ideological commitments. And fans are more tolerant—as an aggregate—of different interpretations than partisans are of different ideological stances. So, you could do worse in grounding a democracy than engaging with fans.

[adrealucia]

THE BIRTHMARKS 👀💞 LOOK AT THEM HEHDJJDJSJ-

Could you possibly write something fluffy about Sean's s/o showing love to his birthmarks, like kissing them or tracing over them with their finger?? I think it'd be adorable 😭✋️

THIS- I AM SERIOUSLY GOING TO SUE YOU FOR THIS anyways I decided to write this one gender-neutral <33 hope you and everyone else enjoys this as much as I did 🫶 btw I swear this is sfw but it mentions unbuttoning a shirt

Sean stood by the window, the evening sunlight casting a warm glow on his skin. His partner watched him for a moment, admiring the way the light accentuated his features, especially his birthmarks. Each one was unique, a testament to his individuality, and they loved every one of them.

"Hey," Sean said softly, noticing the affectionate gaze directed his way.

"Hey yourself," his partner replied with a smile, moving closer. They gently took his hand and guided him to sit on the edge of the bed. Sean's heart fluttered as he felt their tender touch, the warmth of their hand spreading through him like a comforting wave.

His partner's fingers traced the outline of a small, coffee-colored birthmark on his forearm. The sensation was gentle, almost ticklish, but filled with so much love that it made his breath hitch. They leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to the mark, then another, and another, moving slowly up his arm.

"Your birthmarks are like constellations," they whispered, their voice full of adoration. "Each one tells a story, and I love every single one of them."

Sean's cheeks flushed with a mix of embarrassment and warmth. He had always been self-conscious about his birthmarks, but his partner's affection made him see them in a new light. Their gentle touches and tender kisses made him feel like every mark was a cherished piece of art.

They continued their journey, tracing and kissing each mark they encountered. As they moved to his shoulder, they paused and looked into his eyes. "You're perfect, you know that?"

Sean's heart swelled. "I don't know about perfect, but...thank you. It means a lot."

His partner's lips found another birthmark, this time just below his collarbone. "Every mark is a part of you, Sean. And I love all of you."

They slowly unbuttoned his shirt, revealing more of his skin to the warm light and their loving gaze. With each exposed birthmark, they repeated the same ritual: a gentle trace with their finger, followed by a soft, lingering kiss. Their touch was reverent as if they were honoring a sacred map etched on his skin.

Sean lay back on the bed, his partner following him, continuing their tender exploration. They reached a birthmark on his chest, just above his heart. They paused, placing their hand over it, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. "This one," they said softly, "this one is my favorite. It’s right over your heart, where I can feel how much you love me."

Tears pricked at Sean’s eyes. He had never felt so seen, so valued. He reached up, cupping his partner’s face, his thumb gently brushing their cheek. "You make me feel so loved," he whispered. "Thank you for seeing me."

They smiled, leaning down to kiss him tenderly on the lips, their bodies pressed close together. "Always, Sean. I will always see you and love every part of you."

As the evening light faded into night, they continued to hold each other, their bond growing stronger with each whispered word and each gentle touch. Sean knew, without a doubt, that his partner’s love was unconditional, and for the first time, he felt truly beautiful, every birthmark a symbol of the love they shared.

[queenshelby]

Our Little Secret (Part 52)

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Warning: Infidelity, Age-Gap, Triggers, Smut

Despite Mark's persistence however, Sean declined his offer for now, wanting to win you over fair and square, but when Mara's birthday came finally around, he was in two minds about it.

It was a Saturday morning and you were up early, preparing everything for the party. Mara was in her playpen, occupied with her toys, while you were rushing around the house, making sure everything was in order for your guests.

You were dressed in a casual summer dress and your hair was tied up in a messy bun, but you still felt self-conscious when the doorbell rang, and Sean stood there with a big smile on his face. 

He had not been around Mara before but arrived early to help you with hanging  decorations and preparing the food. "Hey, you look great," he said, handing you a bunch of sunflowers making you smile softly.

"Thanks, so do you," you replied, admiring his button-down shirt and jeans even though the moment was short-lived.

You led the way into the living room where you had a designated area for the kids' party. "I thought it would be best to keep it separate from the rest of the house so we don't end up with sticky fingers all over," you chuckled to yourself.

"A room full of toddlers, huh? Sounds fabulous," Sean  joked, looking slightly nervous at the sight of the colorful balloons and animal balloon sculptures scattered around the room.

"Oh, don't worry. They're all really well-behaved, trust me. Mara is actually the most boisterous one of them all," you laughed, feeling yourself relax a little more in Sean's presence.

"That's good to know," he said, taking a deep breath with a nervous smile on his face. "So, uhm, just checking, what did you tell people about us? Because, I know that your ex's family is coming and all, so  I just don't want to cause any awkwardness or something," Sean inquired, scratching the back of his neck nervously.

"I told them that you are a friend of mine, who has been helpful lately, and that you are coming over to help me set up and all. I didn't mention anything about us being together, you know?" you told him, feeling the need to reassure him once again.

"Yeah, I figured as much. I just wanted to make sure," he said, nodding his head in response.

"I am sorry Sean, it's just, Cillian wouldn't even agree to you being here, around Mara, unless I kept this platonic and I can understand him too," you told him sympathetically, understanding the frustration he was feeling.

"Why do you care so much about what he wants

, though? Surely he should be happy for you, if you have found someone else that you like?" he asked, a slight note of confusion in his voice.

"Sometimes, it's complicated Sean. Cillian and I are working through things and, to tell you the truth, since you and me aren't in a relationship, I too want to keep this platonic for Mara's sake. It would just confuse her, you know," you  tried to explain, being as honest as you could.

Sean didn't seem totally satisfied with your answer, but he understood where you were coming from and decided to drop the subject for now. You both worked in silence for a while, hanging decorations and setting up tables, but there was an underlying tension between you.

As you were arranging the food on the table, the doorbell rang and you felt your heart skip a beat at the thought of Cillian's mother arriving. However, it was just your best friend Emma. 

"Where is my favorite Babygirl?" she  grinned, taking Mara from her playpen and blowing raspberries on her chubby cheeks.

You couldn't help but laugh at the sight of your best friend, who had known you since you were in high school, playing with Mara. You two had been through so much together and you were grateful to have her in your life.

"I have a super cool present for you,"  she winked, pulling a wrapped gift from her bag.

"Oh my god, Emma, you didn't have to. But I am so excited to see what it is," you grinned, helping Mara opening her first present for the day, inside of which was a beautiful stuffed giraffe  , complete with a pair of pink and white crocheted booties.

"Gigi," Mara smiled, which was what she had called the giraffes at the zoo , her favorite animal.

"I know. Isn't she beautiful?" she said, pointing at the stuffed animal in Mara's arms, already covered with enthusiastic kisses from your daughter.

"Best friend ever," you smiled, hugging Emma tightly. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," Emma said warmly before turning to Sean, introducing herself for the second time around, the first time having been at the nightclub where you had met him.

"Is Cillian okay with this?"  Emma asked, eyeing Sean up and down.

"Yes, I cleared it with him," you told her which is when, again, the doorbell rang and more guests  began to arrive one by one.

Sean remained helpful and kind, keeping his distance from your friends but assisting where needed. You watched him from across the room as he chatted with some people, sipping on his beer, wearing a polite smile on his face. He looked so at ease that you almost forgot about your complicated arrangement until, an hour into the party, the door went off once more.

"I will get it," Sean offered, seeing how busy you were with Mara and her toddler friends.  You nodded appreciatively, relieved to have some extra help at the party. As he opened the door, he was greeted by the sight of Cillian who was meant to be in the UK, filming. 

Surprised, Sean took a step back while Cillian stood in the doorway, his eyes narrowed as he looked at Sean.

"Sean," Cillian said with restrained hostility as he walked inside. 

Sean tried to keep his cool but couldn't help feeling nervous at Cillian's presence.

"Cillian, what are you doing here?" you asked, surprised, as you made your way over to him.

"Well, I decided to surprise Mara for her birthday. I'm only here for the day though. I got to go back tonight," Cillian explained, unable to take his eyes off Sean and you could sense the tension in the air growing with every passing second.

"Well, I am glad you could make it," you said, trying to lighten the mood.

"Mara is over there if you want to say hi to her," you gestured towards the living room where the children's party was happening.

Cillian hesitated for a moment before nodding and making his way towards the noise and laughter emanating from the other room. 

"There she is," he smiled, picking up Mara and kissing her chubby cheeks. "My little princess," he said as Mara beamed at her father and hugged him tightly. "Happy birthday Sweetie," he told Mara who went straight for Cillian's hair.

"Dada," she grinned, running her tiny hands over the shaved sides on his head, which was clearly a haircut she wasn't too fond about.  "I've missed you Babygirl," Cillian told her affectionately, noticing how Mara's eyes brightened at the sight of him. "Missed me too, huh?" he teased, receiving an adorable giggle in response and, just as you watched this tender moment unfold, you felt a swirl of emotions in the pit of your stomach. You were glad that Mara had her father there for her birthday while Sean, on the other hand, seemed displeased. 

It was clear that he felt uncomfortable around Cillian, and you couldn't blame him. After all, you were still unsure about where you stood with both men, and you knew that keeping a clear mind would be crucial to avoid making any unnecessary mistakes.

As the party progressed, you found yourself caught in a never-ending cycle of keeping a close eye on Mara and making sure that Sean was relaxed and enjoying himself while Cillian socialised with his family and the people around him. 

Mara clung to her father, clearly pleased to see him  and looking adorable in her brand new party dress, complete with a matching headband and shoes. Her laughter filled the air as she played with the other children, who seemed equally delighted to have Cillian there as he was fabulous with young kids, engaging with them in their games and being purposely silly and entertaining. 

Sean, on the other hand, remained somewhat reserved, occasionally joining in conversations but mostly standing off to the side, observing everything. You caught his gaze several times throughout the party, noticing the steady glance he gave you, the subtle twitching of his lips, and the raised eyebrow.

It was as if he could see the turmoil brewing within you, sensing the conflict that raged on inside. You wondered if he knew that you were struggling with your feelings. To what extent and in what ways was he aware of your internal struggle? His knowledge about you had been growing with each passing day, and that realization terrified you. He had been observant and intuitive, but was stopped short of fully understanding what was going on within you. You felt safe, yet vulnerable, anticipating the reckoning that was surely coming.

Cillian's attention seemed focused solely on Mara as she was having the time of her life, laughing joyously and blissfully oblivious to the drama unfolding between her parents. The laughter and chatter of the other children echoed throughout the room, punctuated by sporadic fits of giggles that seemed amplified because of the sheer innocence of their pleasures.

"She is growing up so fast," Cillian murmured, standing up from the floor and watching as Mara sat amongst the other kids her age, playing with blocks. "And yet, I feel like I haven't been here for any part of it lately," he added softly, the regret in his voice unmistakable as he turned his gaze toward you.

"I should have declined that role, Y/N. I've missed so much," he sighed, his eyes searching your face for any hint of understanding. "Only being here every fortnight isn't good enough," he told you, not knowing that Sean was listening in, and you said nothing for a moment, merely holding his gaze as you reflected on his words.

"Life happens, Cillian," you said finally, opting to keep your tone light and neutral to avoid causing any unnecessary drama. "This is your career and we knew this before we brought Mara into this world. In fact, we talked about the logistics of it many times," you  explained gently, trying to make him understand, knowing that this was an important point for him.

"I know, but I would be lying if I said that I didn't miss seeing her every second day or so," Cillian sighed, his eyes softening, "It's just, I don't. It's hard I suppose," he  admitted, looking away briefly before turning back to meet your gaze.

