#Nick is a sad sad engine/man now

[glasskey]

Lawrence & June's Mix tape Vol. 2

This mix tape contains easily my favourite Lawrence and June moments and it takes us all the way from the shadowy hallways of Lawrence’s abode to the far reaches of Canada.

I'll bet that felt good.

From the moment we meet Eleanor, she is seen constantly stifling a mouthful of secrets and covering up improprieties, like dead bodies with a pretty new flower bed. She’s the voice of Lawrence’s conscience and he does just about everything he can to keep her out of harm’s way. In the episode Unknown Caller we learn that Lawrence was once young and sensitive, partial to making Eleanor mixtapes, far from the shell of a man who now keeps her hidden.

After June and Eleanor’s jaunt down to Hannah’s school, Lawrence notices the fresh air and sunlight has done Eleanor the world of good. Consequently he asks June to start spending some time with her to hopefully alleviate the effect, the horror show he calls home, is having on his wife.

Never one to miss a trick, June takes the opportunity here to really stick the knife in Lawrence and give it a nice deep twist. Given the delicate state of his wife, why hasn’t he gotten her out? Doesn’t he realize he’s killing her with his own creation? June’s not asking questions, rather confronting Lawrence with the truth of what he already knows. Lawrence looks like he’s been hit, she’s found a deep painful recess where his guilt festers every single day. There’s no rage, no threat, nothing except suddenly the appearance of a deep wound as Lawrence chokes out the words “I bet that felt good”.

It seems both a dig at her for being so underhanded and an acknowledgement that June has so very many, many justifiable grievances. I mean who could blame her for wanting to indulge in a little knife twisting after so many years of abuse? June’s stay in Lawrence abode is simultaneously therapeutic, illuminating and empowering to say the least. Prior to this Gilead had been a nameless, faceless construct. Now June’s like Dorothy finally discovering what a huge liar the Wizard of Oz actually was, just a sad old man with a slight of hand and a world full of regret.

It came for you.

Lawrence has constantly argued the merits and rewards of Gilead with June, always assuming that he would never have to bear any of the costs, but this is the moment that he finally has to pay the piper. Lawrence is extremely skilled at psycho analysis of all those around him, but he can barely stomach the hideous reflection in the mirror. The fact is he’s a whole lot of talk and not much action, in other words, Lawrence isn’t a TRUE believer. If he was he would participate in the ceremony and he would demand compliance from Eleanor. From the get go their relationship appears different; he loves her, dotes on her, fiercely protects her and Junes attempts to manipulate him through acts of infidelity are brutally rebuffed. Eleanor is the figurative voice of conscience calling from beneath the floorboards, and it’s no coincidence that Lawrence goes to great lengths to keep her away from official guests lest she blabs.

During the forced ceremony she screams and wails loudly, Lawrence pleads for her to be quiet, pledging his undying love and begging for her forgiveness for doing the one thing he swore he would never do. It’s all for naught, Eleanor is absolutely inconsolable, he promised this would never happen. It’s fucking heartbreaking to see Eleanor’s incredible distress at what is about to happen to June, she’s fragile, helpless and utterly cornered. Ironically it is June who soothes her and leads Lawrence through what must be done.

This ceremony engineered by Fred, is the moment that directly results in Eleanor’s death in later episodes. This scene elicites the devastatingly cool and casual “at least it wasn’t you” mic drop from June, and undoubtedly earned Fred a blind eye from Lawrence as Nick dragged him off to die. During S3 we observe a growing if not begrudging respect for June from Lawrence and the idea that he now has to rape this woman in front of his beloved wife is utterly horrifying. June sits waiting calmly for the inevitable, she understands this moment of panic and trauma all too well, and above all the absolute futility of fighting it. This is the moment that Gilead in its full walking womb, horror show glory “Comes to his door”, and rips the veil off Lawrence’s illusions. His wife is the voice of empathy and conscience and he finally understands, his monstrous creation will surely kill her sooner or later. As Lawrence and June share a drink, he offers June a way out and a means of escape for his wife, but as we later learn, tragically it’s too little too late. The deed is done and for the remaining seasons Eleanor will haunt Lawrence’s every step

You really think this is still your house?

The beginning of the episode Mayday scares the absolute shit out of me, June is just getting her first introduction to Gilead, watching women being brutally categorized as she is herded into the back of a truck. June begs for help, the guard remains indifferent. The entire scene reeks of desperation, fear and dark unknown territory. Deep trauma lives here. “To the ruthless go the spoils” June muses, so what is she willing to do to get 52 children out of Gilead? Everything it seems, for her power now lies in her willingness to die for her cause. June officially has nothing to lose and everything to gain; she doesn’t know where Hannah is and Nick is very likely dead. For a dictatorship like Gilead that relies on fear to maintain order, individuals like these that inspire leadership, are a fucking nightmare.

The minute June returned from the hospital, super twitchy and scheming gleefully about escape plans openly, Lawrence should have known his power was a thing of the past. From the very first shot of this end of season showdown between June and Lawrence, it’s obvious he’s not going to win this one. June sits at the head of a long dining table with a gun in the center like her sword laid out for battle. Lawrence ever the expert in human behavior, senses June’s dangerous instability. He tries to gently navigate her and wrestle back control without enraging her further. She plays with her gun like she’s twirling her hair, musing over the brutal injustice of being a woman in Gilead.

“This is still my house, young lady” he stammers pathetically in the face of her frightening new found power. “You really think this is still your house?” she scoffs, his home is festering with rebels and his previous authority now means nothing. As Osborn so eloquently warned him at the start of the season “they’ll put you on the wall, even a commander”. With the words “get me a fucking map”, Osborne makes it clear that not only will Lawrence be steering clear of their plans, he WILL help facilitate them. The reality is Lawrence willingly relinquished his control the minute he adopted the most notorious handmaid in Gilead and turned his home into a half-way house for rebels. “You’re not going to be any trouble are you?” Lawrence asks June when she first arrives “No sir” she replies, but make no mistake, news of June Osborne had reached his gilded prison long ago.

Gilead's gonna Gilead.

In S5 the boundaries between Canada and Gilead began to get a little hazy, with audiences wondering why Lawrence was able suddenly to stroll in and out of Canada. As we later discovered this blurring of the lines was an intentional device used to demonstrate Gilead’s ability to seep across the border. At the inception of New Bethlehem, Lawrence shows up on June’s doorstep to ask for her help to make it look legit. She’ll get to live there with Nick, Luke, Hannah and Nicole, like one big Gilead sized Brady bunch, but there’s just one catch; Hannah still has to do the whole “child bride” thing. She’s seriously conflicted, understandably she is desperate to be with her child but this is a bridge too far. She pleads with Lawrence to stop it and he shrugs it off with an almost resolute “Gilead’s gonna Gilead”. June launches into a blistering attack about how he’s responsible for all of Gilead’s horror but apparently she’s not telling him anything he doesn’t already know.

“I was trying to save humanity…..and I did it, I fucking did it, then it got away from me….it went septic”. Lawrence is calculating and manipulative, however June always manages to pry out his emotional core and here he finally breaks down admitting the incredible weight of his conscience. He can barely live with himself; Gilead’s like a wound and Lawrence is desperately trying to stop the rot. Currently Gilead looks like a U.N. nightmare, but perhaps given a generation or two the fanaticism may ease up just a wee bit, he argues to a skeptical June. Hannah might get the short end of the stick but Nicole won’t. He needs June’s thumbs up if he wants to actually get any outside residents to pull up sticks and move there.

But Lawrence also needs HER, he knows that in the larger scheme of things Osborne gets shit done. Lawrence may have built the village, but he’s certainly smart enough to realize that it was the gutsy little handmaid who managed to smuggle out a planeload of children, when all he’d done was sit around in his dusty old house for nigh on a decade.

Cups of sugar

Make no mistake, this IS the Lawrence and June break up scene and it’s no coincidence that next episode Nick and Lawrence break up too. Here the gloves are off, Lawrence tries to lure her with the promise of Hannah and Nick, but in exchange he demands she relinquish her pride and forsake her beliefs. June is enraged that they are being used as bartering chips. It’s crystal clear in this moment that just as Lawrence has the power to withhold Hannah from June, so too he holds Nick firmly in his clutches.

Lawrence’s reference to Nick and June’s relationship to “a cup of sugar” is dropped as a humorous quip but it’s insultingly reductionist and he knows it. Just as living next door to her enslaved daughter should be enough, an affair with the man she loves should also suffice. As far as Lawrence is concerned, June should be grateful, just as Nick should be grateful for his pseudo family in the burbs, why can’t they just be happy with the scraps?

June doesn’t pull any punches, here she tells him point blank that his dear departed wife had died from the heartbreak of the man he’d become. She reveals she’d watched Eleanor die and did nothing to stop it. Despite his existing suspicions, Lawrence is devastated by June’s admission none the less. I was reminded of the June and Serena break up scene in S3 in which they both collapsed into a smoldering, teary wreck of raw brutal truth. Lawrence spent both S4 and 5 trying to become “a better man” but ultimately he couldn’t help himself. He’s a political animal, and after losing Eleanor, giving Gilead a nice little make over was pretty much all he had left to live for. Lawrence knew that Nick and June were desperate to be a family again and he used it for currency to bring one of Gilead’s most notorious rebels to heel, and hopefully his own life some meaning.

Instead of thanking him for his offer, June promptly disintegrates into an inhumane fit of furious rage. Lawrence’s proposal of a life half lived in New Bethlehem is nothing but an attempt to bend June to Gilead’s will once again, and a way to hopefully finally ease his conscience. I was always confident in Lawrence’s abilities to maneuver pieces across the board, but watching June literally frothing at the mouth and seething with venom, I couldn’t help but wonder if maybe Lawrence hadn’t gotten just a tad bit greedy this time, and bitten off more than he could chew.

Join me next time for a Mixtape from our favourite S4 and 5 bromance: Nick and Lawrence.

[nanomooselet]

Episode Seven: Wolfwood

It's a lovely evening in No Man's Land, and you are a horrible cultist.

The more I think about the idea that Legato wasn't ordered to do this, the more sense it makes to me. Let's do a count of assets this craziness puts into peril. We have the Punisher, highly chemically compatible and on an assignment already, who really doesn't need to be under more stress. We have the Doublefang, who's even better than the Punisher since he heals without the drugs, and through him Wolfwood learns that the Eye of Michael can't be trusted to keep its word.

We have the Plant aboard the steamer, as Zazie points out, and I'm not sure Legato is as concerned about it as he claims to be. We have the steamer itself, a relic of the spacefaring age with plenty of still-functional technology on board even if the humans can't do much with it. (And isn't that interesting? They seem to have just stuck a steam engine in there and closed off the rest. Cool worldbuilding details.) It travels to and from July - I suspect it carries at least some cargo and personnel for the cult. Speaking of, we have Hopeland Orphanage and its stock of potential subjects, which we know for a fact the Eye has its stamp on.

Finally we have Vash, who's one of the cult's figures of worship. He's the only living thing that Legato's "beautiful angel" truly cares about. Even if Legato's plan is a success, is achieving Wolfwood's perfect loyalty worth losing any one of the rest, let alone Vash? I really have to wonder how Legato planned to explain any of this.