"You know, after my final exams next week and the wedding the week after, Mara and I could stay in Liverpool for a bit," you proposed, thinking that it would be good for Mara to have more time with her father. "After filming, you could spend some time with her, just for an hour or so, and I could take her to the zoo over there and all the other cool places during the day while you are on set,"  you added enthused, wanting Mara to have a good relationship with her father.

Cillian looked surprised but also pleased at the idea. "Really? That would be great, Y/N. Not just for Mara, but for me too," he admitted, smiling at you fondly. "I could rent you a unit and car and you could cruise around with Mara during the day. Maybe the two of you could even visit me on set, unless you think that's weird,"  Cillian offered, taking another sip of his beer.

You shook your head and smiled at him. "No, not weird at all. Unless it's weird for you," you said, seeing how you were no longer together and Mara's visit could even affect his performance on set.

"I think it would be fine. I would love to see her, even if it's just for a little while," he replied with a smile, touching your arm affectionately. You noticed the way Sean was watching you, the subtle tightening of his jaw and the narrowing of his eyes. You pulled your arm away, feeling suddenly uncomfortable under his gaze.

"Alright, let's plan it out then," you  said, changing the subject before Cillian could say anything else. "I'll call you next week and we can arrange everything."

Cillian nodded, seemingly satisfied with your response. "Sounds good," he said before making his way back to Mara while you went and stood next to Sean who was nursing a beer. 

"I should go," Sean said after a little while, breaking the silence and you were too busy to notice that he was struggling internally.

"Of course, you don't have to stay," you said, offering him an easy exit.

Sean hesitated for a moment before nodding and making his way towards the door.

You followed him, feeling a sense of guilt wash over you. You had known that inviting Sean to the party would make things complicated, but you hadn't expected it to be this difficult.

"I am sorry Sean. I didn't mean for things to get so awkward," you said softly, as you stood by the entrance.

"It's fine. I knew what I was getting myself into, although I didn't expect HIM to come," Sean replied,  his voice low and gruff as he looked at you, his eyes filled with a mixture of anger, sadness, and something else that you couldn't quite put your finger on.

"I know, but he is Mara's father and I am glad he came, for her," you  said, your voice barely audible as you stood just a few feet away from him, feeling the tension between you grow thicker.

Sean sighed deeply and ran a hand through his hair, looking you in the eye for a long moment, before replying, "I know, you're right, and I should just leave. But, I hate to admit it, his presence makes me feel like you still belong to him and it bothers me," he admitted and, with that,  the tension between the two of you grew palpable like a storm on the horizon.

Feeling the weight of the situation bearing down upon you, you glanced back into the room, wishing that Cillian could somehow disappear, like a mirage in the desert heat, leaving both you and Sean alone, untouched by the web of complications that had ensnared you both. But, you knew better.

"I belong to no one Sean," you  spoke softly, feeling a sickness rise in your throat at the thought. "Not to Cillian, or you either. I have a life of my own to live."

Your words hung heavy in the humid air, letting the weight of their meaning sink in. Sean looked at you with a troubled gaze, unsure of how to respond.

"I will call you tomorrow?" he then simply asked, causing a flash of confusion in your mind.

"Sure, I would appreciate that," you managed to say before Sean disappeared and drove off  in his car. You returned to the party, feeling lost and confused, trying to shake off the awkward energy that lingered between you and Sean.

Sean, on the other hand, made a call to his friend Mark. "Fuck morals. I am done playing nice. Give me all the dirt you can find on him," he demanded, wasting no time to beat around the bush.

Tags:

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[water-loos]

Bad Idea, Right ?

“I know we’re done, I know we’re through, but, God, when I look at you…”

player!mean!steve harrington x fem!reader

masterlist ; series masterlist ; previous chapter ; next chapter

cw: college au, MILD EMETOPHOBIA WARNING (mentions of gagging/pretending to vomit), vulgar language smut (p in v, creampie, unprotected sex), hate sex, arguing

wc: 5k

a/n: guys please be nice this is my first time writing full on smut

It was easy to change the code for your apartment building. It was easier to sit closer to the front of the class and start participating more as sort of a Steve repellent. Even deleting his number was a piece of cake after a couple of weeks.

What wasn’t easy, was going out.

Despite it being summer when all of the college kids normally went home to their hometowns, your group of friends that lived in your building chose to move to the city permanently and stay for the summer, all in the name of partying and being drunk in public. It had seemed fun at first, and you had been excited at one point.

Then, your friend Eddie said something in a casual conversation that ruined your entire summer.

“Yeah, by the way, Steve’s still holed up at his place. His roommate works 24/7 and doesn’t really do much, so he’s kind of been stuck. I think we should invite him to come out with us tomorrow,” He had suggested innocently, the situation between the two of you was kept so well under wraps that everyone but Alexandra had been kept in the dark. “What d’ya think?”

Well, Alexandra and her girlfriend, Robin. Who was Steve’s best friend. And had apparently been giving him hell about the way he treated you.

Eddie still sat beside you on the couch, sweet and clueless. You gulped before answering. “That’s fine. The more the merrier, right?”

“See! That’s what I told him, but he was all like “Well I don’t know you’d have to ask, you can’t just invite me to someone else’s plans”, which I think is a stupid mindset,” He gave a dramatic and frankly spot-on impression of Steve that almost made you laugh. “I’ll just tell him he should come.”

“Did you tell him who’s coming? Or just that it’s mystery plans?” Robin chirped in from the kitchen, shooting you a knowing look from over the back of Eddie’s head. “You know how he is with knowing everyone who’s at a function.”

“I did not, actually,” Eddie realized and whipped out his phone, flipping it open and clicking through his contacts to find his message thread with Steve. “I’ll text him right now. I don’t think he’s doing anything.”

You watched the screen diligently from where you were sitting, pixelated text bubbles popping up.

—

i just talked to everybody and they said you’re good to come out with us saturday

Who’s going?

rob, alex, nance, sean, jared, and alex’s roommate

—

You bit your thumbnail as you watched a typing bubble pop up, disappear, and then reappear for the next minute.

“He’s taking forever.”

“He always takes forever!” Robin called from the kitchen as Alex walked out from her room.

“What’s all the shouting for?” She grumbled, clinging onto Robin.

“I’m trying to get Steve to tell me if he’s coming out with us on Saturday,” Eddie explains and sends a few question marks in the message thread. “He keeps typing, and stopping, and typing again.”

Alex whips around and shoots you a wide-eyed glance. Eddie’s too enthralled in his phone to see you shoot one back.

—

I just realized I have a work thing that night.

Sorry.

—

“He says he has a work thing. He’s no fun,” Eddie sighs, shuts his phone, and tosses it onto the coffee table.

Your stomach churns and guilt fills your veins. When you cut Steve off, you didn’t want it to stop him from hanging out with everyone else. You’d rather not go and let him have fun instead.

Your phone vibrated in your pocket, indicating you had received a text. Your blood ran cold at the possibility that Steve could be the one texting you, and you immediately handed Eddie the remote that was in your lap in favor of scrambling to open your messages.

You couldn’t help but deflate a little when you saw it was just Robin, asking you if you were alright.

—

u ok?

yeah, i’m fine rob, but can you do me a favor?

sure

what’s up

can you text steve and ask him if he’d consider going out with you guys if i don’t go

what

no i’m not doing that

u don’t have to do that

he’ll be fine

can you just do it? please? i don’t even want to go that badly

i’ll buy you food

please?

fine

but i don’t think U should have to not go out with UR friends bc he’s uncomfy

—

You clicked your phone closed and settled into your seat on the couch, trying to focus on whatever horror movie Eddie had put on. Your phone buzzed not even five minutes after you had closed it, prompting you to open it again.

This time, it was an unknown number.

Your heart just about stopped.

—

Why do you want me to go out with everyone on Saturday so badly?

because i feel bad for being the reason you won’t go

so i’ll not go so you can, eddie really wants you to go

What if I just don’t want to go at all?

i want to make my friends happy, steve

robin and eddie and alex love you, and everyone else will love you

i want them to have a good time and they will if you go

please just go, for their sake

I have a better idea.

Don’t go out with them, and come here.

—

You pause and consider it. It couldn’t be that bad if you did go over. You could bring the six-pack that was in the back of your fridge that you hadn’t had the heart to toss yet, and you two could watch a movie like before. As much as it was easy to separate yourself from him, from everything, you still laid in bed and cried almost every night because your comforter still held the smell of his cologne no matter how many times you washed it. You still had one of his zip-ups, and you kept it right on your bedside table. The Altoids tin with his last cigarette still rattled in your purse.

Your phone buzzed twice in your hand.

—

DONT DO IT. DO NOT. ISWEAR TO FUCKING GOD

don’t listen to him

—

You lifted your head to see Robin and Alex standing behind you, glaring. Alex made a motion of slicing her neck.

That was enough to make you snap your phone closed and go back to pretending to watch the movie.

But it couldn’t be that bad.

Right?

———————

Saturday rolled around, and you had pulled out all of the stops. You blew out your hair, shaved your entire body, and even picked out your favorite pair of jeans that hugged your body just right.

Everything was perfect.

Your friends stood in your apartment, bottles of liquor covered your island, and music was bumping. It was a good pregame, and the energy was high.

“Alright! Let’s get this show on the road people!” Eddie cheered, a shooter between his pointer finger and thumb. “One last shot and then we leave.”

Jared, who had been standing ahead of where you sat on the couch, turned to help you up. The smile that was on his lips faded quickly, and his face fell into a concerned expression in the blink of an eye. “Are you good?”

Step one was complete.

You shook your head slowly and opened your eyes, trying to look as helpless as you could. “I’m really dizzy. I don’t think I should have smoked that cigarette.”

“Oh, shit, Alex?” Jared turned and called for your roommate, who rushed over quickly. The chains that hung from her shorts jingled as she rounded the couch and bent before you. “I think they’re gonna be sick.”

“Babe, I told you not to smoke with Eddie,” She tutted, lips between her teeth.

Before she could say anything else, you jumped up from the couch and rushed to the bathroom with your hand over your mouth, slamming the door behind you.

Step two.

You sat down on the floor next to the toilet and pretended to gag, doing your best to have the sounds you were making reverberate and sound realistic.

You kept it up for a couple of minutes before groaning loudly and flushing, which Alex took as an okay to knock on the door.

“You okay?”

“No. Just go without me.”

“Are you sure? We can just do a night in—“

“It’s fine, Alex,” You croaked. “I’ll be fine. You guys go out and tell me all about it tomorrow. I just want to chill out for a while.”

“Okay, babe. Call me if you need anything,” She agreed quicker than you thought she would, and you could hear her walk away from the door.

Step three.

You waited the ten minutes it took for everyone to get out the door, listening diligently for the faint sounds of their overly loud drunken voices to disappear. You left the bathroom as soon as you heard the door close, and you watched from the crack in your curtains as they pranced down the street and around the corner.

That’s when you grabbed your bag, Steve’s zip-up, his six-pack of beer, sprayed one last drop of perfume and left your apartment.

———————

One tumultuous twenty-minute drive later, you stood in front of his apartment, tossing your hair with your free hand as you debated on knocking.

This was such a bad idea.

But it was fine because you were just returning the last of his things. You were going to give him his things and maybe one more piece of your mind, and then you’d leave and cry in bed. It was a foolproof plan.

So you decide to knock, two raps of the knocker. You adjusted your posture one more time and crossed your arms. It would be fine. It’s a quick trip.

Step four.

Then, the door opened. Steve Harrington stood there, smiling at you with a look that could send someone to their knees. His shoulder leaned against the doorframe, and he matched your posture. It made your heart ache.

“There you are, pretty,” He quipped, letting his eyes drag slowly over your frame. You hadn’t changed, and the strong A/C that escaped the open door rose goosebumps over the sliver of stomach that showed above your jeans and the swell of your tits that was exposed over your favorite going-out top. “Almost thought you wouldn’t come.”

You tried your best to roll your eyes and pushed past him into his apartment, arms still crossed. “I’m just here to drop off your shit. Don’t get ahead of yourself.”

“You dressed up just to bring over my things?” He shut the door behind you and followed you into the kitchen, where you set down all of his stuff. “Sure.”

“Did it ever occur to you that I might have plans after this? I don’t sit alone in my apartment like you do.”

“Oh, is that why Eddie called me?” He rounded the counter to stand in front of you, hands bracing either side of the counter outside of your hips. “Rambling about how I should ditch the work thing and come party because his favorite friend got sick after one cigarette?”

Shit.

He stepped closer once he saw your expression drop, one of his knees wedging between yours.

“I think we both know why you’re here, sweetheart.”

“You’re the one who texted me. Don’t act like this is my idea,” You said, voice wavering so slightly that you weren’t sure that he’d catch on.

“Oh, baby,” He tutted, reaching up to tuck your hair behind your ear and letting his hand trail down your neck. “I’m just feeling like the luckiest guy in the world, getting to be the one you get all prettied up for.”

You folded the second he pulled you closer, connecting your lips. It was like you were putty in his hands, and you were molded just for him. His hand almost gripped the back of your neck as your hands landed on the sides of his waist, anchoring him to you. The kiss was hot and hard like you were taking your first drink of water after walking through a desert. his other hand was quick to grasp your ass, pulling on it slightly as he groaned into the kiss.

“Wearing my favorite goddamn jeans,” He murmured into your lips, letting his hand smack your left ass cheek a little bit. “Just f’me.”

“Not for you,” You grumbled back but grabbed the front of his shirt and let your leg hook around his hip as he pressed you into the edge of the island. “Never for you.”

He chuckled and took one quick movement to set you atop the counter, letting you look down at him as his hands smoothed up your thighs. “I don’t think telling yourself that makes it any more true.”

“Go fuck yourself.”

“Aren’t you going to do that for me?”

You knocked his hip with your leg moderately hard, catching his attention. “I’ll walk out right now. This is the last time I’m ever dealing with your shit. I’m serious.”

He just blinked at you, eyes glazed over. But not with a realization that this was the end of you two. That’d be too easy.

That stupid smirk that haunted your dreams popped up on his lips seconds later.

“You’re so fucking hot when you hate me.”

He let his hand slip into the crease of your hips and thighs and all but smashed his lips into yours, groaning a little when your hands reached up to tug at his grown-out strands of hair. He was quick to pull you closer then, your legs wrapping around his hips as he leaned you across the counter. His lips started a burning and sloppy descent down your neck, his hands greedily grabbing at what he could of your ass. He nudged you further and further off the counter as you pulled him closer with both of your legs, and he was practically holding you soundly around his waist.

“You’re not fucking me on top of a counter, Harrington,” You breathed, a little less weight behind your words. “My back still hurts from your stupid car.”

“She’s not stupid,” He huffs against your neck and steps away from the counter, hosting you higher on his hips. “But have it your way.”

You scoff as he references his car as a ‘she’, but the annoyance doesn’t last long as he quickly turns the corner after the kitchen, goes into the first door on the right, and all but tosses you onto his bed. It’s huge and the comforter almost puffs out around you as he closes the door and locks it quietly. He wheeled around at light speed after that, as you positioned yourself, knees up and posed, the chunky heels of your boots digging into his navy sheets. You pulled in your shoulders and pushed out your chest, arms locked behind you.

The second you cocked your head at him, he froze, and you swore that he short-circuited.

“You just going to stand there and gawk at me?” You raised an eyebrow and watched his cheeks grow pink in the dim light of his bedside lamp. “Commit me to memory while you can.”

He was quick to step forward then, a surprisingly gentle hand reaching for your ankle. You watched silently as he slowly pulled down the zipper of one boot, slid it off, and placed it quietly on the shag rug beside the bed. He did the same for the other boot before kissing up the length of your calf and knee over your jeans, alternating legs. You let your arms drop to your elbows, entranced as he lowered your knees and made his way up your thighs, surprisingly tender as he almost worshipped your legs. The nature of it all made your chest tight, those feelings you swore to keep at bay swelling to the surface.

Once he reached your navel, he didn’t waste time letting his fingers grasp the edge of your top, pushing it up as he pressed gentle pecks all over the expanse of your stomach. His head didn’t rise as you carefully lifted your shirt over your head and let it drop to the floor. His pace quickened then as his kisses turned to love bites, his teeth sharp and his lips soothing. Your breath hitched as his hand skirted around your back and unclipped your bra with nimble fingers. He pushed the straps down your shoulders as you slipped them off one by one, the lace material dropping beside your top.

He left larger hickeys on the swell of your breasts and sternum as he trailed back down, fingers already popping the button of your jeans and skirting along the seam between your legs. You preened in response and lifted your hips, urging him to push the tight jeans over your plush hips already. This needed to be quick before the facade you’d built in the last twenty-four hours started to crack.

“Please.”

You whispered the word so softly that you almost didn’t know if he’d hear it, but it was like a switch flipped the second it left your lips. Your jeans were flying off your legs, white lace panties dragged with them. You were next, his hands moving to your calves and pulling you toward the edge of the bed, your legs dangling off the edge. The boy did nothing but drag a hand down the side of your now naked frame, smirk, and slowly lower to his knees between your legs. The sight alone made your core gush, clenching around air.

You were quick to scramble to your elbows, watching him retrace his earlier steps across the expanse of your legs, leaving tender kisses and gentle nips across your skin as he inched closer and closer to the apex of your thighs. He slowed even more, then, simply looking at your cunt, unmoving.

“Stop teasing me,” You huffed, leaning your head back for a moment. “You’ve seen me a million goddamn times.”

“You said to commit you to memory,” He replied nonchalantly. A finger came out of nowhere and circled your clit as he rested his head on the plush of your thigh. “That’s exactly what I’m doing.”

You whined softly, heartbeat quickening. “Do it faster, then.”

“You that eager to get in and out of here?” He scoffed, adjusting so that his thumb kept a slow, torturous pace on your clit, while the middle finger of his other hand began to circle your entrance, teasing delicately. You whined in response, more pissed off than anything.

“What do you think?” You huffed, attempting to shift your hips closer to him and urge his finger inside of you, but Steve simply moved his arm to bracket across your hips and hold you in place. “I didn’t come here to spend the night. Now, could you please just fucking touch me?”

You saw a flash of something in his eyes, something you’d never seen before, before his mouth was on you. His arms moved to loop around your thighs as he buried himself in your pussy, tongue running figure eights from your clit to your weeping entrance so harshly that you almost shouted. You moaned softly over and over as he almost ravished you, lewd wet noises ringing through his echoey bedroom. You had almost forgotten how good he was in bed, and how he was obsessed with eating you out. It was always his favorite part of your nightly routine. It might be yours too.

Your heart ached the second you thought about how you had missed him, and you squeezed your eyes shut to wave those thoughts away. You tried to focus on the pleasure building up as an orgasm crept up on you, your moans turning into soft gasps.

“Fuck,” Your elbows ached behind you as you let yourself fall back onto the bed, hands twisting into the sheets below you. His arms kept your hips locked in place as you tried to squirm and give yourself a little more friction against his tongue. His pace had turned slow, but not any less passionate as he took his sweet time switching between sucking on your clit and dipping his tongue around and into your entrance. “Don’t stop, if you stop I’ll lose my shit—“

All of a sudden, two fingers were slipping into you and curling against your g-spot, making you squeak and writhe in place as the feeling of your orgasm slammed your senses. Your breathing turned erratic as he lapped up your cum and helped you ride out the high, your head elbows falling out from underneath you.

“That’s one way to get you to shut up,” He snorted, standing from his kneeling position. His hair wasn’t as wild as it normally was after he spent time between your thighs— the sight of him looking like he’d got ready two minutes ago made your heart ache. But, you were somehow glad you managed to keep your hands off of him. It meant you still had your self-control.

“You’re such a dick,” You scoff, chest heaving as you pushed yourself up onto your hands. You watched his eyes follow the way your tits jiggled as you did so, and rolled yours. “You planning on fucking me, or are we done here? I could still make it to the bar if I catch a cab.”

His face stayed stagnant and slightly flushed, but his eyes managed to widen ever so slightly. “You weren’t kidding.”

Jackpot.

“What made you think I was kidding?” You laughed slightly, even though you felt sick. You sat up fully then, closing your legs and crossing your arms with as much confidence as you could muster. “Look, Steve. I came here for two things: to drop off the last of your stuff, and to get off. It’s not that deep. If you want to jack off on your own time that’s perfectly—“

He was flinging his shirt off and rushing to unbuckle his belt in the middle of your sentence, and was on top of you before you could say “Fine”. He pushed your back onto the bed and his lips latched onto yours in a bruising kiss, one hand manhandling your chin as the other held him up beside your head. His hips pressed your legs apart once more, the rough fabric of his jeans giving your still-sensitive clit some much-needed friction as he rocked with the kiss.

“You think I’m going to choose not to fuck you when you’re sitting right in front of me?” He mumbled against your lips and rocked his hips again. “With a pussy like yours? Not a fucking chance.”

Your hand slipped down to palm over his bulge and gripped him through his pants suddenly, a small gasp falling from his lips as he pulled away from the kiss. “I liked this so much better when you didn’t open your fucking mouth.”

Before he could bite back, your deft fingers made quick work of popping the button of his jeans, then pulling down the zipper in record time. His other arm came down beside your head to hold him up as he watched you between your bodies, your ring-clad fingers pushing his jeans and boxers down enough for his dick to spring free. You tried your best to not openly moan at the familiar sight of him after so long and gave him a couple strokes as your other hand continued to push his jeans and boxers down further.

“You still on the pill?” He huffed, pupils blown wide as he looked up at you. That confident man that had just made you cum in two minutes flat was long gone, and you were left with a puddle of a boy, ready to do whatever you asked. “Please say yes. Need to feel you.”

You gulped at the sight and continued to feed into this confident facade you were putting on. “I have no reason to not be on it.”

He blinked, his eyes flashing with that emotion you couldn’t place again before he kissed you deeply once more. You took the opportunity to shift your hips and guide his tip toward your entrance, tapping his side to signal he could push in. He did so as slowly as possible, his cheeks pink as he pulled away and looked between your bodies, watching you stretch around his length. “Fuck. I’ve missed this.”

Your throat grew tight as he bottomed out, your hands landing on the bed, just outside of where he braced himself on his forearms. You adjusted quickly to his size, which you had forgotten about, but then, all of those emotions you had been trying to desperately push aside started to arise. Your eyes pricked with tears, and you tried your best to close your eyes and pretend you weren’t about to cry during this.

“Move, please,” You whispered, trying your best to keep your voice even. “C’mon, Steve. Do what you do best.”

He didn’t react to the jab and rolled his hips, barely pulling out. Just how you liked him— grinding inside of you like you were one. It made your tears come on faster, your eyes squeezed shut as you willed yourself to get it together. Your moans grew watery and quiet, your throat thick with emotion as he rutted into you, his hair finally flopping down toward your face. He stayed like that for a brief moment before reaching for your legs and urging them higher on his hips, giving him more space to pull out and ram back into you.

The pleasure you were feeling was almost blinding, but no matter how much you willed yourself not to let your tears fall, you could feel droplets leaking from the outer corners of your eyes with every harsh thrush and whine that fell from your lips. Your chest hurt with your feelings as you felt another orgasm rapidly approaching, your fingers twisting again in Steve’s bedsheets once more.