Of course, he does explain, doesn't he? You must give up on your little brother and face reality. I must take everything you love from you so that you can fulfil your noble purpose as a weapon. What we're seeing is Legato's first demonstration of his character to come, building sadistic traps to force painful choices upon his target, but also a glimpse of what awaits Vash at the end of his journey. Where could Legato have learned his definition of love? And let's not forget that he refers to his feelings as love in the first place.

He's such a drama queen. Can't wait to see him ruining everything next season.

So much in this two-parter is amazing, but I think a somewhat underrated moment is Vash preventing Wolfwood from killing Livio with that insane trick shot. My boy frees Wolfwood from a horrific mental trap because no one should have to choose between the things that they love, the things that keep them alive. Best of boys. Precious darling. He wants so, so badly for there to be a way out for him.

I'm hesitant to discuss Livio that much, because we, uh, really don't learn that much about him? We see the sad little boy in Nick's memories - which I have reason to suspect are not entirely the objective truth - and we have the stumbling puppet who boards the steamer. He isn't in a position to make his thoughts known, except once, and, well… it’s a decisive demonstration. But one that precludes any further participation. I have read the manga, yes, and I know what he's like there, but my feeling is that's more what he'll become than what he is now. There seems to be one fairly significant change, however: Razlo, and Livio's attitude toward him.

Razlo's there. I'm sure he's there. But is he always there in the same way? Is Livio so out of it because he's under the mask's control, or is it Razlo the mask keeps supressed? And when it becomes damaged, why does what Livio see in the mirror so horrify him? Does Livio even know who else is in his mind?

(We get our first glimpse of Chapel, too.)

(Somehow I feel like I'm not going to be a fan of this guy.)

They didn't save Livio, but he got to make a choice. Even if it was a choice they wish he hadn't made.

Speaking of choices!

Meryl and Roberto continue to be the show's main source of comedy - the dub work for the Bad Lads Gang is so funny. Poor Meryl's teary little face when they bring up the Worms. Them being all excited about getting on the cover of an outlaw magazine, whatever that is. Roberto just being all welp, this might as well happen when he learns the faltering steamer has a space age cannon stuck to the top and that still works.

Not enough booze in the world.

And then Meryl makes a choice. Roberto's right, on some level - they're not soldiers. They're not fighters. By any sane standard this is not their fucking job. But there is no one else who can do it. Regardless of ability, there's simply no one else who's been given the choice between standing there, taking the risk, or fleeing with the knowledge you could have done something and didn't. So Meryl makes her stand... and I realised that Roberto does too, because he faces the same choice. They all do! There's something they all want to protect more than anything else. Such different people with such vastly different skills and life experiences all have something in common, and they work together to realise their purpose. It's the second time in the series this has happened and disaster's been averted with their efforts. I just!

Of course then things get even crazier and we move into what might be among my favourite action sequences in the entire series? It's admittedly hard to narrow it down. This has been extensively dissected elsewhere, but it really might have the most beautiful cinematography (especially in the Plant room - ethereal, and then the hard cut comparison to the steel and scorching flesh of Wolfwood's efforts and I'm reduced to helpless arm-waving). But I think there's one detail I want to emphasise?

Cool watery blue and burning fiery orange-red, yes. Gorgeous contrast. But both also have just a dash of the opposing colours. The two aren't so far apart, each holding part of the other - fundamentally connected, in spite of all the ways they're different.

[rastronomicals]

2:28 PM EST November 26, 2023:

Fleetwood Mac - "Hypnotized" From the album Mystery to Me (October 15, 1973)

Last song scrobbled from iTunes at Last.fm

Truth be told, Fleetwood Mac and I have never really seen eye to eye. When I was growing up, at a time when Rumours was ubiquitous, the teenage metalhead and/or prog freak I purposely molded myself into wasn't part of their demographic. Not even close. And now that I more closely match that (older, white, politically liberal?) demographic, the ship that might have once done the soft California rock thing for me has long since sailed.

I may not hate them, but--with the one exception I'm getting to in my typically slow fashion--Fleetwood Mac's influence on my listening habits has been next to nil. "Rhiannon" and "Don't Stop" and the rest of the Mac's massive seventies radio hits have been like neutrinos, all around me, unavoidable, yet so wispy and insubstantial that they've passed through me inert and whole, colliding with nothing of myself, reacting with nothing at all I keep internal.

Words are funny things. Rotate them a quarter turn, and all their nuance changes. I dismiss Fleetwood Mac by saying they're "insubtantial," but 90 degrees away from insubstantial is "ethereal," and ethereal can produce a very nice feeling indeed.

"Hypnotized" is, I think, Fleetwood Mac rotated their own quarter turn.

It's the same kind of story That seems to come down from long ago Two friends having coffee together When something flies by their window It might be out on that lawn Which is wide, at least half of a playing field Because there's no explaining what your imagination Can make you see and feel

Seems like a dream They got me hypnotized

Now it's not a meaningless question To ask if they've been and gone I remember a talk about North Carolina and a strange, strange pond You see the sides were like glass In the thick of a forest without a road And if any man's hand ever made that land Then i think it would've showed

Seems like a dream They got me hypnotized

They say there's a place down in Mexico Where a man can fly over mountains and hills And he don't need an airplane or some kind of engine And he never will Now you know it's a meaningless question To ask if those stories are right 'cause what matters most if the feeling You get when you're hypnotized

Seems like a dream They got me hypnotized

Cadres of English blues fans and Peter Green cultists probably curse the name of Bob Welch for the band's detour into Yacht Rock after Welch arrived.

Fine. But to me, Welch's standing as one of the seventies' premier songwriters is cemented by this song and this song alone. And if it's Yacht Rock so be it. Van Morrison and Stevie Nicks and scores of Druid metal acts have attempted to shine a light Into the Mystic, but none, I think, have illuminated that foggy inconstant world quote so well as "Hypnotized."

what matters most if the feeling You get when you're hypnotized

Hell, there are books written on the subject that don't get it so right. I don't truly believe that Don Juan ever levitated or that space aliens created a lake in the Carolina woods or that a Mothman flew over Point Pleasant or that malign spirits ever crept over the sandy floors of the Chase Vaults.

But there's a little dreamy fugue we all enter when just thinking about these fantastical and sadly unreal things, isn't there? If these things are not real, at least they can give us this wonderful, fleetingly-grasped, dreamy fugue state.

What's remarkable about "Hypnotized," its music, its lyrics, is it's another transport in.

The fugue, the trance, it's just like the daydream reverie you feel when Bob Welch's atmospheric guitar fills fly by. It's just like the slightly unreal shimmer that Mick Fleetwood's triple-time beats can bring to things, and it's just like the mysterious soft keen of Welch's and McVie's voices combining, just slightly offtune, just slightly outside the sad and boring reality we're all forced to inhabit.

RIP Bob Welch

Fleetwood Mac rotated their quarter turn

[irithnova]

Tag Game To Better Know You! Send this to people you’d like to know better!

Tagged by @tianshiisdead thank yew:D

What book are you currently reading?

I'm actually reading Genghis Khan: The man who conquered the world by Frank Mclynn but also the secret history!!! I also want to get back into reading more philosophy books again:D

What’s your favorite movie you saw in theatres this year?

I saw "The Thing" (80s original version) with some friends for Halloween!! It was actually pretty scary for a movie with cheesey special effects but the psychological aspect to it is what freaked me out the most, not knowing who to trust. Its like, among us but terrifying LMAO.

What do you usually wear?

I'm a goth your honour 😔

In all seriousness I do dress very alternative/goth usually, and the style depends on the day. Sometimes I want to wear a long flowy skirt and a Victoria-esque top with elegant jewellery, other days a short skirt and an edgy tight shirt. However I'm always wearing a hoodie, even with the more feminine looks, I wear a more feminine hoodie lol. I wear hoodies during summer too, I have thin hoodies just for that. I love hoodies. Then comes trousers. Like my skirts, I have quite a range of trousers, like I have regular black skinny jeans (alternative staple y'all) and then baggy, edgy bondage trousers I usually pair with band t shirts. I also have like, quite a few edgy jumpers am wearing atm bc its winter. I also wear hats on the regular, usually edgy skull beanies. When it comes to shoes I have an edgy collection. I have like, huge new rock platforms to doc martens to converse to vans :> At my office job I cannot dress goth but I do have some nice formal wear made out of Mongolian cashmere that I wear to the office :3 I have a pretty extensive jewellery collection,, my choker collection however is my pride and joy. Here it is:

How tall are you?

157 cm 😭😭 Or like 5'2 but maybe 5'3. I am short. Which is why I wear platforms.

What’s your Star Sign? Do you share a birthday with a celebrity or a historical event?

Gemini! Unfortunately... I share a birthday with Marquis De Sade :/ I stumbled across him when doing extra reading for philosophy when I was in school and uhhh he wasn't a pleasant man. Do not read his works if you are faint of heart 😭

Do you go by your name or a nick-name?

Hmm people sometimes call me Evie which is short for my full name so :>

Did you grow up to become what you wanted to be when you were a child?

When I was a child I wanted to be a lot of different things haha. From a geologist to a soldier to a historian to a journalist to a war correspondent to a fire fighter etc. But I'm doing an apprenticeship now with an amazing company, can't disclose what it is but its a big engineering company. I'm on the business side of it though:3 yeah I didn't become any of those things but I'm really glad with the position I'm in now and the job I'm doing now, I'm looking forward to how my career will progress and the qualifications I'll gain as the company I'm at is renowned for its development of its employees :D

Are you in a relationship? If not, who is your crush if you have one?

Newly single 😔😔 sad about it still but oh well what can I do?

What’s something you’re good at vs. something you’re bad at?

Hmm I guess I'm pretty good at debating. I was top of my class in philosophy when I was in school and I was pretty good at politics too. Was even entered into a debate/public speaking competition to represent my school ! I've also had teachers and just people I know say I'm quite good at it lol. One of the best compliments someone has ever given me was from my old philosophy teacher, who was a very educated lady and was a former barrister, she said I was a natural philosopher :>

I'm bad at socialising though :/ I'm an introvert despite being a good debater. I find it hard to talk to people but its even worse when like... They're bad at it too or its like they don't even want to talk to you? I feel like that with one of the managers at work and I find it so hard to talk to them. So much awkward silence. I usually stick to the corner in social situations unless I'm drunk lol. Maybe its because I don't look approachable. Like 1) I dress goth and 2) I have a resting bitch face. Even when I'm not gothed up I still have a resting bitch face 😭 We had a someone higher up in the company do a Q&A today at this all day session and he randomly said to me "you're looking at me quite intensely" bro I didn't even notice ☠️

Dogs or cats?

CATS 4LYFE <333

What’s something you would like to create content for?

Aph Mongolia my love <33 I'm like.. Pumping out all of these headcanons for him and writing fanfics, even commissioning le awesome artists to draw him!! I'm more of a writer than an artist however I would like to get better at drawing. I also wanna do more for aph Philippines as I am half Filipino plus.. Aph Philippines would be such a badass like if you look at Filipino history you'd just know<33 I'm also thinking of a higurashi and hetalia horror crossover but idk if anyone would want to read it considering the main characters would not be super popular ones in the hetalia fandom for the most part.

If you draw/write, or create in any way, what’s your favourite picture/favourite line/favourite etc. from something you created this year?

Hmm I'm not sure. I've only recently started seriously getting back into writing again and I can't pinpoint a line of that is my favourite in what I wrote so far? I haven't even published these fanfics yet haha. But I guess I like how my interpretation of aph Mongolia has changed over the years. I look back at certain things I've posted on old accounts and like.. I take it back because I've educated myself more on Mongolian culture/history since then and I feel my interpretation of what he'd be as a character now is much better? So I feel better about the headcanons I post now as I feel its more true.

What’s something you’re currently obsessed with?

Kind of a broad question but um getting more obsessed with Higurashi!!! Also obsessed with learning more about Buddhism <3 and I've been listening to a lot more Kino/Viktor Tsoi recently. I've been listening to that music for a while but umm because of some recent events I've been listening to it so much more.

What’s something you were excited about that turned out to be disappointing this year?

My relationship LMAOOOO

What’s a hidden talent of yours?

Umm hmm I guess I'm fairly okay at skiing despite not doing it often. I'm also pretty good at jump rope? I can skip in the typical boxer way, but I need to get back into doing it. I'd say I have good endurance when it comes to hiking too? My fingers are double jointed and I can bend them back really far, my pinky all the way LOL its a pretty gross party trick. I've also recently tried to learn throat singing and I've kind of slightly got there with kargyraa?

Are you religious?  

Difficult question idk, I was raised Catholic and went to Catholic schools all my life but I'm definitely not a Catholic, let alone Christian, anymore. I've been reading about Buddhism and I find it very interesting so..we'll see where that goes.

What’s something you wish to have at this moment?

Idk to stop feeling sad I guess 😭 but also more confidence. I can fake confidence but yeah.

Tags: anyone who wants to do this but also @tea-em0 @ookaminochi @mercyfullkate @papaveronamu @flyingsassysaddles @ariuka-munkh you don't have to do this if you don't want to btw I won't be offended lol!! just thought it would be nice <33

[ntriani]

OQM Playlist: Life During Quarantine #5

A new 'Life during quarantine' playlist arrives while Nick Triani explains why he feels Nick Drake's music might be the most unknowingly prescient for these times. The easing of restrictions in Finland regarding COVID-19 are on the horizon. It looks likely that children will partially return to school in mid-May. I think everyone is chomping at the bit to break this imposed isolation. Social distancing must continue as must any other preventive measure’s –  let’s keep a lid on it. Last week I visited downtown Helsinki for the first time in seven weeks. It was a Wednesday evening, around 5pm. The streets were completely empty. The cinema in Kaisaniemi had all movie posters removed form the window and looked like a derelict space. A post-Apocalyptic stillness permeated downtown. Silence, no cars, barely any people. I was cycling as large flakey snowfall descended, the ash metaphor couldn’t have been more prescient. One obvious outcome of easing these restrictions is the already permanent feeling of COVID-19 paranoia. Any sniffle, headache, any presence of an innocent cough automatically raises the stress levels. Let’s now dial those paranoia levels up to 10.

This week I’ve spent a lot of time listening to Nick Drake. His music and loner persona fit perfectly with these isolating times. A constant companion to Drake’s music was mental illness – rarely talked about – even though his story has the hallmarks of a person who lived under awful circumstances. Watching the rather limited and disappointing documentary on Drake’s life A Skin Too Few –  one comment by Drake’s father cut through:  that although present in the room it felt like “Nick was never really there.” This stands testament to an artist who cultivated a sense of mystery through illness and disassociation. That elusiveness of Drake only adds to the cult surrounding his music – even though for the artist the pain was real, unaffected and ultimately led to his tragic death. Drake was only 26 years old when he passed.

Drake left us a faultless discography: the three albums released during his lifetime are distinctive, melodic, thematically  yearning and wistful. Although pretty much ignored on their release, those records (bar the last album, the solo performed Pink Moon) have the mark of quality through association. Various Fairport Conventionalumni play on those first two albums, Richard Thompson the standout. Danny Thompson, then of Pentangle plays bass. John Cale, recently of the Velvet Underground turns up on the Bryter Layter album, as does former Beach Boysdrummer Mike Kowalski. Who can forget Robert Kirby‘s essential string arrangements or the technical team of Joe Boyd (producer)  and John Wood(engineer) pristine contributions. Still, front and foremost is Drake’s dulcet voice and guitar, metronomic in it’s intricate exactness, despite the supporting cast, Drake brings everything into focus.

Although nature is a regular theme so is the vantage point of the outsider and an almost completely slow withdrawal from life. We hear this view repeatedly through Drake’s catalog of music and especially on ‘River Man’, ‘Time Has Told Me’, ‘Poor Boy’, ‘One of These Things First’ and in ravaged clarity on ‘Parasite’. The posthumously released tracks ‘Hanging On A Star’ and ‘Black Eyed Dog’ offer more insight into Drake’s fragile state of mind, though more through a feeling of performance rather than the minimal lyrical intent displayed on those recordings. Having lived with these albums for the best part of 35 years, the overused term timeless doesn’t really do this music justice.  I never tire of hearing them, but I’m also struck by a real sense of sadness, not just evoked by the quality of the music but of the sense of self-isolation Drake repeatedly imparts in his songs.  In 2020, this really feels like the most essential music of these strange times.

[gundamcalibarney]

River and Nick years later.

[fayeriee]

Different

and so i did 

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fandom: the quarry  relationship: none? slight nick furcillo x reader if you want  genre: angst(ish), then a bit of crack warning/s: violence, blood, nick being touchy and then rude, coarse language word count: 2.2k (whoops) notes: gender neutral reader. only one use of ‘Y/N’. no physical descriptors used (it is mentioned that you have hair, though). sorry bald friends ♡

more notes at the end (i explain some stuff that I didn’t want to spoil here) i hope you all like it and thank you to everyone who replied to my original post ♡

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The night had gone badly extremely fast. A sputtering minivan engine had caused you and your fellow camp counsellors to stay at Hackett’s Quarry for another night. At first, Chris Hackeett’s (your boss for the summer) panic over it had seemed like an overreaction - but after Nick and Abigail were attacked by “some kind of animal” and Jacob showed up briefly to say that he had run into some kind of hunter, you were beginning to understand. 

Things took another turn when you stood outside with most of the others (Jacob had left again to try and find Emma), looking down at the pool you’d been using all summer, that now served as Kaylee Hackett’s final resting place - turning the clear water around her body red. 

You gasp, and take a stuttering step backwards. Your shoulders knock into a firm chest, and before you can turn to see who it is, long arms are wrapped around your waist and pull you into a warm - hot - body. 

A face lowers into you neck, hot breath hitting your skin in heavy pants. 

“N-Nick?” Abi mutters, looking at you awkwardly. Your eyes widen. Nick? What is he doing? Didn’t he and Abi…

“Fuck off, Abigail,” his accented voice grumbles, close to your ear. 

Your eyebrows furrow and you begin to try wiggling away from his grip. 

“Nick, let go,” you demand sternly, hyper-aware of everyone’s eyes now locked on to the two of you. 

“You smell so good,” Nick mutters, pressing his nose further into the junction of your neck and shoulder. His arms go from firmly holding your waist to curling around your stomach like vines, his chest pressing against your back. 

“Nick, I’m serious! Get off!” you exclaim, fingers digging into his forearms as you attempt to pry him away. You could feel the fast beating of your heart in your throat. Nick’s behaviour is not just uncomfortable, it’s extremely out of character. 

“Hey, man…” Ryan mutters from beside you, shotgun still in his hands as he looks at you worriedly. Nick’s arms tighten around you in response, and you swear you heard him growl. 

“I want to taste you,” Nick hums, you can feel his lips moving against your skin. 

Heat rushes through you, and you can’t tell if it’s from some kind of indignity or… something else. 

“Woah,” Dylan mumbles, his eyebrows raised high. 

Abi lets out a small, sad sound, and Kaitlyn places a comforting hand on her shoulder. You look at the two women desperately, your fingers finally getting between Nick’s arms and your body. 

You don’t want to be too brash, Nick is injured - probably in shock - but then there’s a sharp and sudden pain just above your collarbone. 

You let out a screech, mostly from surprise, as your skin gives way and is punctured.

Your body reacts instinctively, any friendly favour lost as you roughly rip Nick’s arms away. 

Dylan would tell you much later that you looked like ‘a ninja’, but all you can feel in the moment is your body stepping and turning away from Nick before you lash out and push him. 

You watch in horror and disgust as Nick falls backwards into the pool with Kaylee’s dead body. 

It’s silent for a long, worrying moment before Nick finally surfaces, yelling and screaming like the water was actually acid. 

But as pain throbs through your neck, you can’t find it in yourself to feel bad. 

“Did that fucker bite you?!” Kaitlyn yells in surprise as she takes a step forward to comfort you - Ryan and Dylan awkwardly pulling Nick out of the pool. 

“I-I think so, yeah,” you stutter, shaken by the whole thing. Your hand rises to the spot on your neck, and you immediately hiss as the stimulation causes the pain to blossom brighter. 

You pull your hand back, surprised by the amount of blood coating your fingers. 

“Are you sure? The marks aren’t… blunt,” Abi notes worriedly, assessing your wound alongside Kaitlyn. Before you can think properly about what she means, Dylan is piping up. 

“Uh, Nick is really cold. Like, freezing.”

Ryan nods in agreement, but still regards Nick’s shivering body with caution. 

“Let’s get inside the poolhouse. Nick can get dry and I’ll try and find something for you,” Kaitlyn instructs, looking at you as she finishes. You nod in agreement, and concede yourself to her care. 

*** 

Nick was laying alone on the floor with a space heater while you and the others sit in a corner to discuss what had just happened (including finding Kaylee’s body and the lady with the eyepatch). 

Your wound had gone from simply being painful to… Burning. 

From your neck, it felt like you were being burnt from the inside out. And it had started to spread throughout your entire body, like the bite is the fuse and your body is the bomb. 

Your senses feel focused. You can smell… A lot of iron. Blood. Yours. Nick’s. Dylan’s. Even Abi was bleeding slightly from a scrape on her arm caused by an outreaching tree branch. 

You hear a call of your name by a gruff and trembling voice. You look over, Nick looking back at you pleadingly. 

“C-could you come here? Please, I-I want to apologise,” he rasps. You hesitate, taking a quick glance at the others. Kaitlyn and Dylan shrug - not seeing the harm, Ryan stares at Nick intensely - clearly waiting for him to do something, and Abi looks very concerned - not wanting you to get hurt again. 

You sigh as you get up and go to Nick hesitantly, eyeing his every movement. From the dark veins that cover his face, to the slight shudder of his chest as he breathes. 

You kneel next to him, pushing the space heater away for your own comfort. He didn’t seem to be wet anymore - definitely didn’t smell wet - but even if he was, you already feel like you’re about to melt from the inside out, and the heater is not helping. 

“I-I’m sorry… For before,” Nick mutters, looking up at you from his spot laying on the ground. You look away awkwardly. 

“Uh… Yeah. Y-You were probably just in shock… right?” you chuckle nervously. You want him to nod and agree, because up until about fifteen minutes ago you had liked Nick. He was a sweet, funny guy that was always soft spoken and gentle with the kids. He’d even remembered that you disliked certain foods when he cooked for you and the camp. 

You can hear Nick swallow. 

“Y-yeah… C-can I ask you something?” his voice is barely above a whisper, but you hear him clearly. 

“Sure,” you shrug, wanting him to keep talking to distract you from the sizzling heat in your veins. It’s getting worse, and your joints are beginning to ache like you’re being stretched out, spread thin. 