Then he stopped. He stopped at the end of a particularly hard thrust, his tip pressing against your g-spot, making you squirm and finally open your eyes to look at him in surprise.

“Are you crying? What’s wrong?” His voice was soft, eyes searching your face with concern. “D’you need me to stop?”

“I’m fine, keep going,” You huffed, squeezing your eyes shut again. “Don’t worry about me, just keep doing what you’re doing.”

“Am I hurting you? What’s going on—“

“Please, god, just keep going, Steve!” You exclaimed, voice breaking. “Come on. Please.”

“You promise you’re okay?” He asked again, voice almost a whisper. One of his hands came up to brush your wild hair away from your face. “Promise me and I’ll keep going.”

“I promise,” You squirmed, letting out a whimper as you did so. “Please, Steve.”

With your promise, he was pulling out and quickening his pace, his hips all but slamming in and out of you as you moaned beneath him, eyes closed once more as you willed your orgasm to come any faster. With one sharp thrust, and one more press against your g-spot, you were cumming so suddenly that you swore your saw stars, and Steve followed seconds later. Your moans mingled as his body weight came down on top of you, a grounding weight as you both recovered from your climaxes.

Your tears only got worse when you felt him try to wrap his arms around you and roll the two of you over, but you kept your back on his bed and gently pushed away his arm with a shake of your head. The look in his eyes, that emotion you had seen in his eyes returning, made you feel sick as you sat up in bed. It took you a moment to gain the strength to swing your legs over the side of the bed and rise to your feet.

You ignored his piercing gaze as you wiped the tears from your face, collected your clothes from around the room, and let yourself into his en-suite bathroom. You tried to ignore the sound of him rising from bed as you cleaned his cum from between your legs and redressed yourself, trying your best to keep your composure until you at the very least got to your car.

He knocked on the door just as you finished fixing your hair, your hands gripping on the edge of his marble countertop.

“Can we talk? Please?” He asked at the door. “You can’t just leave after that. I want to make sure you’re okay.”

With one last deep breath, you opened the door and pushed past him. “That’s exactly what I’ll be doing. I have no reason to stay.”

“But you never left after before,” He huffed, blocking the doorway momentarily.

“That’s because I wanted to be around you, Steve,” You bit back.

“Obviously you wanted to be around me ten minutes ago when you were in my bed,” A scoff left his lips as you pushed past again into the hallway of his apartment. You bristled at his words, wheeling around on your heel.

“I came here to fuck, Steve. I didn’t come here to be around you,” You said evenly, your eyes boring into his. “You gave me an opportunity, and I took it. That’s all this is. That’s all it ever was, right?”

“It’s not like that—“

“You don’t get to be butthurt when you get a taste of your own medicine. I’m leaving, and you can go fuck yourself from now on,” You turned back around and reached for your thumb, where the last piece of Steve in your life laid. A gold signet ring with his initials carved into it in ornate cursive, perfectly sized for his ring finger, and your thumb. You pulled it off with ease, tossed it onto the counter, grabbed your keys that had fallen out of your pocket earlier, and headed for the door.

“So this is it?” He asked from the far side of the kitchen, his arms crossed over his chest. “This is the last time I’m seeing you.”

“Whatever this is was over months ago, Steve,” You snorted and opened the door, soaring one last glance over your shoulder at his shirtless frame. “You need to get over it.”

———————

[utilitycaster]

I've been seeing complaints that Spenser was 'trying too hard to kill the cast' this episode, which I have to say I wildly disagree with, but I will admit to be a little confused why the players sometimes took one or even two marks after rolling a six. Or I guess I'm not confused so much as I wonder if the mechanics for injury, success, failure, etc could be too vague atm? Candela doesn't really have anything like CR rating or DC which it doesn't NEED, but I guess could create some grey area?

Good question! Here's the secret: all TTRPGs I'd consider worth my time have a huge swathe of gray area, D&D very much included (indeed, I find a lot of the more baseless criticisms of D&D, especially from Game Based Heavily On D&D But Different fans (derogatory) to come from people mad at that gray area) and as long as the players and GM have agreed on it, it's fine. With that said I admit that paying attention to individual rolls is not what I am inclined, personally, to do, but if this is about Sean rolling a six and taking two body...that is because he was going to take four body off the bat and reduced it with a good roll that the GM permitted him. (It also might be about Marion taking in the rift, which was similarly stated beforehand to cost him a Bleed scar no matter what he rolled, the roll reflecting how successful he was.) Now, we can talk about the implications of taking four body seemingly out of nowhere, but do recall that is coming off an earlier 1 roll in his interaction with Duncan.

CR ratings generally are a poor understanding of difficulty, and the thing about DCs is you can set them arbitrarily high (or for that matter, secretly low). Like...to use D&D, you cannot make a persuasion check for someone who dislikes you to give you all their belongings and run away forever. The DM is going to set the persuasion check at 50 and it is going to be unreachable by any means. Even a nat 20 will give you a result of "they think you're joking and laugh it off instead of run after you with a sword." If you jump off a sufficiently high cliff in D&D and roll a nat 20 to land, you still might take enough damage to die during your three-point landing. And so on.

So: while we don't have all the rules of Candela Obscura, it is valid from my knowledge of the Forged in the Dark engine, which Illuminated Worlds was heavily influenced by, for Spenser to say "this action is unbelievably dangerous and there is no possible way you are escaping unscathed, and a full success means that you live to tell the tale with only a gunshot wound or bleed damage rather than outright death." That's the other thing: completely valid for the GM to come in planning to kill the players. That's the premise of EXU Calamity. I would assume the table discussed that this was going to be a much darker and more dangerous game than Chapter 1 and everyone shares those expectations, and is prepared to possibly lose these characters. Which is, frankly, another thing that comes up specifically in actual play: what the table knows and expects and is prepared to accept is often something much harsher than the audience is prepared to accept. I mentioned being irritated at the presumptive nature of a lot of safety tool discussion (and am feeling very validated by Spenser's tweet about how he handled the letters to Sean) but like...when the CR or D20 or Candela tables prepare for their games, they have talked about expectations of tone and whether the GM will be trying to gently usher new players to victory, flat out gunning for a potential TPK, or somewhere in between.

This was a long, pre-full dose of caffeine way to say that one of the biggest rules of GM-ing is that the GM sets the tone of which the danger and difficulty of the world is part, and also that, based on everything about how this chapter has been presented, if someone accuses Spenser of being very hard on the party my answer is "...yeah, no shit, did you fail to realize that from the tone and text of literally every trailer and interview?"

[luna-andra]

The Shadows Return | Simon 'Ghost' Riley x OC Retired AU | Year One*

Summary: A little insight

Word count: 2k words

Author's note: I have returned! 🎉 if you're new to this story, you can read Chapter 1 here. Filler chapters will be marked with an * sign from here on out.

Ch 8 is posted!

Content: slow burn, fluff, retired au Ghost x OC, mentions of mental health, violence, eventual smut

Andra let out a sigh of relief as she read the email she received during her morning shift at the café. Her work visa had been approved for renewal. It was weighing on her for the past couple of weeks, stressing her to think she had submitted her documents too close to the deadline. Her current visa wasn’t due to expire until the end of the month, but now it wasn’t a cause for concern.

She didn’t have to plan for the possibility of returning to Texas anymore, so she closed out the tabs in her browser on her phone for apartments in her old area with a satisfied grin and a “good fucking riddance” to herself in the break room. The rest of her shift went smoothly with renowned happiness, having her smiling wider than she was before going on break.

Andra didn’t have many people to share the good news with, but her managers would have to suffice, and will be notified under the pretense of business.

“That’s good to hear,” Henry, her manager at her evening job, said with milquetoast optimism, “Won’t have to look for a new bartender for a whole ‘nether year, then.”

“Guess I’ll still be a thorn in your side for a while longer, Henry.”

He chortled at that. Andra got his dry humor now that she had been working for him for long enough. She swore he hated the shadow that followed behind her every step, muttering snide and sarcastic remarks any time she had questions on some of the items on the menu. It was when she quipped back about him being a pain in the ass and he smiled to himself did she start to feel less of an outsider to her new environment.

Andra had a run-in with a few of the locals that weren’t too keen on an American serving them. It was expected, a sobering reminder when she built her new life in the quaint village. Six months later and she has become their favorite American bartender, some of them checked in on how she’s coming along with her fixer-upper of a farmhouse out in the boonies.

“It’s comin’.” Andra drawled a little more than her baseline accent. “I got the paint for the living room, got the tarp laid down, and she should have a fresh coat of paint on her in the next few days.” She finished pouring a pint of cider and placed it down on the dampened coaster.

“Any plans for the farmland?” Mister Wade asked a few barstools down the counter.

Andra paid close attention to the whiskey she was pouring into the glass before answering. “Can’t say I’ve thought about it, I’m not much of a green thumb gal.”

She got a grunt of disapproval for that one. “These lands are fertile if ye treat em right. Even if it’s veg that yer growin’ for yourself, give it a go.”

The idea of starting her own little garden of produce and fruits brought a smile to her face. Now that she can actually think of long-term decisions, Andra might just consider the suggestion. “I’ll think on it, Mister Wade.”

“Call me Dean.” He raised his pint of cider before taking a generous swig.

“I’ll take these for you.” Warm hands took the collection of pint glasses from Andra’s hold.

Henry’s son, Sean, was the most welcoming and helpful when she started working at the pub. With Andra picking up the evening shifts, it gave Sean time to start college classes. When she had first walked in to Henry’s establishment, Andra could sense the rejection on the tip of his tongue as she was explaining her qualifications. Sean thankfully swooped in before Henry could say no, and she couldn’t have been more grateful.

She learned quickly his friendliness and warm smiles were an attempt to win her affections. It was difficult to ignore a good looking guy like Sean; ocean blue eyes, short, slicked back blonde hair, and fairly taller than Andra. He was too sweet of a guy. Sean deserved a woman with a clean background, someone that didn’t attract trouble.

“We should celebrate your prolonged stay.” Sean suggested with that stunning smile.

Andra could already feel Henry’s hardened stare before she looked to him. Sean might be unaware of what transpired back in the states, but Henry knew. They exchanged a subtle look of agreement before Andra returned her attention to Sean. “That’s nice of you to think of me Sean. I’m just really busy with my morning job as well, you know? And I wouldn’t want to pull you away from your studies. The sentiment is appreciated, though.”

He gave her a defeated grin. “Perhaps some other time, then. When we’re both not so busy.”

Henry turned away from their chatter and Andra let out a sigh. She was thankful that Sean took her rejections on the chin, and even more thankful for Henry feeling like one heavy discussion between the two of them was enough to get the message across.

-----

Payday came around and Andra made sure to get her loan payment from her dad paid right away before anything else. She always made sure to send a message to him just to let him know that it was done, paying double the minimum monthly payment to get it taken care of as soon as possible. Immediately after sending the message, there was an automated reply that pulled up in the messenger.

Message failed.

She paused in her tracks, stopping by the door of her used truck. She tried sending the same message, but the same message failed response came back.

Her heart constricted in her chest. Dad… blocked me?

The rest of the day, it plagued her mind. She desperately wanted to know what was going on back home. It’s not like they were on bad terms, he pulled out that loan to make sure it would cover the costs of her visa and passport, and even though he said not to worry about paying him back, Andra wasn’t accepting that answer.

Unless mom found out…

She closed her eyes and let out a deflated sigh. Of course, mom had to be behind this. She must have discovered the loan somehow, whether it be by snooping through dad’s emails or bank statements, a rogue letter from the loan company showing up in the mail that she happened to get her hands on. And she must have got access to the one source of communication she had with her dad and nixed it.