“Do you like me?”

You blink, surprised. Does he mean…? No, surely not. Literally everyone has been talking about how Nick and Abi like each other - and he’d chased after her during truth or dare. 

You come to the conclusion that he was using ‘like’ as a general term. 

“Sure! You’re nice, and thoughtful, and-” he cuts you off. 

“That’s not- ugh… that’s such- such a copout answer,” he scoffs, and even in the low light you can see him roll his eyes. 

Heat burns your throat. You’re angry. More than you can ever remember being. 

“If that’s what you think,” you snap in annoyance, your arms still aching as you cross them against your chest. Nick’s eyebrows furrow. 

“You’re not really very smart, are you?” his lips are beginning to curl, snarling with each word. 

“Excuse me?!” your voice is gravelly, and it almost comes out like a bark. 

Kaitlyn, Ryan, Dylan and Abi have gone quiet, looking over at the two of you. 

“You’re so dumb, honestly. The most clueless idiot,” Nick sneers, dark eyes glaring up at you. 

You make a move to stand up, and an insult dies on your tongue when Nick grabs your biceps roughly to stop you. His skin is as hot as yours - you’re sure that if you were in a cartoon you both would be steaming like a kettle. 

You both stare at each other, wondering who will be the first to do something. It’s Nick. He tugs you roughly towards him, moving lithely to get his legs under you. He springs you away with a kick, and your senses explode when your back makes harsh contact with the wall. 

Your vision is overcome by grey static, the room falling away as you writhe on the ground. All you can hear are your own screams of pain as it feels as if you’re being torn apart, limb from limb. 

A hand is placed on your shoulder, intended to be comforting, but it just burns brighter against the inferno of your body, making you scream louder and jerk away from the touch. 

Then, your mind goes completely blank. 

“Ohoh~ you’re quite different, aren’t you?” 

An old lady’s voice floats through your head. You can’t exactly think straight enough for words, but every thought is a question mark. 

“Hm… Maybe you could be of use. If you kill to protect those friends of yours…” 

She pauses with a small hum, like she’s thinking something over. 

You’re hungry. You want to run. 

“Yes, protect them from those wretched hunters. Murderers! That’s you want to do, isn’t it. We can definitely use this to our advantage…” 

Her voice fades and everything comes back into focus. 

Your body doesn’t hurt anymore, and while you’re still relatively warm, it doesn’t burn anymore. 

A scream pierces your ears, and you turn to complain, only to see Abi being held up against the wall by… Something. 

It stands on its hind legs, seven or eight feet tall, with elongated limbs that end in razor sharp claws. Its face is mostly teeth and tongue, which are snapping in Abi’s face as she cries and tries to push it away. 

Anger fills you at seeing your friend in danger, and, with bravery not entirely your own, you leap forward. Instinct drives you, and before you really know which parts of your body are doing what, your jaw snaps down onto the thing’s arm. Using your leverage, you push against the ground to pull the creature’s arm away from Abi. 

She falls to the ground when released, and quickly scrambles across the ground to regroup with Kaitlyn, Dylan and Ryan. 

The thing turns its focus on you, trying to pull its arm free. A growl rumbles in your throat, and your teeth clench harder before you shake your head harshly, the muscle under your teeth ripping. 

The taste of blood fills your mouth, and a very quiet voice tells you that the creature you’re attacking is Nick. 

You let go, and the creature doesn’t look for a further fight, crashing through the window and running away with a howl. 

You watch the window for a few more moments. Even though you hear the retreating footsteps, you need to make sure it doesn’t return. 

“Is that a fucking dog?!” Dylan’s voice exclaims from behind you. 

You turn around to look at your group of, fortunately, safe friends. But they’re all looking at you strangely. 

“It’s way too big to be a dog,” Kaitlyn scoffs, but she doesn’t look away from you. Confusion fills you, and you glance over your shoulder to try and find said ‘dog’, but there’s nothing there. 

Oh, there’s a tail. 

Upon noticing it, it starts to move, shaking from side to side. It’s large, and very fluffy. 

“Like a dire wolf!” Dylan chirps, sounding excited. You look away from the tail to watch him, and he meets your eyes with his own wide ones. He still smells like blood, but it's not as fresh as before, which is slightly reassuring. 

“Like from Game of Thrones?” Abi asks, still looking nervous. 

You go to take s tep forward, wanting to comfort her and reassure her that Monster-Nick is gone. 

But as soon as you do, everyone edges backwards - looking scared. 

“Guys?” you try to question, but all that comes out is a drawn out whine. You go silent quickly, eyes wide. 

“Aw,” Abi softens, holding her hand out towards your face. When you go to slap it away (insulted), however, you see your hand. That is… Not quite a hand anymore. A very large fucking paw is what you’re moving instead. What… the fuck?

Turning around, you realise the interesting tail from before is, in fact, yours. 

Ah, fuck.

“Um, guys… Where did Y/N go?” Ryan asks, looking at a spot on the ground just behind you that was covered in blood and fur that looked to be the same colour as your hair. 

Things are beginning to add up for the others just as they have for you. 

You’d let out a little bark at the sound of your name, getting everyone’s attention. 

“Are… you…?” Dylan is the first to entertain the thought, looking at  you in amazement. Everyone lets out a sound between a laugh, a gasp, and a groan when you nod your head up and down. 

“Then… the thing that attacked Abi… Was that Nick?” Kaitlyn asks, looking unsettled when you nod again. 

“So… why are you a friendly, fluffy… ‘wolf’, while Nick and those… other ones are… not?” Ryan asks awkwardly. You try to shrug, and while it doesn’t feel entirely right, they seem to get the point. 

You all stand there for a moment, looking at each other in disbelieving silence. 

You’re interrupted by a knock at the door. 

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

HEHEHHE thank you for reading! 

A few things for clarification! 

So, when Nick bites you, he has sharp teeth like Emma does just before she turns (if she’s alone in the storm shelter and infected). In this story, Nick’s turning was delayed by his dip into the water, which is why you both turn at the same time. 

With the reader and Nick being really hot, that’s taken from when Max is turning, he says that he’s really hot and asks Laura if she’s hot. 

We also know that it’s possible to become infected if someone who is infected bites you even before they turn, since Ryan still gets infected and heals when Laura bites him (before she turns) to save him. 

The old lady voice that you hear is Eliza (the tarot card lady you see between chapters). She calls you different and the reason behind that is... whatever you want. Maybe you had fluffy!werewolf ancestors, idk. Maybe you’re the chosen one, I don’t care, don’t question it. 

I didn’t want to specify how tall you are, so I couldn’t put in any comparisons (like, after you turn you’re taller than (character) because what if you’re already taller than them before turning? that wouldn’t make any sense). But basically I made you kind of hilariously large. You look like a normal wolf, your fur being the same colour as your (natural) hair (sorry, i wasn’t really envisioning a pink wolf), but you’re roughly the size of a polar bear (please google it those fuckers are huge) 

OKAY ENOUGH EXPLANATIONS I HOPE YOU LIKE IT IT WAS REALLY FUN TO WRITE I MIGHT EVEN DO A PART TWO IF ANYONE WANTS IT???? ♡♡

[swirlysmile]

I just found your blog and I must say, I am In love

i have a request for a rooster x reader 🥺👉🏻👈🏻

So imagine the scene from top gun where carol and Bradley come visit goose at Top Gun but this time it’s YEARS later and it’s mav again but with Rooster waiting for Roosters wife and their son to come visit at Top Gun. And the entire time Mav is watching with a sad smile on his face. And it’s based off “Glimpse of Us” by Joji.

Even the parts where Roosters wife says “Rooster tells me your in love with Penny Benjamin” just like carol did when she was talking about him being in love with his flight instructor. Or when Rooster runs up to his little family and Mav flashes back to seeing the same thing with baby bradley and Goose?

I just need some teeth rotting like, angsty but some fluff at the same time lol

oh my god i love the way your mind works!! thank you so much for the request and the kind words!! feel free to request or chat with me anytime!

word count: 784

warnings; a little bit sad, more happy though, mentions of an un-named child

Glimpse Of Us

It’s a long flight for a four year old boy from Pennsylvania to California. Your kid is so antsy to get off that plane that he’s about to throw a tantrum.

He’s making some comment like “Daddy is crazy for liking planes!” with that little four year old lisp. 

When you finally do get off the plane, he bolts.

Honestly, Maverick can't believe his eyes. It’s like he’s rewinding a tape, reliving a memory, stuck in a dream. He’s standing in sunny California, just watching. There’s a couple of tears beginning to form, but he wipes them away just as quickly as they appear, replacing them with a smile of genuine happiness. 

Bradley is running to meet you at the same pace you’re going, if not faster. 

The second he makes contact with you, you’re wrapping your arms around him and squealing in excitement. It’s been months.

“Honey! I missed you,” Rooster shouts over the hustle and bustle of the airport, but you can hear him loud and clear. There’s an abundance of people exiting, not

to mention the roar of engines fighting with ferocity to be heard.

He can hardly make out a small “Daddy!” while he’s kissing you, his wife. Bradley scoops up your kid in the process, resting the toddler on his hip- and Jesus, he’s missed this. He’s missed you.

Pete’s still staring, but now his mouth is agape. He thought he’d never see Carole and Nick again, but he sees them when he closes his eyes. He sees them in you- and it makes him endlessly proud of the man that Bradley has become.

“So, Pete,” You say the second you reach his side. He cocks an eyebrow at you in curiosity, head tilted. “Bradley tells me you’re in love with the bartender, Penny, was it dear?” you turn to Rooster to confirm. The details had gotten fuzzy- it’s been about two weeks since you heard Bradley’s spiel on Mavericks love life.

Suddenly Bradley’s eyes are wide in alert and he’s shaking his head. 

“I didn’t tell you that-”

“Yes you did,” you say, and Pete rolls his eyes and walks a little further ahead while Bradley kisses you again. 

“Sweetheart, you weren’t supposed to say that!” He whisper-shouts, wrapping an arm around your waist. Pete’s not really angry, in fact he’s a bit amused if anything. He’s getting an intense feeling of deja vu, and it simultaneously breaks and mends his heart. 

The next day on base, everything’s normal- except for Bradley. He has an extra pep-in-his-step, and his fellow pilots definitely notice. Maverick can't stop himself from saying “Your dad would be proud of you.”

It takes everything in Rooster not to break down right there, and he settles for giving Pete a hug. Maybe if it were under any other circumstances, it would have been a little humiliating, but neither of them can find it in themselves to care.

“I’ll see you later Mav,” Bradley says, referring to their plans while pulling back. He’s rushing off to hop in a plane, and Maverick shakes his head with a chuckle. 

“God, doesn’t he ever embarrass you Pete?” you say, referencing your husband- giving a gesture with your hand for added effect. Rooster is sitting at the piano playing his Dad’s favorite song, and Penny is laughing at you just a little.

“Rooster? Never,” he says, the chuckle getting caught in his throat. He feels like he’s with them again. Every blink it’s like Pete is being transported back there, talking to Carole. 

Penny is rubbing his arm comfortingly, and he just smiles sweetly in the direction of Rooster and your little guy sat on the piano. 

Goose, you’d be amazed by him.

You make a move to get out of your seat and join Bradley at the piano, Maverick following behind quickly. Penny catches on and slides out from the corner booth.

“C’mon kiddo, sing with the family!” Bradley says, pounding the keys. He’s pulling you onto his lap, and Maverick pats him on the shoulder.

“You shake my nerves and you rattle my brain!”

The overwhelming sense of familiarity and warmth almost makes him burst into tears right there, but he holds it together while picking up your kid.

It’s crazy that he’s Grandpa Mav now. 

Penny holds Pete close, playing with the little boy sat in his arms. He is awestruck. Everyone sings so happily, loudly might be a better word, and Maverick is surprised that you haven’t gotten kicked out yet for “disturbing the other patrons”. 

That night, he leaves (by choice) happy and realizes what’s even crazier than being Grandpa Mav is how he sees a glimpse of them in everything you do.

[thebooktopus]

Two of Cups - Epistolary

Yours Truly by @skeptiquex (M // 14K)

Holy cow, friends. I've been busy and distracted lately, having a bit of a hard time settling down for a good read (v sad) but this fic has been calling to me since it was posted a few weeks ago as a part of @hp-bodiceripper fest and MAN am I glad that I opened it up last night to start. It has everything you're looking for: will they/won't they, secret relationship, Harry making questionable choices that work out for him in the end, hot!Draco, epistolary elements scattered throughout, mutual pining... the gang's all here!!

It was a little uncomfortable to think Draco had read the letters this closely. Harry didn’t think he had spent so much time looking at him previously. There wasn’t a doubt in his mind Draco could tell that sometimes Harry swept dirt under the rug, and that he had nicked himself shaving this morning and even that this whole thing had spiralled out of Harry’s control. Whatever he had spent the last few years doing had given Draco a fine focus.

I love Tee's writing, always so witty and smart, the kind where you feel a little giddy at the end, like you just got let in on something secret and special. This one in particular pulled on all my heartstrings, just so well thought-out, lots of great magical theory and world-building in such a tight package. I could not recommend this fic more: it's definitely going on my favorites list and has hopefully jumpstarted my reading engine again. Go check it out, along with all of the other great fics from Bodice Ripper!! ♥️

This post is a fic rec for the @gameofdrarry Wizarding Hearts game, a team challenge meant to diversify your reading and try new fics! Sign ups are now closed, but consider following the account for lots of fun reading AND writing challenges!!

[apocalypticgargoyle]

𝘽𝙐𝙍𝙉𝙄𝙉𝙂 𝙀𝙔𝙀𝙎. ҂ 𝙙𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙢

back by popular demand! xx thank you for supporting my ramblings! this is kind of filler.. sorry...

pairing: dream x fm!reader

warnings: blood, slight angst, using ccs real names, guns

← previous chapter | ao3 | request |

Clay pushed himself to sit away from the wall, dragging you up with him. “How can you not hear that?” He urged mildly. Fear began to pick at your nerves as you noticed the same reactions filling the shelter. Nick stood up, following some of the other guys who heard whatever they were talking about. Clay slipped from your grasp. “I’ll be right back,” he muttered and you grabbed his hand. His eyes flashed a different color as he looked at you.

A few of the women followed the group, attempting to get their companion’s attention before one of them opened the shelter door.

Your eyes grew wide as the crowd moved from the shelter. It seemed that only the women in the bunker were protesting against leaving the shelter, the men focused on shrugging out of their hold. The night sky was lit up by a foreign object you had yet to lay eyes on, Clay’s figure blocking most of your vision as you were sandwiched between him and Nick. You could feel your heart beating in your ears, your grip tightening around Clay’s arm. 

The crowd spread out in the field near the bunker, gaze cast towards the northern sky where a large planet hovered on the horizon line. You covered your mouth in shock, slinking backward as a few of the women screamed. The bright spots on its surface reflected in the eyes of the men across the field from you. You yanked on Clay’s arm, attempting to pull him back into the safety of the bunker with you. 

He turned, an amazed smile flashing to his face as he looked down at you. It was only then that you noticed the crimson lines of blood draining from his ears. “Can you hear that?” He asked, voice raspy and verklempt. You furrowed your brows, your chest rising and falling unevenly as your mind raced to figure out what was happening. Clay’s soft hair moved in the night breeze, his features looking sharper as the light from the planet cast shadows across his face. 

His face dropped suddenly, his brows knitting together as his breathing seemed to slow. You reached out to touch his face but instead, his eyes rolled and he collapsed into your arms. Nick dropped to his knees beside you as well, forcing you to reach an arm out so he didn’t face plant in the dirt under your feet. You swore under your breath as Clay’s weight forced you into a sitting position. As you held him to your chest, keeping a tight grip on Nick’s t-shirt, you hiccuped, hot tears beginning to stream down your face. 

You sat, waiting for them to wake up, for what felt like hours. Various women were wailing, while others smoked stale cigarettes and paced, theorizing what the planet could be doing. You drug your fingers through Clay’s hair, your other hand cramping from its hold on Nick’s shirt. You’d pulled him closer to settle his head on your leg beside Clay. You felt like a mother hen guarding her chicks against the winter. 

You hated it. 

One woman stood with her hands on her lower back, staring up at the planet. Every few minutes, she held her palm out to it, spreading her fingers out wide before biting her cheek and continuing to stare. You inhaled and attempted to soothe yourself by holding the boys closer to you. “They’ll wake up,” she said, her voice breaking into a quietness you hadn’t realized had settled over the field. You looked up at her, rubbing your cheek on your sleeve to rid yourself of salty tear tracks. “The big one, he still has eye movement.” You looked down at Clay, noticing her fact. He looked as if he were dreaming up the plot of a new Lord of the Rings book. 

You sighed in relief, pressing your cheek against his forehead as your hand loosened on Nick, fingers brushing his collarbone softly. It was then that you realized how warm he was. Your brain switched into panic mode as you touched his forehead, his skin burning beneath your hand. You pulled his hat off his head and set about pulling his hoodie off. 

The woman joined you at your side. “He has a fever. We have to-” you bit your lip as more tears threatened to spill. You were so tired of crying, but for some reason, you couldn’t help it. Especially now, as the lives of the man you loved and a dear friend were literally in your hands. “We have to get it down,” you managed, fingers yanking at the material. “He could die.” 

The woman settled a hand on your shoulder, slowing your movements. She removed Nick’s hoodie, balling it up and pushing it beneath his head. “He’s going to be okay. Obviously, his body’s fighting something off,” she assured. “You should move around a bit. So your legs don’t go completely numb.” 

You shook your head, looking back toward the two. “No, I can’t leave them,” you answered softly. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw her nod in understanding. “What were you doing over there?” You asked, nodding to where she was previously standing. 

She moved to sit cross-legged, turning her head to look back up at the planet. “I was seeing if it was moving,” she responded. “I swear I’ve seen it before. Like in a book or something.” You nodded at her words slightly. “I think it’s Callisto, one of Jupiter’s moons.” 

You dragged your sleeve across Clay’s cheek, wiping away the dried blood. “Callisto…” you repeated, attempting to jog your memory if you’d heard of it before. “So NASA was wrong, huh?” You joked, attempting to be light-hearted, but your voice reflected a dark sadness from the depths of your chest instead. 

She shrugged with a small grin on her face. “Unless it wiped us out completely as this is your hell for eternity.” You snapped your eyes to her, making her laugh. “I’m joking. Unless this is my hell,” she joshed. “It depends on what you believe is real or not, I guess.” 

You shut your eyes, a shaky breath rippling through you. “Please stop talking.” 

Before she could say something else, Clay’s eyes snapped open. He muttered your name almost as if he didn’t believe it was you. He turned his head towards where Nick was laying. “Nick?” His voice cracked slightly as he sat up. He looked at you as if asking what was happening before he turned to peer up at the planet again, his eyes shifting to a more brilliant green as if it evoked something within him. You watched his irises shift towards a glowing color before he looked at you again. 

Nick stirred in your arms before shivering. You rested your hand against his forehead once again, the heat of his body becoming more alarming. Clay was on his feet, looking quickly around the field as various people woke up, startled just as he was. You gently moved from beneath Nick, letting his head rest on his jacket as you moved to comfort Clay. He pulled you into his arms and you could hear his heart beat against his rib cage. Everything was beginning to happen so quickly as you stood on your toes to peer over Clay’s shoulder, watching as various men began to act strangely. 

You heard Nick mumble Clay’s name, causing you to break away from him to look behind you. As you did so, Nick grabbed your arm gently, his hand searing the flesh of your forearm. You let out a muted scream, yanking your hand from his as his worried eyes burned a bright orange.

THREE YEARS LATER

You tied your hair back, staring back at your reflection in the dirty mirror. It was the Callisto Anniversary, therefore you couldn’t help but think of what you used to look like; practically a child compared to who you were now. You almost glared at the scars on your arms from those nights when you all thought the world was ending. You wet your lips, tugging on your jacket and propping open the door of your bedroom before carrying yourself down the long hallway. Various people greeted you from their rooms as you passed by their opened doors. 

As you trudged down the various flights of stairs, you silently repeated the words of the cultists' propaganda posters covering the walls in the stairwell. You passed them every day; hating them more each time you saw them. You’d only let them hang the posters after they threatened to burn down the hotel, thus eliminating yours and several hundreds of other people’s homes and businesses. 

After the planet, which you now knew for sure was the moon Callisto, settled into the Earth’s night sky, reports of enlightened men popped up everywhere. The male population seemed to be a favorite of Callisto’s as most of them possessed some kind of power, whether useless or beneficial. Conspiracy theorists believed it was because of the creatures in the water beneath its surface attempting to create a new generation of Poseidon's sons. With the moon ruining Earth’s power supply, it was difficult to experiment and prove various theories. 

It’s the radiation, some would say. 

It’s a government conspiracy. 

It’s an alien experiment. 

You’d heard it all. The only thing you were certain of was what Eden told you, the woman you’d met when Callisto appeared. She was convinced of the Poseidon theory; though rather scornfully. “One more thing to strengthen male privilege...” She often accounted. She’d worked as a biology professor before the day of reckoning, therefore she could tell you the chicken came before the egg and you’d believe her. She explained the phenomenon of Callisto as a result of the ocean tides and gravitational pull, yet couldn’t figure out how Callisto could travel 4.3 AUs and why Earth would be its landing place. 

Your feet thumped against the cracked linoleum of the hotel lobby, the various dividers failing to provide sound barriers between the various groups of engineers and their counterparts as they worked and chattered. After finding the hotel, you’d given most of its space to Eden and her team as well as the brutes working for you. 

You grabbed an apple from one of the food stations before following the sound of Eden’s voice as she argued with someone about the patterns of Callisto in the sky. A radio lulled from the table in the middle of her chaos. She tugged her dull blonde/gray hair back into a ponytail before massaging her aging temples with two fingers. 

The front doors opened, ringing the small bell attached to one of the handles and drawing your attention. The group of men shrugged out of their wet jackets or shook out the rain out of their hair. You scanned the group from Clay’s white ski mask, an intimidating feature that signified who he was. Just as you had given up, he pushed through the crowd, pushing his mask on top of his head. You waved at him and he brightened before walking towards you. He leaned down to press a kiss to your lips, the smell of the Earth hanging against his damp clothing. 