Tears clouded her vision, the ache in her chest deepening. Andra wondered when was the last time dad tried reaching out to her. Did he think she had blocked him? She looked over their messages to see what the last thing was she told him.

Lol thanks

A month ago.

A message she wished she had put more thought into, unsure of when the next time she would be able to tell her father that she loves him.

She could reach out to Ivan or Orion, but she didn’t want to run the risk of setting off mom. Ivan was graduating in June and was getting on that bus as soon as he could to go off to basic training.

Graduation…

Andra wasn’t going to be there for it. She already knew that she wasn’t going to be able to afford a plane ticket and a hotel to be there to see him walk the stage, but it felt heavier now that she couldn’t talk to dad about it.

All of a sudden, the elation she felt about her renewed visa turned to ash as she realized, she really was alone out here. In a country that still hasn’t truly become a place she could call home.

The drive to the farmhouse was silent. Her hands were shaky as she held the steering wheel, a little firmer than usual. She used the sleeve of her sweater to wipe away the rogue tears slipping. A silver truck was turning down her road just a few feet ahead and took another turn into the first dirt path. She was familiar with the vehicle of the one other person living off of the shared road, despite never introducing herself or running into the other person.

She was almost certain that they preferred privacy along with being blissfully unaware of her existence out here.

Fine by her.

Her brakes screeched as she came to an abrupt halt at the sight of a black and brown puppy meandering across the street. Andra opened the door and stepped out of the truck, approaching the puppy with caution.

“What are you doing out here all alone, sweet baby?”

The puppy’s ears perked up and it happily trotted to Andra, and she crouched down to meet the curious animal. It was so friendly, so sweet. Andra giggled at the onslaught of licks and kisses the puppy gave her, and she picked up the puppy with care.

“Thank you, thank you!” Her voice squeaked as she scratched the puppy’s bare neck. No collar, nothing to indicate that she has an owner. Andra walked around the front of the truck to see if there were any others. No litter, no mother, no other dogs in sight.

Her smile faltered. “Were you left out here, sweetie?”

The puppy’s hot breath fanned her face as it continued its demonstration of affection. Completely oblivious to the redundant question Andra had asked. Maybe the puppy belonged to her neighbor? She got back into her truck with the pup on her lap and turned around in her own driveway to go back in the opposite direction. By the time she arrived and turned into her neighbor’s path, the silver truck was gone.

Well, damn.

Andra had no indication if the pup was indoor trained or not, so she started dispersing patches of old newspaper throughout the spaces of the house.

“Good think I didn’t throw those out, huh.” Andra said out loud to the puppy.

The newspaper was stacked inside the barn that came with the house, along with a mountain of other items, junk, and farm equipment that she couldn’t find time to sift through. She was hoping once she was able to quit one of her jobs, she would have more time to spend on making her house a home.

Andra didn’t see any fleas jumping or crawling around the puppy’s fur, but she wasn’t taking any chances and started filling the kitchen sink with lukewarm water, tossing in some oats to soak in the little bath.

If anyone was nearby, they would think Andra was torturing the animal. “I know, sweet girl, it’s gotta be done.” Her soothing words were futile, the puppy only stopped wailing and whining once she was out of water and being dried off with a soft towel.

She cuddled her new friend on the couch while she looked up the nearest vet clinic to make sure she was okay and whether or not she had been microchipped.

It was already late in the evening, so this would be an adventure for tomorrow.

Her eyes were growing heavy while Andra cleaned the remaining water from her ears. The bath had drained any energy the puppy had left for the night. Got herself ready for bed, and allowed the pup to lay on the empty side of the bed on top of a small nest of towels.

-----

“She has no owner.” The vet technician came back into the tiny room Andra and the pup waited in. “Would you consider adopting her?”

The doe-eyed pup directed her attention back onto Andra, as if she understood what was being asked. A grin escaped Andra. What are the chances of a beautiful, pure-bred German shepherd showing up at such a down-trodden time? It couldn’t have been coincidence. The universe had sent her to Andra, she felt it in her heart.

“Yeah, I’ll take her home with me.” Andra finally answered and rubbed her new pet’s head.

Andra started immediately on the forms to get the pup prepared for vaccination and everything else. The pen hovered over the spot where the dog’s name would be written as she thought cautiously.

Sammy.

-----

See you next week for the next chapter! 🖤

[lafiametta]

Definable agree with you about the script. Baker has said it was written in a way that allowed the actors room for interpretation. I think Ani is quite similar in script and movie because he was consulting with Mikey Madison as he was writing it and taking in ideas she had. With the other characters I think they became more developed when the actors got there (Madison mentioned that she pictured the Ani/Vanya relationship differently when she read the script because Mark played him much more endearingly). With Igor specifically , Baker's said that they didn't want to show their cards too early with him, that he'd be the one to sympathetic with Ani (probably why the draft has him more similar to Yuras character in Compartment no.6) but Borisovs performance was probably subtle enough that they could soften him a bit. And Yura has said in interviewsthe characterisation of Igorwas mainly born on set.

Also, Baker has also said a few times that he didn't notice many times Igor looks at Ani during filming because he left it up to Borisov and Madison to respond in return. He's said it wasn't until he started editing that he realised "ohh there's something very special here". I think it's so interesting how editing can make a storyline that basically was born on set look like it was meant to be there all along.

So basically yes, the films interpretation of the characters is the one we're supposed to go with. (If you couldn't tell I'm majorly hyperfixating on this movie lol).

Seriously, Anon, let's just majorly hyperfixate on it together — as you can tell, I'm already in too deep!

The more I read, the more I really appreciate the way that Sean Baker seems to collaborate with his actors, not just about the characters and their arcs, but about aspects of the plot and even the deeper interpretation about what's going on between the lines. Realizing that the editing could subtly transform the story into something different (and I would argue more powerful) makes it clear that Baker was really open to the process and allowed things to happen in a creative and organic (and also, it sounds like, improvisational) way.

When you watch the film, it's so fascinating to realize how often we're seeing direct shots of Igor, simply watching Ani or reacting to things she's doing (or are being done to her). He's not doing or saying anything, often he's just in the background, and therefore there's no reason for the camera to be on him, but it serves to emphasize his growing connection to Ani, the way that he's looking at (and out for) her as the movie progresses. Even the shot on the tarmac with Ivan, which theoretically should center on the two people talking, Ivan is mostly cut out of the frame, while Igor is fully visible, watching silently over Ani's shoulder. This is the way you do storytelling without having to hit the audience over the head with it. Because you're right — it really does feel like it was meant to be there all along.

[tommyssupercoolblog]

can I ask what happened w that artist and you? totally fine if you don't want to tell I'm just noisy

They had been bullying a friend of mine and we found out they were stalking that friend's blog because I commented under a post and then got a BUNCH of hate anons with the sentence structure/writing style, and a lot of them with purposefully bad spelling. Showed them to my friend and they were like. "Yeah I think that's them, or could be anyway". After I blocked the Anon through my askbox, a little bit later bunch of anons (again with the same writing style and harping the same points) came through on a BACKUP account but this only happened like two other times before they apparently ran out and it all stopped. And again the spelling appeared to be bad on purpose? Probably to cloak it.

Anyways, we were suspicious about how we got this right after interacting with our friend a bunch, but what confirmed our suspicions was that the artist's account, who I had not blocked yet, was magically marked as blocked after I blocked all the anons. Meaning that when I clicked "block Anon" on one or more of the messages, it hit the account.

The common threads that came up in the anons are: they claimed factives aren't real because the concept is creepy and that we were faking being a system, they called Seán "it" in a very transphobic manner (hey can we maybe not call nonbinary/multigender people "it"? Ffs), called me a retard and made fun of my autism, and told us both to kill ourselves. Yikesies.

They also, ironically, accused me of spelling Seán wrong because his source's name is spelled Sean.... Except it ISN'T spelled Sean. Seán is the correct spelling FOR SOURCE TOO!!! Source has gone on camera multiple times and explained that it's Seán because that's what makes it pronounced Shaun and not See-an or whatever, the á makes a sound in the gaelic language that changes the pronunciation. the main reason people in the JSE fandom spell is Sean without the á is because they don't know how to make the á symbol on their keyboards, so Sean becomes a close approximation.

They also did send Seán a message too, but he only got one compared to my MULTIPLE ones. Unsure why.

We also reported some of the messages, but idk if Tumblr staff did anything.

I only screenshotted one of the messages? But I can show it. I'll put it under the cut for trigger reasons. CW for....awful behavior, but here's the screenshot I DO still have under the cut. It doesn't cover everything that was said but it actually does contain MOST of the points I mentioned because it's long as fuck

Anyways 🩷💖 awful and horrible but at least the bad spelling made it like. Sort of funny? It cushioned the blow, which is silly because it was probably only done so they could get away with being mean to me. But all it did was make me go "wow this is kinda silly"

[pavlovianpanic]

wow! an interesting detail that i haven't seen gone over much at all, so i'm going to.

the picture below is from nathan's dorm. that's his camera.

i made everything in the above image way easier to see, so it's not for aesthetic purposes, it's for what i highlighted in the image itself.

that red binder near nathan's camera in his room looks familiar, right? because it is familiar. they are the same folders being used in the dark room:

worth noting: in mark's classroom near the back, you can see a row of black binders that are the same type as the red binders. in the beta, the classroom (and kate's room) had the same red binders. that detail was changed clearly for the final cut, but was clear in the beta build.

why is this important at all?

nathan is working on his own now. i have affirmed this a lot in my various posts about him, mark, sean, kate, rachel, the dark room, etc.

he is going rogue fast. the gap delay between rachel and kate is notable. after rachel, mark stopped the project. nathan spirals for six months with excessive partying, consuming grief, a rapidly depleting support system, and his mental health is all but basically shot at this point. he's not operative at any normal capacity when we meet him in-game. he's holding it together for a few scenes ... but barely.

mark activates nathan again with kate. nathan takes what he does with kate to try to do to chloe, recreating what he did with rachel ... but not in the same exact way. rachel was nathan's first 'personal project' attempt that he botched, kate was a joint reunion between mark and nathan that nathan took further post-mark and nathan's time with kate in the dark room, and then right after kate (within a day), he has gone after chloe. chloe fights nathan off, but nathan does get a photo of chloe to prove her story:

before we see this photo as proof in nathan's room, chloe told us she broke a lamp when fighting nathan off. even without that photo, the lamp is proof of this:

nathan's funds are going into more important stuff than a broken lamp + we need this as game evidence.

mark says nathan doesn't know everything. i can believe that. nathan doesn't have to know everything to start acting independently. mark is also acting independently. he has been for a while now.

nathan gets the girls and drugs, nathan throws the parties, nathan delivers the girls to mark, nathan works with mark in the dark room, and nathan is involved because his father is also involved. we know that by now.

nathan, as i have mentioned, idolizes mark ... but he wants to be better than mark. not uncommon as the mentee to want to surpass the mentor / the student becomes the teacher.

tumblr hated me uploading the vid directly, so the above link also is just the re-affirmation that nathan is a star in kate's viral video ie he was super involved. i even made a follow up post about everyone who is responsible for kate's video here.

kate even mentions hearing nathan (a voice she recognizes) directly with hearing mark (a soft voice that she doesn't recognize) in the dark room itself. she knows she wasn't in a hospital, but she doesn't know where. i've written so many posts about kate, nathan, and mark, they're all able to seen if you ctrl + f her name in these two posts here and here.

even if you don't believe nathan did anything additional to kate post the dark room, we know this for sure: the dark room is a metaphor for sexual assault. if nathan isn't sexually violet, why is he trying to create his own dark room portfolio independent of mark, who is seen as the only one really 'getting anything out of this' from the fandom. i just find this attempt to disconnect nathan from the dark room not the intention we were supposed to get from the storytelling.

you can even find his jacket in the dark room in the game itself.

"If Max didn't allow Warren Graham to beat him up, Nathan's jacket is present in the bunker, meaning he was there recently. He was wearing this jacket when Max and Chloe ran into him at the Prescott Dormitory earlier. It is possible that he was also there with his father, considering that he mentions in the dormitory that his father was on his way to meet him there. There are also emails and notes for Nathan sent by his father in the bunker."

even with this new security (which i believe is because of what happened with nathan and rachel in the dark room) ... nathan clearly can just go right in with no problem. it's not an issue for him to be there. he isn't shy to leave his jacket there. he is known for that jacket btw so that's literally like leaving his license or something to be found. he is comfortable there.

tl;dr: nathan is ready to do this on his own ... or he thinks he is. my claims of his spiraling out, being super involved (to the extent he needs to be, which is enough for him + he is just very involved outright), and overall this misunderstanding that nathan is some red herring (which now corey from bloom & rage helps me because he is a red herring imo or at least what we get from ch. 1 sort of gives that vibe so far, i could be wrong here). nathan is just in a tier of villainy.

[moviebloggg]

What I noticed TSN rewatch🤪

Eduardo coming to Marks dorm looking concerned at TWO AM. “You and Erica split up” Why r u checking his blog at 2:08 am… - 12:33 and his CONCERN the whole time “it’s on ur blog :(, Are you alright :(, I’m here for you” like damn

Dustin’s adorable wave to Wardo :((( - 12:34 and DUSTIN LAUGHING AT THE “i’m here for you. no i need the algorithm” LMAOO - 12:43

Wardo waiting for him after the face mash meeting :( sitting down, headphones in, clearly been there for a while - 20:32

EDUARDOS DADDY ISSUESSSSS. “You have no idea what that’s gonna mean to my father” - 37:04 AND THEN MARK SAYING “Sure I do” LIKE HE KNOWS AND CARES TOO. Also, “My father won’t even look at me. (1:40:03) and there’s one more time i know he mentions it i just don’t know where😭

“have you slept yet?” (36:06) even after mark made him wait and in that tone like aw

BRO THE FREAKING BEER THING. stop aaron sorkin david fincher you fucking menaces how dare you put that there. (46:58)

Eduardo’s “oh my god…” at 51:29 when he realizes that they are in the stall next to them

THE LOOK AT 52:09. OMG KILL ME RN.

Eduardo’s sad and painful look at Mark after Sy brings up animal cruelty, like ‘really, you went that low?’ - 1:12:39

Marks tap on Sys shoulder saying ‘stop no don’t go there’ - 1:12:42

The parallel of how happy and jokey Mark is when in the dorm during the chicken scene with Wardo being put side by die with how hostile they are and how sad he looks in the deposition scenes. he never once smiles.

Marks sad look at Eduardo after being exposed - 1:14:39

Eduardo’s disbelief at Mark going so low as the chicken thing 1:14:41

Mark opening his mouth to protest against 1:14:43

the pain in Eduardo’s eyes after Mark makes a half joke that probably would used to make him laugh. also the look of betrayal and the eyes that say I don’t even know you anymore. 1:18:17

The disconnect between Mark and Sean. “Ever think about that girl?” “No???” 1:23:52

How so genuinely happy Mark looks when greeting Eduardo in Cali. The little grin. The surprising him. The wack on the arm. the ‘Wardo’. - 1:30:50

“I want- i-i want- I need you.” aaron. sorkin. what. the. fuck.

“I didn’t know whether to dress for the party or the business meeting, so i kinda dressed for both.” (1:41:51) Um aaron you did not have to go so deep with that one my god do you ever think of our feelings.

The piano coming in at 1:43:46 after the reveal is just so heartbreaking.

The PAINNNNN in his voice at “You set me up 😕” (1:43:51)

Throughout the whole confrontation scene, Mark looks like he’s going to cry. so so badly. especially at 1:44:50 like PAIN. And 1:45:27, “Yeah” - 1:45:50, and the REPEATING “You didn’t have to be that rough on him.” (1:46:00).

When he hit 1,000,000 people on HIS OWN WEBSITE he looks downright depressed. not happy in the slightest. he just hit this amazing milestone. should be like the happiest moment of his life. yet he looks like he wants to cry. I wonder why. 1:47:10-1:47:20

Marks outfit during the deposition w the Winklevi being a collared shit and sweater, outfit during the first deposition with Eduardo being a half zip up, and then wearing a FULL SUIT for the second one?? okay then

You don’t really realize it but I think it’s fitting that the last we see of Eduardo the whole movie is the confrontation. Like chronologically, he’s in it for way after, but with the actual editing and all the time skips, his last line is “Makes me look so tough” and thats the last we see him. pretty cool.

through the whole movie just THEIR FACIAL EXPRESSIONS DURING THE DEPOSITION. the SADNESS and REGRET constantly portrayed in mark. the PAIN AND BETRAYAL constant in Eduardo.

THE MOTHER FUCKING NORTH FACE ZIP-UP. WHAT THE HELL DAVID FINCHER. yeah this was genuinely insane tho. like that was unhinged. aaron sorkin, david fincher, AND WHOEVER THE BLESSED COSTUME DEISGNER WAS, reached new levels. we could’ve chalked everything up to gay people always looking for gay people in film, for exaggerating things that were only slightly there because of the need for more representation. but the north face zip up?? come on. I need to get me one of those now. the timeline makes so perfect sense too. We see Eduardo first wearing it when chilling in his dorm - 31:25. Then we next see him in it when at the intern “interviews” - 1:16:20. Then we don’t see if again for a little while, until MARK wears it during the business meeting - 1:33:52. This happens AFTER Eduardo visits Pao Alto. So he goes to Cali, presumably leaves the zip-up, (maybe even gives it??) and then ever since then Mark wears it in almost EVERY SINGLE scene. Because he misses Wardo. ITS INSANE. Like, the business meeting, then the phone call to Wardo. - 1:36:25. Then he wears it during the whole conformation, and is still wearing it later that night when Sean calls him. Like wow. That right there? Insanity. Purely CANONICAL gay insanity

and finally just some more character noticings. I really just love Divya omg. and the winklevii. like they r just so comedic at times. the first time i watched i viewed ty and cam as like one entity, but this time i really payed attention and like they r so different. cam usually takes the lead and he is very level minded and calm, while tyler is very hotheaded.

The first time andrew garfield just captivated me. i mean duh, he’s andrew garfield. but this time i just, wow. JESSE. he was perfect. PERFECT. best actor should’ve been his hands down. every single word he said was so calculated and made so much sense for his character like. and the real best part of his acting was his reactions, to everything that everyone else said. like he knocked it out of the park completely.

[colorfulandblack]

Ok, but I'm immensely curious of motives behind Sean's protective nature.

I mean Marion literally saw most likely all of them die one way or another and he just prevents it with his premonitions and soaks those marks. He's protective of the people he cares about

Sean though? He's obviously just as protective as Marion's or Jean (who deserves mad props for patching others up) but his way is just throwing himself headfirst into danger so others won't get hurt.

It could be just his personality, he did say and Marion confirmed that he and his brothers jumped in front of trains for FUN but it could be something else.

I was thinking about the fact that his brothers died and he didn't know about it for a while, and this may be the source of him needing to protect people around him because he couldn't protect his brothers but that bids the question how old were his siblings? I would make (more) sense if he were older than his brothers but he did say he enlisted illegally at the age of 16/17so I would be weird if his brothers got into army even younger. It could be that he is just a protector, it's his nature but it's doesn't fit as well for me

Also he's been through thick and thin with Marion as he mentioned he dragged him along with his brothers to the metro tunnels so I'm assuming they've known each other for a while and notice how he checks in with Marion every one and then especially regarding his abilities. It seems like he's worried for what would happen to Marion if people knew what he could do.

He also seems like a poster boy for a person with a hero complex, deflect and ignore his own problems and demons and just focus on others. Man literally doesn't spare a second glance at a spidery shadow monster after shooting it just "that's taken care of I'm tossing a rope, moving onto next thing", shots an Eldrich terror in the face but flinches at own reflection. Because supernatural shit can be dealt with shotguns and grenades but his own demons can't be. Is he subconsciously throwing himself into danger so he won't have to face his own trauma and in worst outcome die which means he definitely won't have to solve his problems or is just just defecting really hard?

All of those above could factor in here.

And let us not forget about that bomb he dropped at the lighthouse. The "weapons" he killed that were pretty humane and I got a sense that they were either very young or children form the way they were described (but I might be wrong) again he was following orders but he must have felt conflicted and in a sense helpless which now by protecting others he wants to redeem himself.

I might be reading to much into it. It might be just *trauma* which you know shows up and messes with a person in many ways.

I might also do a longer post on others from Thread and Needle but that's it for now

[mikaela-granger]

The Long Wait Chapter 10 –

Out and About (Lorelei’s POV)

Fandom: Grimm

Pairing: Sean Renard/OFC

The Long Wait Masterlist

A/N: And now we have Sean and Lorelei's day out from her POV. I hope you enjoy it. Don't forget to interact. If you want to be tagged when the next chapter comes out, let me know in the comments.

Lorelei was a little anxious during the week leading up to, well she couldn’t call it a date, but day out with Sean. The spicy dream she had was still at the forefront of her mind.  It was causing her to question if Sean Renard was indeed her soulmate.  It may explain why he seemed to go out of his way to interact with her. It couldn’t be just because she was the younger sister of one of his detectives. Lorelei couldn’t recall if dreams played a role in helping identify your soulmate. She had explored the section on soulmates in the library and had found that some people did dream about their soulmates. However, there was conflicting information about whether that was due to the soulmate bond or if it was a coincidence. The only definitive way to identify one’s soulmate was by comparing marks. Lorelei did recall a classmate stating her attraction to her soulmate was instantaneous, that she was drawn to him. Another classmate noted that he and his soulmate did not get along at first. He found her attractive, but it took some time before the romantic attraction had started. They had known each other for a few years before anything happened between them; and it wasn’t until they started dating when they discovered they were soulmates. Lorelei decided to see what happened before her and Sean. It was possible they were not soulmates, and he simply liked her as a person. Her dream could just be a manifestation of her attraction to him.

Lorelei did find herself distracted, when Nick called her. He was filling her in on a case involving wesen and some ancient coins. He also told her about Farley Colt, who according to him had been engaged to Aunt Marie before their parents died.

“Aunt Marie was engaged to a wesen?” Lorelei asked in surprise. Her aunt had been single the entire time Nick and Lorelei had lived with her. She had never mentioned being involved with someone or a past engagement. Let alone to a wesen.

“Apparently.” Nick replied. “Although I’m not sure how much I trust this guy. Something about him seems off.”

“Probably wouldn’t mind getting him hands on the coins himself.” Lorelei commented and Nick hummed in agreement.

It was a couple of days later when Lorelei heard from Nick again. He updated her on the case, including the fact he was now in possession of the coins, hiding them away so no one could get their hands on them. Apparently, they had briefly ended up in the hands of Sean Renard. Nick believed their influence was why he had decided to announce to the press his plan to crack down on crime in the city. Lorelei was concerned to hear that Sean was assaulted for the coins in his possession. After hanging up with Nick, she had reached out the Sean to check up on him. He had a mild concussion but was otherwise fine. Lorelei had offered to put off their plans, however the captain had insisted he was fine. Lorelei begrudgingly accepted that, even though she thought Sean could probably do with some rest. No idea what other impact those coins could have had on him. The pair finalised their plans for Saturday, with Sean insisting he could pick Lorelei up from school.