“I saw something while I was out, and I’ve had a rough time keeping it in my head,” he stated with a slight chuckle, mindlessly asking you to follow him to one of the tables with a few workers. You watched him silently as he fished into the barrels of spare gun parts before throwing what he’d found on the table. The people around you paused what they were doing. Clay’s eyes began to glow, the green almost iridescent as the pieces began to morph together before shaping a new kind of gun. 

That’s really what your group was known for: arms manufacturing and dealing. 

Clay built them and you had the connections to sell them. On paper, it was simple. 

Clay held the gun in his hand, turning it over and looking down at you for praise. You furrowed your blows slightly. “Does it work?” You asked, making him shrug and bump a clip into it before firing it at one of the walls. 

You sighed. “How many times do we have to talk about shooting inside?” He giggled sheepishly at your words. You examined the gun in his large hand, trying to place where you had seen it before. It was a souped-up version of whatever you had previously seen. 

“Looks like a cop gun to me, Dream,” a familiar voice stated, making Clay chuckle proudly before looking up to see Nick with his arms crossed. Clay quickly tucked it into the back of his belt and Nick rolled his eyes. “Sorry, I meant to radio in on my way but I got caught in the storm.” 

You swatted off his apology and hugged him. “It’s good to see you, Sapnap,” Clay lightened. The boys had begun using their radio call names as if they got them from their mothers. “Happy Callisto Day,” Clay charmed, wrapping an arm around your shoulders as Nick picked up a gun piece. 

Nick’s eyes flashed to the burn scar on your wrist from him. The fever he had was due to his power. Clay always teases him with nicknames like Prince Zuko and Warren Peace for it. “Have you guys seen Karl? I have a friend that figured out how to make something similar to nail polish.” 

You snorted. “He should be hovering around Eden,” you answered, gesturing to the opposite corner of the lobby space. 

After Nick parted, Clay turned back to you. “I think I found a way to get supplies into the East Sector…” he mumbled, just audible enough for you to hear. You perked an eyebrow at him. The East Sector had been closed off to any kind of weaponry, but that didn’t mean the demand wasn’t high. It was a farming community outside of the city where most of the religious zealots lived and based the Cult of Callisto. 

You chewed the inside of your cheek. “How dangerous is this  way  you’ve found?” 

Clay smirked slightly. “They call him Techno. He’s a chlorokinetic. Apparently, he kills people and turns them into plant food too,” he stated, wiggling his eyebrows. “Plus, he’s an enemy of Quackity’s group.” He crossed his arms, leaning against the table behind him. 

“So, pretty dangerous, then?” You simplified. 

He smiled slightly. “In a fun way…” 

[ashintheairlikesnow]

Hope: The Smuggler

A continuation on this little piece I posted a couple of days ago. Just something small knocking around inside my mind. 

CW: Escaped pet whumpee, BBU, guns, scarring, referenced past torture, ~mysterious world-building references~

“Allie!” Gyasi hops down from the truck, the tread of her work boots crunching into the rock salt scattered over the road to melt the ice. 

Snowflakes are already starting to drift down, landing in Gyasi’s hair and laying white and beautiful against her black braids pulled back low at her neck. They melt a moment later, but it’s definitely snowing a little more than it was a half an hour ago, and Allie’s sure there’ll be another big buildup tonight. 

Allie’s mouth always goes a little dry when Gyasi is in town, and she has to lock her knees not to have them wobble as she gives her most welcoming smile. “Welcome back, Gya.”

“Always a pleasure.” Gyasi crushes her in a hug. The other woman only comes up to Allie’s nose, and still she feels sort of helpless at every touch. Funny, how she’s the deputy head of security for Hope, and still someone as slim and slight as Gyasi can make her fall to pieces. “I got a team of  six this time, all names you know. We’re going in with seven rescues and a couple libbers with pretty big felony convictions about to come down, hopefully coming back with a metric fucking ton of insulin, plus the usual other shit.”

“Great.” Allie has to clear her throat to keep her voice from coming out husky and trembling. She pulls back from the hug, looking over the truck. The man sitting in the passenger seat gives her a wave, and after a second Allie remembers him, too - Charlie or Chuck. Another truck pulls up behind that, and then a van. “We’ll be sending you in one vehicle at a time. Once we get clearance the first makes it through, we’ll send the next.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know how it goes. Rescues first-” Gyasi points to the van. “Then our libbers go in the truck. Chaz and I’ll bring up the rear.”

Right, Chaz. Allie always forgets his name. 

“And if you’re caught-”

“I know, Allie-cat. I was never here, there’s no road through the woods, we snuck through an hour east of here.” Gyasi reaches up to pat the side of her face, and Allie wonders if she’s just going to black out one day when Gya does that. “We didn’t give you away the last time one of us got picked up, we won’t this time, either. Trust me.”

“I try to,” Allie says, voice softening a little. It’s hard, to be soft - her life has been one of needing to always be sharp-edged, ready to kill or fight on command. Softness came only after she made it here, and even then only with time. “You know I try to trust you, Gya.”

“Well, try harder, because I’m trustworthy.” Gyasi laughs, deep and rich, and then her eyes shift to the side. Her smile, wide and bright, starts to fade slightly. It returns a little faded, unsure. "We have a watcher, Al.”

“What?” Allie turns to look over her shoulder, instinctively tensing at the possibility of a threat - and then relaxes. “Oh. He’s, uh. He’s shy. That’s our new kid, he came up from Florida.”

“Oof, what a long trip.”

“You’re not wrong. Leslie said he needed to be in No Man’s Land, although she refused to say why. Come on over here, kiddo!”

If Gyasi tops out with her hair not quite high enough to touch Allie’s nose, Esteban doesn’t even clear her shoulders. He’s a skinny, short thing, drowning in a huge canvas winter coat he’d arrived in. His cheeks and the tip of his nose are bright red from the cold he’s still getting used to, and he’s got big thick black gloves on, a woven knit cap pulled down to cover his ears, dark brown curls sticking out all around it, brown eyes sparkling.

Leslie had left him with fleece-lined jeans, heavy socks and a promise to wear two pairs with his boots, all the sweaters you could imagine, and strict admonitions not to try and go without gloves just because some of the others who’ve been here longer do.

His breath puffs out in front of him as he jogs over from where he’d been lurking at the side of the admin building (well... it’s really just Brock’s house). “H-hey, Allie.”

"You look frozen, Esteban.”

“It’s not so bad,” Esteban says, cheerful as always, even as his nose looks like Rudolph on a bad day. “I’m getting used to it. I wanted to watch the trucks! Who is this? Are these new people like me?”

“Oh, I’m not like you,” Gyasi says, without judgement, but Allie still sees Esteban’s shoulders hunch a little under his layers, catches the embarrassed flush that darkens him even under the cold. “Gyasi Templeton’s the name. I run meds, mostly. And people.”

“Run...?” Esteban’s curiosity overcomes his mood, and he turns to look at the two trucks and the big van, then back at Allie. 

“I’m a smuggler,” Gyasi announces happily. “I smuggle.”

“Right.” Allie points to the van first. “Her group does runs to Canada through here. Meds, runaways, pet lib groups. Other stuff that it might be hard for us to get hold of on this side of the border, Gya’s group can bring through here.”

“Technically, we go through there.” Gyasi points, gesturing to the forest just visible at the horizon, the soft smudged line of dark green and brown. “It’s a bumpy road, let me tell you, halfway up a fucking mountain and back, uh.. you said Esteban?”

“Yeah,” Esteban’s replies, shyly, half-hidden behind Allie. “That’s my name.”

“You pick it out?” Gyasi’s not really that interested, just making conversation. Allie can see her distraction - she’s in a hurry to get moving, hoping to make it through the trees before nightfall and the snow make things too difficult or dangerous and force them to wait it out. 

Esteban, though, doesn’t seem to notice. “Yes! Dr. Osmond let me choose my own name, he was very kind to me. He was very kind.”

Allie swallows, jaw setting into a firm line, shoulders tensing. She, after all, has seen what the kids hands look like under those gloves. Scarred and with one pinky permanently bent, one of his other fingers doesn’t even close. 

“No, he wasn’t,” Gyasi says, and she glances back at the truck, with its engine still rumbling. 

“What?” Esteban blinks. 

“Nobody kind has a runaway Boxie who goes this fucking far to get away from them.”

Esteban looks away, something shifting in his expression. Allie, as a rule, doesn’t give a fuck about sob stories. She has her own, and she’s heard so many on top of that. She stopped letting them sink into her skin a long time ago. But she finds herself wondering what Esteban’s expression - wistful, sad, but oddly bittersweet, too - could possibly mean. 

“Ethan wasn’t nice,” He mumbles. “But Dr. Osmond was, in the lab where I was first.”

Then he gives Gyasi and Allie another bright smile, but it’s more brittle than it was before. “Nice to meet you, ma’am,” He says politely. 

Allie frowns, though. “The lab, Estenban? You mean Facility, right?”

“The lab,” Esteban says patiently. “In the Facility. Where I grew up. I’m gonna go, it’s getting cold.”

“Wait, what do you-”

“Later, Allie.” He bumps his shoulder lightly against Allie’s arm as a kind of farewell, and crunches his way back out of the road and onto the sidewalk, heading in the direction of the adjustment house, the first place anyone stays until they’re ready to settle down.

Allie watches him go, a chill settling into her chest.

What lab? Where he grew up? Leslie said he came out of some exec’s house. And the exec sure wouldn’t be a doctor... 

“Cute kid,” Gyasi says, startling Allie back out of her thoughts. “But we have a contact waiting for us at an auto shop in Nick’s Island. Next time we’ll get coffee, right, Allie-cat? And you’ll finally watch Clue with me?”

Allie feels something flutter in her chest. Esteban’s odd mysterious statements forgotten, she quickly nods. “Will do, Gya. Stay safe.”

“I never stay safe, it’d ruin my fun.” Gyasi crushes Allie briefly back into another hug, and then climbs back up into her truck, settling back in. “Let them know we’re going through, we’ll be there in ten or fifteen.”

Allie’s already pulling out her radio. “Your escort’ll be ready for you when you hit the path. You already paid up?”

“Yeah, I paid Brock half direct. You’ll get the other half of your cut when we come back.”

“Right. Half in cash, half in meds.”

“Same as always. See ya, Allie.”

Gyasi’s truck rumbles away, the second truck and then the van following after it. Allie radios the group working the road through the woods today, but her mind keeps going back to Esteban. Dr Osmond. A lab. Where I grew up.

Now what in the hell does that mean?

-

@finder-of-rings @burtlederp @astrobly @doveotions @whump-tr0pes @symphony-of-greys @orchidscript @boxboysandotherwhump @whumptywhumpdump @wildfaewhump

[aewhore]

Sour candy kisses~ Nick Jackson x reader (NSFW)

You and Hangman are childhood best friends and you talk/text every day and your boyfriend Nick thought he was okay with it but his jealous side does come out to play slightly however you put his mind to rest and assure him nothing is going on in the only way you know how.  (Sexy time ensues) 

Hanging out backstage at AEW dynamite was always the highlight of your weeks, seeing your coworkers who became friends and your friends who became family made your Wednesdays just a little brighter. You were sitting in the EVP dressing room, joking and chatting with Matt and your boyfriend of 3 years, Nick. You loved having some downtime with Matt and Nick when you all weren’t running around booking the shows. You sat on the large comfy couch in the dressing room when your phone went off. Your brows furrow slightly at the unexpected interference.  