Come Saturday morning, Lorelei found herself fluttering around her dorm, trying to decide what to wear. Sean had advised her to wear something comfortable but hadn’t provided any more information about what they were doing. She tried on several different outfits before deciding on a pair of black jeans, a camisole and green long-sleeved shirt. They would pair nicely with a pair of her boots and black jacket. She added some light makeup and decided on leaving her long hair down. Lorelei was finishing up her hair when she heard a knock on her door. He must be here. “Coming.” Lorelei called out, double checking her hair before she hurried over to open the door. Lorelei couldn’t stop the smile that crossed her face when she saw Sean standing at her door. She was surprised to see him wearing such casual clothes, a knit sweater and pair of dark pants.

“Sean, hey! How are you feeling?” she asked, making out some faint bruising on his face.

Sean returned her smile. “Hello Lorelei, I’m fine. As I told you, it was a mild concussion.”

 “Please come in, I just have to put my shoes on.” She told him, turning around to find her shoes. “Now, what did I do with them?”

Lorelei spotted the boots she wanted sitting by her desk. She picked them up, trying to steady her racing heart. Lorelei was taken back to her dream, where Sean had come to her room late at night. ‘Nothing like that is going to happen, calm yourself. Don’t make things weird’ she chided herself. She grabbed her boots and sat down on the sofa, quickly putting them on and lacing up the straps.

“So, what are todays plans?” Lorelei asked him, as she finished tightening up the laces.

Sean, who had been glancing around her room, looked over at her “Have you had a chance to visit Pittock Mansion yet? He asked.

 “No, not yet. I’ve been wanting to.” Lorelei told him, she went to grab her jacket, where it was sitting over the end of the sofa. Sean quickly grabbed it, holding it open for her. Lorelei felt her cheeks warm up, there was something very intimate about the action. She allowed him to help her into the jacket, directing a thanks over her shoulder. Lorelei finished zipping up her jacket and grabbed what she would need for the day.

“I remember you mentioning you liked history. I thought you would appreciate the history behind the mansion.” Sean commented.

Lorelei offered him a wide smile. “Your thoughts were correct. As I said, I’ve been wanting to see it.”

The pair left her dorm and headed outside. Sean surprised Lorelei again, when he opened the passenger side door for her. Lorelei hadn’t been on a date before, but it seemed to be date-like behaviour. Did Sean intend for this to be a date? No, he was just being a gentleman. Trying to stay out of her own head, Lorelei asked Sean how long he had been in Portland for, as they left the campus.

Sean glanced at her. “Around sixteen years,” he replied. “I moved here in 1995 when I joined the academy.”

Lorelei nodded. “Wow, it has been a while.” She noted. “The longest I ever lived somewhere was Baltimore. We moved around a lot when I was younger but when I started college, Aunt Marie decided to settle in Baltimore until I finished.” Sean hummed, to acknowledge he was listening “Where did you live before Portland?”

Sean let out a breath. “Much like yourself, I moved a lot when I was younger.” He told her. “I was born in Europe. My mother and I moved to the US when I was twelve.”

“Oh wow, Europe huh?” Lorelei commented. Sean hummed again, his eyes on the road. “I…” Lorelei trailed off as her phone let out a tone. “Excuse me.” She said, pulling it from her bag. Lorelei glanced at it briefly before returning her phone to her bag.

“Is it important?” Sean asked.

Lorelei shook her head. “Nah, it’s just Nick.” She told him. “I’ll reply later.”

“Does Nick know you are spending the day with me?” Sean enquired.

“Nope. I think he might get a little weird about me hanging out with his boss.” Lorelei replied. She was afraid Nick might have a problem with her spending time with his boss. He might also assume the pair were dating and go all overprotective brother on Sean. Lorelei didn’t know what was happening between her and Sean, but she didn’t want her brother involved.

Sean glanced at her as they left the city centre, the buildings becoming far and few between as more greenery emerged. “Do you think it’s weird?” he asked her.

Lorelei laughed. “No. I mean, you’re not my boss.” She stated.

Sean smiled. “No, I am not.” He agreed.

Lorelei continued to observe the scenery, pointing out the Japanese Gardens and expressing her desire to visit them when the weather warmed up.

“I would suggest waiting. They are even more beautiful in the spring.” Sean told her. “It is one of my favourite places in Portland.”

“You’ll have to give me the tour then. Spring break starts at the end of March. If you are free, then?” Lorelei said,

“I will make time.” Sean told her. Lorelei felt herself blush again, she seemed to be doing that a lot today. A busy man like Sean going out of his way to make time for her, a grad school student.

They arrived at Pittock Mansion, and once again Sean opened the car door for Lorelei. They headed toward the mansion. Lorelei was looking around it awe. It was a beautiful old house. Sean paid for their tickets and began leading her through the house and the surrounding grounds. Lorelei felt a desire to get to know the police captain more, so between his history lessons, Lorelei instigated a game of twenty questions. Sean’s favourite colour was blue, favourite food was French, he could speak French, German, and Russian fluently as well as some Latin, Greek, and Arabic. She also learned he had an appreciation for classical music and the finer things in life. Once they finished up at Pittock Mansion, they headed back into the city to have lunch.

The restaurant wasn’t fine dining, but it was certainly upmarket. Sean once again surprised Lorelei, by helping her into her chair once they arrived at the table.

“Any suggestions?” Lorelei asked Sean, as she looked over the menu. Everything looked amazing, she was having a hard time deciding.

“Their pappardelle mimmo is the best in the city.” He answered. “As is the aragosta.”

“Hmm, so many choices.” Lorelei said, looking over the menu again.

The waitress returned with their drinks and to take their food order. Lorelei was surprised when Sean poured some of the wine he ordered into the wine glass in front of her. She raised an eyebrow, and he shot her a smile. “I won’t tell if you won’t.” he said in a low voice. She returned the smile and reached for the glass.

“Mmm, that is lovely.” Lorelei stated after trying some. “It beats the stuff I tried at the last party I went to. Nasty stuff.” She shook her head, recalling what had been available at a frat party she had attended.

Sean laughed. “Ah yes. I had my fair share of awful booze during my college years.” He told her. “Do you attend many parties?”

Lorelei shook her head. “Not really. I went to a few when I first arrived, but it’s not really my scene.” Lorelei considered herself an introvert, she didn’t mind the odd party but she preferred smaller, more intimate gatherings.

The appetizers arrived and as they ate, Sean asked Lorelei about her future career plans. She outlined career plans, as well as her plans for her Masters project.

Sean raised an eyebrow, looking impressed. “Oh, you’re already making plans for that.”

Lorelei nodded and explained that her work supervisor was also a supervisor for research projects at the college. She provided some more information about her plans for the project when he asked, trying to refrain from nerding out on him. Lorelei was aware that not everyone would be as interested in her plans as she was, but Sean had asked, and he didn’t seem to mind listening.

 “I look forward to hearing more about it.” He told Lorelei, who blushed slightly again.

“Sorry, I can nerd out a bit about this kind of stuff.” She said, fiddling with her fork as she glanced down at her plate.

Sean laughed. “No need to apologise. It’s something you are passionate about. Feel free to ‘nerd out’ whenever you wish.”

Lorelei couldn’t stop the smile that spread across her face. Sean was really different from other people. Most people weren’t overly interested in the same things that she was and although Sean was not well versed in the topic, he seemed to want to hear more.

“These cannolis are amazing, but that tiramisu looks great.” Lorelei commented. Sean had insisted on desert and Lorelei had caved. Lorelei was surprised when Sean scooped up a spoonful of his tiramisu and offered it to her. “Are you sure?” she asked and after Sean assured her, he was, she leant forward and took a bite, very aware that the spoon previously been in his mouth. “Wow, that is the best tiramisu I have ever had.” she stated, hoping Sean wouldn’t notice her breathy tone.

“I agree.” Sean said, his gaze intense before it returned to his desert.

Lunch was followed by a visit to a nearby art museum, one Lorelei had already visited but was eager to see again. Sean was interested in what it had been like growing up with Nick and Lorelei shared some stories.

“Despite being older than me, he never seemed to mind hanging out with me.” Lorelei had told Sean. “Never complained about having to take me to school or pick me up. Never complained about having to babysit me when Aunt Marie was at work. I’ve met some people who complain about having to do that, but Nick…he never made me feel like I was an annoyance. He’s always doted on me, treated me as child when others seemed to forget that.”

The deep and meaningful conversation shifted towards funny stories. After one story, Lorelei noticed that Sean seemed to have been distracted by his own thoughts, his face hardening slightly.

“Are you ok?” Lorelei asked him, tentatively placing her hand on his arm.

Sean shook his head slightly, bringing himself out of his head. “Ah yes. Just thinking about my own brother.”

Lorelei was surprised. “Oh, you have a brother as well.”

“Yes. I have a half-brother. We do not get along, not like you and Nick.” He told her.

Lorelei nodded in understanding. “I am lucky.” She acknowledged. “I knew a girl who had an older brother. Similar age difference to me and Nick. He pretty much ignored her existence. It used to bother her a lot.”

They continued through the museum before leaving. Sean navigated his car back towards the campus to drop Lorelei off. He questioned if she would be living in the dorms next year and she confirmed she planned to move off campus. She was expressing her desire to get a pet when Sean pulled up in front of her dorm. They finished up their conversation, and Lorelei glanced outside, feeling disappointed that the day was over. She had a great time; Sean was very knowledgeable and a great conversationalist.

 “Well, this looks like my stop.” She looked back at Sean. “Thank you. I had a great day. You are a great tour guide.”

Sean smiled down at her. “You are most welcome. It was a great day. And Portland is a big city. Plenty more to see.” He said, giving her a look. Hoping she was right, Lorelei mentioned he should call her when he had some free time.

There was a moment of silence and Lorelei could feel Sean’s intense gaze on her. She found her own gaze drop down to his lips, feeling the urge to lean across the centre consol and kiss him. Catching herself before she acted, Lorelei spun around to open the door before she did something she could regret.

 “Thanks again Sean. I’ll see you later. Have a good night.” Lorelei quickly exited the car and made her way to the front doors of her dorm building.  She could feel Sean’s eyes on her and glanced back at him, offering a quick wave before she continued inside.

Lorelei quickly rushed toward her room, returning the greetings of some people she was friendly with. Once inside, she dropped her bag and flopped down on her bed, letting out a long breath. Lorelei had never felt such an intense urge to kiss anyone before. Thankfully she was able to stop herself before doing something she may have regretted. She liked Sean, even if he wasn’t interested in that way she would like to keep him as a friend. And making a move that could be one-sided could ruin that.

Next Part

Taglist: @zoexme

[adrealucia]

New Beginnings

tags: post Blood Brothers ending, Sean Diaz x Reader, might contain smut in future chapters, lots of fluff, romantic fluff, overall just fucking wholesome, obviously mentions Daniel quite often, sfw in the beginning, maybe nsfw in the future idk, definitely slow burn, female reader

chapter summary: you make a surprising discovery

Chapter seven

The next morning, you wake up on the couch feeling surprisingly refreshed, despite the drinks from the night before. You stretch and look around, realizing that Sean and Daniel are already up and about.

Sean comes into the living room, carrying a tray with coffee and breakfast. “Good morning, sleepyhead. How are you feeling?”

You sit up, rubbing your eyes. “Morning. I’m actually feeling pretty good. Thanks for the coffee.”

Sean sets the tray down and sits next to you. “No problem. Daniel’s already made himself scarce. I think he’s out and about somewhere.”

You take a sip of coffee, enjoying the warmth. “I hope he’s okay. Last night was really fun.”

Sean smiles, his eyes twinkling with a mix of affection and amusement. “Yeah, he enjoyed it too. He was just asking me some questions before he went off to do his own thing.”

“Oh? What kind of questions?” you ask, curious.

Sean chuckles. “Oh, just about us, really. He’s a bit of a matchmaker at heart.”

You laugh softly. “Well, I hope he’s not planning any surprise proposals or anything.”

Sean grins, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “No, nothing like that. But he does care a lot, and he wants the best for both of us.”

As the morning progresses, you and Sean enjoy breakfast together, talking about your plans for the day and reminiscing about last night. The connection between you deepens, marked by the ease and affection that has developed over the past weeks.

The day stretches out before you, filled with possibilities and the promise of more shared adventures. The future remains uncertain, but one thing is clear: you and Sean are creating something special, one day at a time.

You leave the Diaz house with a sense of warmth and excitement, the memory of the night’s festivities lingering in your mind. As you drive home, the familiar streets seem to take on a new sheen, reflecting the hopeful and slightly anxious feelings you’re experiencing.

Back at your place, you take some time to reflect on the growing connection between you and Sean. The evening had been magical, and you can’t help but wonder where this path might lead. The way he looks at you, the ease of your conversations, and the genuine care he shows—it all feels so right. Yet, there’s a flutter of uncertainty. Is this too good to be true? How will this relationship fit into your life?

Sitting at your desk, you pull out your notebook and begin to jot down ideas for one of your ongoing writing projects. The inspiration flows effortlessly, spurred by the emotions and experiences you’ve had recently. Each word you write feels like a step towards something new and exciting, and you lose yourself in the creative process, feeling more connected to your work than ever before.

The next day, a spark of excitement and newfound inspiration drives you to visit the Diaz garage unannounced. You’ve been mulling over some new business ideas, eager to discuss them with Sean. The desire to see him again adds a spring to your step as you make the spontaneous visit.

As you pull up to the garage, you notice the doors are open, and the familiar sounds of tools and machinery hum from within. You park and walk toward the garage, your thoughts racing about how to present your new ideas to Sean. The anticipation of seeing his reaction and sharing your progress fills you with a sense of purpose.

Stepping inside, you see Sean working on a car, deeply engrossed in his task. You take a moment to admire his focus and skill, the way his hands move deftly, his brow furrowed in concentration. Just as you’re about to call out to him, a strange, soft rustling sound from the corner of the garage catches your attention.

Turning your head, you’re stunned to see Daniel standing near a workbench. His hands are extended toward a pile of tools, which are floating in mid-air, suspended by an unseen force. Daniel’s eyes are closed in concentration, and he seems completely absorbed in the display of telekinesis.

Your breath catches in your throat. For a moment, you think you’re dreaming. The logical part of your mind struggles to process what you’re seeing. This can’t be real—people don’t just move things with their minds. Your heart races, and a wave of panic surges through you.

You back away slowly, your mind whirling with confusion and fear. Just as you turn to leave, Sean looks up from his work, noticing your sudden change in demeanor.

“Hey, are you okay?” Sean’s voice is filled with concern. He walks over, his brow furrowed. “You look pale. What’s wrong?”

You can’t find the words to explain or even process what you’ve just witnessed. The only thing you know is that you need to get away. “I... I’m sorry, I need to go,” you manage to stammer, your voice barely above a whisper.

Sean’s face falls, and he reaches out a hand as if to stop you. “Wait, let me explain! This isn’t—”

But you’re already rushing out of the garage, your footsteps echoing on the concrete floor. You fumble with your car keys, your hands shaking as you start the engine. The drive home is a blur of erratic thoughts and a growing sense of disbelief.

Back at your apartment, you pace around, trying to make sense of what you saw. The excitement of your visit has turned into a knot of anxiety. You sit down, trying to calm yourself. Is this some sort of elaborate joke? Did you imagine it? What does this mean for your relationship with Sean?

The quiet of your house does little to soothe your frazzled nerves. The normalcy of your surroundings feels alien and distant compared to the whirlwind of emotions you’re experiencing. You question your own sanity, the sight of Daniel’s telekinesis playing over and over in your mind.

You sit on the couch, hugging a pillow to your chest. The familiar comfort of your living room feels strangely uninviting. Your thoughts are a tangled mess of fear, confusion, and a deep sense of betrayal. How could something like this be hidden from you? Were they planning to tell you? Or were you never meant to find out?

You recall every interaction with Sean and Daniel, scrutinizing every detail, searching for any signs you might have missed. The weight of the secret presses down on you, making it hard to breathe.

As the evening approaches, you feel more isolated than ever. The discovery has left you disoriented, and the only thing you’re certain of is that you need some time to figure things out before confronting Sean again. The shadows lengthen outside your window, mirroring the shadows of doubt in your mind.

You try to distract yourself with a book, but the words blur together, and you can’t focus. The sight of Daniel’s telekinesis keeps replaying in your mind, each replay heightening your anxiety. You wonder if you’re losing your grip on reality.

The day ends with more questions than answers. As you try to unwind, you find it difficult to focus on anything other than the strange and troubling discovery. You drift into a restless sleep, the shadows of uncertainty hanging heavy over your dreams.

The next morning, you wake up with a heavy heart. The events of the previous day weigh on you, but you know you can’t avoid the truth forever. You need to understand what’s happening, and more importantly, you need to decide how you feel about it.

You decide to take a walk to clear your head. The fresh air and the sound of birds chirping help to calm your nerves. As you walk, you think about Sean and Daniel, the bond you’ve formed with them, and the potential for something more with Sean. But now, everything feels uncertain.

You sit on a bench in the park, watching the world go by. You see families playing, friends chatting, and couples holding hands. It reminds you of what you want—a sense of normalcy, of connection. But how can you have that when the world you thought you knew has been turned upside down?

After some time, you stand up, feeling a newfound determination. You need answers, and you need to hear them from Sean and Daniel. You need to understand what’s happening, and you need to decide if you can accept it.

With a deep breath, you head back to your house. You know the conversation ahead won’t be easy, but you also know that you can’t move forward without it. The future remains uncertain, but one thing is clear: you need to face the truth, no matter how unsettling it may be.

The next morning, after a restless night filled with fragmented dreams and unanswered questions, you wake up feeling determined. You know you can't avoid the truth forever. The sooner you understand what’s happening, the sooner you can decide how to move forward. Taking a deep breath, you get dressed and head out to your car, driving back to the Diaz house with a mix of trepidation and resolve.

As you pull up to the familiar garage, you see Sean outside, working on a car. He looks up and immediately notices your anxious expression. Concern flashes across his face, and he sets down his tools, walking toward you with a cautious but hopeful look.

“Hey,” Sean says softly, his voice filled with worry. “I’m really sorry about how you found out yesterday. That wasn’t how I wanted you to learn about… all of this.”

You nod, swallowing the lump in your throat. “Can we talk? I need to understand what’s going on.”

Sean gestures toward the house. “Of course. Let’s go inside.”

Once inside, you both sit down on the couch. Sean takes a deep breath, gathering his thoughts before he begins. “It all started with our dad’s death,” he says, his voice heavy with emotion. “He was shot by a cop, and everything just… spiraled out of control from there.”

He pauses, looking at you to gauge your reaction. You nod, urging him to continue.

“After that, Daniel’s powers started to manifest. It was terrifying and confusing for both of us. We didn’t know what was happening or how to control it. We were scared, and we felt like we had no one to turn to.” Sean's eyes glaze over as he recalls the harrowing experiences.

“So we ran,” Sean continues. “We left Seattle and started moving south, trying to find a place where we could be safe. We had to lie, steal, and do things I’m not proud of just to survive. But through it all, we’ve had each other.”

Daniel appears in the doorway, having overheard part of the conversation. He steps into the room, looking both nervous and determined. “I’m sorry you had to see that yesterday,” Daniel says, his voice quiet but sincere. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

You nod, taking in the gravity of their situation. “I can’t imagine how hard it must have been for you two. I’m really sorry for everything you’ve had to go through.”

Daniel gives you a small, appreciative smile. “Do you want to see my powers? I can show you in a less… scary way.”

You hesitate but then nod. “Okay. I think that might help.”

Daniel looks around the room and spots a small, decorative bowl on the coffee table. He focuses on it, his eyes narrowing slightly. Slowly, the bowl rises into the air, hovering gently before floating over to you. He sets it down softly in your lap.

Your breath catches as you watch, a mix of awe and disbelief flooding your senses. “This is… incredible. But I don’t understand how it works. How can this be possible?”

Sean reaches out, taking your hand in his. “We don’t fully understand it either. But we’ve learned to accept it and live with it. Daniel’s powers are a part of who he is.”

You take a deep breath, trying to process everything. “I’m going to need some time to digest all of this. It’s a lot to take in.”

Sean squeezes your hand gently. “Take all the time you need. We’re here for you, and we’ll answer any questions you have.”

Despite the whirlwind of emotions and the mind-bending reality you’ve just been exposed to, you realize that your feelings for Sean and Daniel haven’t changed. If anything, you feel a deeper connection to them now, knowing the struggles they’ve faced and the strength they’ve shown.

“I’m really sorry for everything you two have been through,” you say, your voice filled with genuine compassion. “You didn’t deserve any of that. But I want you to know that I’m here for you. Both of you.”

Sean smiles, relief and gratitude evident in his eyes. “Thank you. That means a lot to us.”

As the conversation winds down, you feel a sense of tentative peace. There are still many questions and uncertainties, but you know one thing for sure: you’re in this together, and that makes all the difference.

After a moment of silence, curiosity starts to bubble up within you. You take a deep breath and decide to ask more questions. “How did you make it past the border? And why did you choose Mexico?”

Sean nods, understanding your need for answers. “It wasn’t easy. We had a lot of close calls, and there were times when I didn’t think we’d make it. We crossed the border with the help of some kind people we met along the way. It was a risky move, but staying in the U.S. wasn’t an option for us. We needed to find somewhere we could start over.”

You listen intently, hanging onto every word. “And why Mexico?”

Sean leans back, glancing at Daniel before answering. “Our dad was originally from Mexico. We thought coming here would give us a better chance to blend in and find some sort of stability. Plus, it felt like a way to reconnect with a part of our heritage. Our journey here wasn’t straightforward, though. We had to adapt and survive in ways we never imagined.”

Daniel chimes in, his voice soft but steady. “We’ve had to keep a low profile, but we’ve also met some amazing people who’ve helped us along the way. Like Mrs. Perez, for example. She’s been like family to us.”

You nod, absorbing their words. “It’s incredible how resilient you both are. It sounds like you’ve been through so much.”

Sean looks at you, his expression earnest. “We have, but we’ve also grown stronger because of it. And now, we have you. That means a lot to us.”

You smile, feeling a mix of emotions—compassion, admiration, and a growing sense of connection. “I’m glad I can be here for you. And I want to help in any way I can.”

Sean’s grip on your hand tightens slightly, his gratitude clear. “Thank you. It feels good to finally share this with someone who understands and doesn’t judge.”

Daniel nods in agreement. “Yeah, it’s been hard keeping this a secret. It’s nice to have someone else we can trust.”

You take a deep breath, feeling the weight of the situation but also a newfound sense of purpose. “Does anyone else know about Daniel’s powers?”

Sean shakes his head. “No one here in Mexico, except for you. Back in the States, a few people found out, but we had to keep moving to stay safe. That’s why it’s so important to keep this a secret.”

“I understand,” you say. “It’s a lot to take in, but I won’t tell anyone. I promise.”

Sean and Daniel both smile, the tension in the room easing. The bond between you grows stronger, forged by honesty and mutual support. You know there will be challenges ahead, but you’re ready to face them together.

The day stretches out before you filled with possibilities and the promise of more shared adventures. The future remains uncertain, but one thing is clear: you and the Diaz brothers are creating something special, one day at a time.

authors note: *jazz hands* SUPRISE!! hihi uhm yes Daniel has telekinesis and this story very much follows the end of the Blood Brother ending :)