Hangy: 

Hey Y/N! You free?  

You can’t help but smile at your phone when you see a text from your favourite lone cowboy Adam Page. You and Adam had been best friends for what felt like your entire life, You had met on the first day back in preschool and You were both the only wrestling fans in your school so you stuck to each other like glue. Your fingers raced across your phone screen as you replied. 

Y/N: 

Oh hell yeah I am! Meet ya in the café in 5! 

You locked your phone and slipped it into your hoodie pocket before beginning to stand from the couch, shimmying out of Nick’s arms. “Hey, where ya going?” Nick pips up, You rolled your eyes at Nick’s protest at the loss of your body heat. “I’m going to meet up with Adam in the cafeteria, do you want me to bring you back anything?” You turn towards Nick in time to catch his face sour slightly. “Oh ok, nope I’m good”  The bitterness towards Adam seeped into Nick’s voice. You shoot him a glare before you shake your head and leave. Not even wanting to justify his harshness towards the lone cowboy. “tell him we say hi” You hear Matt yell as the door closes behind you. As you walk from the EVP dressing room to the cafeteria you can’t help but grin at seeing your best friend.  You don’t make it to the cafeteria when you hear Adam call out your name. You twist around to see Adam jogging towards you with a fast-food bag and two drink cups which you can only assume are milkshakes. “Took you long enough, come on let’s go find a table, I got something real funny to show you”  

Fast forward an hour and you and Adam are still in the cafeteria, empty food containers stuffed back in the fast-food bag as you and Adam huddle around his phone to watch what felt like the 200th funny dog video he showed you today. “Look, look the dog is in the driver’s seat of the truck, why is he there? He can’t drive!” Adam could barely get a sentence out because you were both wheezing so hard. “Man, where do you find this stuff? This is the greatest thing ever!” Ever since Adam was kicked out of the elite, you were thankful whenever you got to see him be carefree and laugh like he used to. You pulled your phone out and nearly gasped at the time, Dynamite would be over at any moment so you had been in the cafeteria for nearly an hour. You see a text notification pop up from Nick. 

Pretty Nicki: 

Me and Matt gonna go with good brothers to grab a bite to eat, I’ll meet you back at the hotel. xx 

Your brows furrow slightly at the bluntness of Nick’s message. Normally if he goes for food after dynamite, he brings you but you dismiss those thoughts and reassure yourself that it isn’t that deep. You reply to him, telling him you’ll get a ride with Adam and that you’ll see him back at the hotel later on. “Is everything okay?” You hadn’t noticed Adam stopped laughing and was looking very concerned at the suddenly sad look in your eyes. “Oh nothing, Nick is just going to get food with Matt and the good brothers.” You explained as you tucked your phone back into your jeans. “Without you?” Adam inquires,  You’re slightly confused at Adam’s question. “I mean yeah, we don’t have to do everything together.” You turn to look him in the eye. “Hey, I didn’t mean anything by it, just a question. Do you need a ride back to the hotel then?” Adam was quick to change the subject away from Nick. “Oh yeah, do you mind? I hate to spring this on you” You felt guilty but Adam’s quick response helped put you to rest. “Y/N don’t be like that, you know you ain’t a bother to me. Go grab your stuff and I’ll meet you by the truck out front” You smile at Adam before grabbing the rubbish in front of you and standing to go throw it away on your way to get your things from the locker room. 

There was a comfortable silence between you and Adam as he drove you both back to the hotel. One of Adam’s many country music playlists was softly playing in the background. As you rounded the corner into the Hotel car park you take your phone out to check if Nick text you back and he had read the message. You’re pulled from your thoughts by Adam cutting off the engine and hopping out of the truck. You follow suit and round the back to the bed of the truck to grab your bags when you see Adam handing them to you. “Oh thanks, hangy” you take the bags from him and he leads the way towards the hotel lobby. “Anytime darling, do you need to check-in?” He asks when you fall into step with him. “Oh No, Nick checked in earlier so I already have the key.” You pull your key card out of your purse and wave it towards him. “I see, I ain’t that organised so I gotta check-in, Talk to ya later then.” You and Adam stop in the centre of the lobby to bid your goodnight’s. “Alright, Adam I’ll text ya tomorrow morning.” You pull him into a hug and you give him a tight squeeze before releasing him so you could start walking towards the elevator towards the back of the lobby. 

Slotting your key into the key card reader, you were happy to see that tiny green light flash allowing you into the room. You see the lights in the room are already on indicating that Nick has returned to the room before you. “Hey, baby I’m back” You give out a soft shout as you dump your bags and jacket on the floor beside Nick's luggage. You enter the room to see Nick sitting on the bed on his phone with his back towards you. Before you can say anything he stands and swiftly walks into the bathroom nearly slamming the door after him. “Jeez someone has an attitude all of a sudden.” You roll your eyes at your boyfriend’s attitude before you walk back to open your luggage to grab your nighties to get ready for bed. After you’ve changed Nick exits the bathroom, in his usual bed attire a pair of old basketball shorts and a black tank top. He stops to plug in his phone as you walk around him to enter the bathroom, leaving the door open behind you. “How was the dinner with the good bro’s?” You ask before beginning to brush your teeth. “Oh, you know the usual, Doc messing around, Anderson hyping him up and Matt being an idiot. Normal stuff.” You laugh at the understatements in Nick’s recollection of the night out. You spit out and rinse your mouth out before leaving the bathroom and walking to your side of the bed to plug in your phone and prepare for sleep. 

“So how was your dinner date with Adam?” Nick pipes up as he sits with his back against the bed’s headboard lazily flicking through the channels on the TV. You eye him up before responding “Nick we’ve been over this, Adam is my best friend and that’s it.” He turns his full attention towards you before speaking again. “Oh really, is that why you were cuddling in the middle of the cafeteria?” You could tell he was getting irritated but so were you. “We were not cuddling in the cafeteria, Jesus Christ It’s like you don’t trust me at all sometimes.” You were tired and annoyed at having to defend your friendship to Nick. “I do trust you Y/N, I just don’t trust him” You roll your eyes at his lame excuse. “What’re you rolling your eyes for? It's the truth, I don’t trust him!” It took everything in you not to laugh at that. “Come on Nick it shouldn’t matter if you trust Adam or not if you trust me! You’re just being mean to him because you’re jealous!” 

Nick let out a shocked breath before smiling. “I am not jealous of that idiot” You ignored his petty attempts to get you to defend Adam. you saw through his mind games. “I think you are” You’re getting giddy now, you’re under the younger Jackson brother’s skin. “Am not” He childishly quips back. “Oh you’re so jealous of my big strong cowboy” You stoked the flames in Nick’s eyes as you sat facing him on your knees. “Why would I be jealous of that bumbling drunk?” You were still smiling at Nick as he glared daggers back at you. “Hmm, that’s a good question why would you be jealous of that tall, muscular southern boy who was one half still the longest-reigning tag champs in AEW history, with golden hair and-” You’re inputted from your mocking when Nick grabs your knees to pull you towards him before you fall back so you’re now on your back with Nick towering over you. Your hips trapped under his with your legs spread to either side of his waist. He’s replying most of his body weight on his forearms which frame your head. His face mere inches from your own. “Are you done?” He leans down to growl into your ear. 

You grin to yourself knowing you’ve won. You let out a small shaky breath before nodding into his shoulder. “Good, now as I was saying, I could never and will never be jealous of that dumbass cowboy because he could never make you feel the things I do.” He has your hips locked against the mattress and you can’t help but try to grind up against him. He smirks at your attempt at more friction. “I know what you want baby girl, but I ain’t gonna give it to you” You whine at this unfair denial of your pleasure. “Why not?” you demanded to know. “I need to hear you say it”  You were confused at Nick’s request. “Hear me say what?” Nick raises himself so that he’s looming over you, his icy Atlantic ocean blue eyes staring into your own. “I need to hear you say that I am far better than that idiot in every single way, I have a better body than him, I’m a better tag wrestler than he could ever dream of being, I got the greatest damn hot tag in the business and I have far superior hair than him.” Seeing Nick’s arrogant in bed was intoxicating, he had never gotten like this with you before but now you knew you would be pushing his buttons more often. “Baby Do I have to? I mean I bet I could call up Adam and he’d give me whatever I wanted” You were being bratty but you loved it. “Oh baby girl don’t lie to yourself like that, he could never give you what I give you, he could never make you feel as good as I do.” 

The passion in Nick’s eyes took your breath away. Nick shifted his weight onto one forearm as he moved his other hand down to roam the side of your ribs and to ghost your breast, arching your back towards his hand did nothing as he’d move before you could get the touch you carved  “Nick I need you, I need you to make me feel good” You wanted Nick so bad at this point. “Hmm, I think I need some more convincing. Beg me for it.” Nick’s arrogant smirk was driving you crazy. “Please Nick, please you know you’re the only one that can make me feel this good” Nick was trailing kisses along your jawline as you pleaded with him. “How could I possibly turn away my needy little slut? I’m gonna make you feel so good you forget how to say your own name.” small moans and whimpers were escaping your lips as Nick nipped and sucked your neck slowly making his way down your body. “You’re wearing too many clothes, off, now” Nick demands as he stands up to tower over you as he strips himself. You rush to strip as quick as you can, throwing your clothes aimlessly off the bed. 

You lay back on the bed on your bed as Nick stands naked between your spread legs. Nick’s hands roam your thighs before bends down to lay open mouth kisses along your inner thigh travelling from your left knee up to your crotch purposefully skipping your pussy as he travels back up your right leg leaving a trail of hickeys in his wake. Your attempt to buck your hips towards Nick is stopped by one of Nick’s muscular arms resting on your pelvis keeping you pressed against the mattress. Nick’s teasing streak continues as he delivers a long swipe of his tongue to your pussy just stopping before your clit. Before You can whine at his negligence of your clit he pulls back slightly only to spit on you before he begins to give gentle kitten licks to your clit, causing your moans to slowly build in volume. He gives more general attention to your pussy before he suddenly latches onto your clit causing you to scream his name. The onslaught of a rhythm he builds, long swipes of his tongue on your pussy before teasing your hole that was clenching around nothing, desperate to be filled before he focused his attention onto you pulsing clit,  has the coil in your pelvis tightening by the second. You didn’t care if the entire hotel knew you were screaming Nick’s name at this point. Your eyes roll into the back of your head as the coil in your pelvis snaps and you cum onto Nick’s face. You don’t get rest as Nick continues to tongue fuck you through your orgasm. Once you’ve slightly caught your breath you look down to Nick still kneeling between your thighs with a sly smile on his face, before you can ask his plans you feel one of his calloused, long fingers tease your quivering hole. Your head falls back against the mattress as you feel his finger plunge onto you. He shallowly thrusts his finger in and out of you. You can feel him brush against your G spot and you are begging him for more before you even think about it. He grants your wish by sliding a second finger into you. You feel him resume his pace, thrusting his two fingers into you, the pressure against your g spot building and building. You felt him slip a third finger into you and your hand moves down to grab onto his head as the feeling of fullness makes your head spin. With the pace of Nick’s fingers being thrust into you, You can feel your second orgasm approaching. Suddenly he leans down and begins to suck on your clit and your vision goes completely white as your second orgasm of the night hits you. 

He continues to thrust into you through your orgasm before he slides his fingers out of you. You whine at the loss. He climbs back up your body before he settles above you. He raises the fingers that were in you to his lips before they disappear into his mouth as he licks off your cum from his fingers. You moan at the sight of him licking your essence off his fingers before he takes them out and he lowers himself onto you to capture your mouth in a breathtakingly passionate kiss. Feeling his body weight pressing you into the mattress with his arms around you and his lips locked onto your own provided you with a level of comfort that only he could give you. Your hands rise from your sides to tangle in his long luxurious hair. You feel his hard erection against your inner thigh and you raise your hips slightly off the bed to grind against it. You hear a groan from Nick as his hand settles on your neck, holding your face in place as he moves back slightly to stare into your eyes. You feel Nick move his other hand down to his dick as he holds the shaft of it to tease you by sliding through your folds before he begins to slowly slip the tip into your hole. You can feel yourself trying to tighten around Nick, you feel the need to have Nick inside of you build and build.  

Before you can beg, Nick grants your wish by thrusting into you. From the get-go, he sets a mind-numbing pace. Fucking you so hard and deeply that you feel like he’s fucking the breath out of your lungs. Nick moves both of his hands underneath your thighs to pin your knees up to your chest in an agonisingly good position. The coil in your pelvis was tightening with every thrust Nick delivers to you. Your moans were mixing with Nicks and you can feel his thrusts start to stutter as his own orgasm was fast approaching. You feel one of Nick’s hands move around your thigh so he could rub tight quick circles onto your clit. The sudden spike of pleasure causing your third orgasm of the night to hit you out of nowhere. Your pelvic muscles tighten and pulse around Nick causing his thrusts to stutter, he thrusts into you a few more times before he paints your walls with his cum. He releases your thighs before he collapses on top of you causing your break out into a smile. You raise your hands to rub his back and comb through his hair. He raises his head slightly to gaze into your eyes. “Did I make you feel good princess?” Nick smiles as you both break into giggles. “Oh yeah Nick, You made me feel real good” You lay gentle kisses on Nick’s face. You loved having Nick in your arms like this, his head nuzzled into your neck. You can feel the gentle smile on his face as he gives your neck lazy kisses. “I love you Nicki” You mumble “I love you too baby.” You hear Nick grumble into your neck as you feel yourself lull into sleep.

[theggning]

Codsworth Is So Underrated, You Guys

ALTERNATE TITLE: Codsworth and the Totally Understated Mindbending Evolution of Artificial Consciousness

I find Codsworth is often the most underrated of the 16 companions in Fallout 4. Your faithful robot butler is among the very first you can recruit and an excellent early-game ally, but he has a few disadvantages in gameplay that mean he’s often sent back to Sanctuary before long. Codsworth is a mid-to-close range fighter only, cannot wear armor or be equipped with weapons. He cannot be healed by stimpak, which makes him a liability if you’re playing on Survival mode. He has no companion quest of his own, so unless you particularly enjoy him there’s not a compelling reason to keep him for a long time. He also becomes recruitable exactly 2 minutes after adorable puppy Best Boy Dogmeat, so he is often (understandably) replaced just as soon as he’s made available.

But there is this great, completely understated facet to Codsworth, so understated that the game does not draw attention to it in any way. And yet, it is a wonderful reflection of many of the themes of Fallout 4 and, I believe, a pretty strong indication of its thesis statement.

Now what in the hell am I talking about?

Like many sci-fi/fantasy universes, the Fallout series is home to many highly-advanced robots. Robots were commonplace before the Great War, and many have survived the bombs intact and in working order. Others have been built or modified by wastelanders to serve various tasks (Percy, Ada.) The most important thing to understand about robots, though, is though they may have vivid personalities programmed in, they are widely accepted to be objects. They are thought of the same way as an appliance, a machine built for a specific purpose and programmed to follow a strict set of protocols.

Many jokes revolve around the relatively rigid intelligence of robots. Pre-War, many were deployed in inappropriate jobs or designed haphazardly (Mister Handies acting as nurses in a hospital, “paramedic” Protectrons with massive deadly tasers for hands, military robots constantly going haywire and erupting in friendly fire.) Others continue to man businesses and play out daily tasks as they were programmed to do over 200 years ago. Most robots are incapable of understanding anything beyond their initial programming, and most pre-War robots are completely unaware that the Great War ever happened.

When the Sole Survivor reunites with Codsworth at the ruins of their home, it seems like he, too, doesn’t understand what’s going on. He talks about tending the (dead) garden, references the (ghoulified) neighbors, and generally acts like the chipper robot butler Sole left behind on their way to Vault 111.

But there is something slightly… off in Codsworth’s dialogue here. Though he acts like the war never happened, he also specifically mentions details that suggest it did:

Player Default: Codsworth! You're still... fully operational?          

Codsworth: {Defiant} Well of course, mum. You can thank the fine engineers at General Atomics for that! At least, you could have. Had they not been... vaporized.

A bit over 210 actually, mum. Give or take a little for the Earth's rotation and some minor dings to the ole' chronometer. That means you're two centuries late for dinner! Ha ha ha. Perhaps I can whip you up a snack? You must be famished.

You've no idea the desperation for human contact one develops over 200 years. {Upset, recalling bad memories of encountering raiders and scavengers. / Disgust} And when you do encounter them? Oh the cruelty! You're either... target practice or... spare parts!

Even stranger, Codsworth mentions details that are plainly made-up (or some kind of delusion):

Codsworth: It's been ages since we've had a proper family activity. Checkers. Or perhaps charades. Shaun does so love that game. Is the lad... with you...?   

Player Default: Codsworth... listen to me carefully... have you seen him? Have you seen Shaun?              

Codsworth: Why, sir had him last, remember? Perhaps he's gone to the Parker residence to arrange a play-date?

(Shaun is an infant. He is too young to play charades or to go to the neighbors for a play-date.)

So at once, Codsworth does and does not acknowledge the war. He does and does not seem to understand what’s happened, and he does and does not seem to follow Sole’s urgency regarding their spouse’s death and Shaun’s kidnapping.

And then, after a speech check, Codsworth finally snaps and breaks down sobbing in despair. Not only does he understand that the war happened, he has developed the ability to get depressed about it. Longing for human contact and with nothing else to do, he’s even developed coping mechanisms to help him try to deal with his loneliness and despair—futilely trying to do his chores and deluding himself into pretending everything is completely normal.

Wait a minute. Sobbing? Despair? Depression? Coping mechanisms and delusions? This Is all pretty sophisticated stuff to be programmed into a robot, and if you spend more time with Codsworth, the reality of what’s happened to him becomes apparent:

Codsworth has evolved beyond his programming. In his 210 lonely years of existence, he has developed emotional reactions and self-awareness far beyond that of most other robots, and, indeed, has basically evolved an artificial consciousness.

“Emergent intelligence” is the theoretical ability of an AI to eventually develop something resembling human thought processes, and it seems that our dear Codsworth has undergone this. Traveling with him, he displays many sophisticated thoughts and behaviors far beyond what most robots are shown to be capable of. He has memories of pre-War time and places, and understands how various locations have changed. He is capable of learning new information and forming opinions on it, gaining his own understanding of the people and factions in the Commonwealth. He can feel happiness, sorrow, fear, disgust. He can anticipate things, predict danger and imagine how people might respond to your actions. The mere he fact he has opinions and a moral code that he applies to you shows he has free will, something even other robot companions don’t (Ada has a personality, but absolutely does not care about your actions.)

He’s also smart enough to make many wry observational jokes, and to lay one hell of a sick burn on you:

{Joking - Found an old bowling alley. / Amused} Fancy a game, mum? Something tells me the bumpers are no longer available.

 Codsworth’s intelligence is even more sophisticated than that. He displays stunning self-awareness, frequently referencing the fact he is a robot and what that means. He is very proud of his background as General Atomics’ finest, and seems pleased with his robot nature and his lot in life. (Unlike Curie, I don’t think Codsworth would ever really want to gain a synth body. He seems quite happy as he is.)

Here he is making reference to still feeling the tug of his programming:

{Seeing an office with chairs arranged in a circle. / Neutral} I've the most incredible urge to rearrange those chairs in a more perfect circle.

Understanding when other robots are restricted by theirs:

A pity. It appears Deezer's programming is too severe to allow for normal conversation. Ah well.

And when they’re actually not:

Codsworth: Greetings, sir. Good to see another robot in town. That chef hat becomes you.

Takahashi: Nan-ni shimasho-ka?

Codsworth: Takahashi you say? I'm Codsworth, a pleasure to make your acquaintance.

Takahashi: Nan-ni shimasho-ka?              

Codsworth: Is that so? Well, we both know RobCo is no General Atomics. It's not surprising it failed, shoddy work and all.  {Friendly - trying to cheer up another robot. / Friendly} Chin up, though. Never know when parts may turn up.

 And here’s Galaxy Brain Codsworth ruminating on his own state of being and contemplating his nature:

{Disappointed that he can't be 100% human sometimes. / Sad} It's unfortunate that I lack the proper design to consume liquids. Something about camaraderie over a few drinks is very inviting.            

I suppose if I had the hardware, I'd have the software as well. I'd hate to see how that'd affect my honesty and manner settings.

{Reconsidering what he thought was a good idea. / Thinking} Indeed. Perhaps I should rethink my initial desire.

Hilariously, Codsworth does not seem fully aware of how remarkable his intelligence is. He occasionally says things like “if I had feelings” and “if I could feel things,” indicating that in some ways he still believes he is only a robot and defines himself by what a robot is and does.

But as we can see, our humble robot butler has essentially evolved to become the smartest, most emotionally intelligent and person-like robot in the Commonwealth*, and potentially in the series.

([SIDE NOTE: Other FO4 robots nearing Codsworth’s level of consciousness and developed personality include Captain Ironsides, KLE-O, Whitechapel Charlie, and perhaps Takahashi. Curie is close, but also receives the unfair advantage of being uploaded into a synth body with a human brain. Jezebel also functions off of a human brain. Nick is not a robot, he’s a synth (though he does jokingly refer to himself as one) and also has the advantage of a human brain encoded on his processor.])

Also hilariously, the game basically does not acknowledge Codsworth’s impressive evolution. At all. There is absolutely no direct mention of it in the script. It is all left to ambient dialogue and the player’s own observations. And because so many people overlook Codsworth as a companion, they may not even realize exactly how unique his expanded consciousness is.

Now, you might call this total lack of mention a mistake, an oversight on Bethesda’s part, or that old chestnut “bad writing.” I don’t think it is. I think it’s a deliciously subtle little detail to include in a story about humanity, machines, artificial intelligence, and what makes a person.

Many of the themes of FO4 revolve around synths—distinctly not robots, but androids, artificially created beings with fully organic human bodies. Most of the storyline factions have strong beliefs about synths and the relative humanity thereof. The Institute believes that synths are objects, tools, machines no different from a robot who are only simulating their personalities through programming. The Brotherhood believes synths are monstrous abominations, a danger to humanity itself, technology run amok which needs to be destroyed. The Railroad believes they are people. Not humans, but people, built instead of born, free-thinking beings that deserve to be treated with respect and given rights.

Through quests, dialogue, notes, worldbuilding and other venues, players explore these questions. What makes someone a person? If your personality and memories can be rewritten or programmed, then who are you, really? Where do we draw the line between humans and machines, and how do we decide who belongs where?

Meanwhile, as the player contemplates the nature of personhood and the definition of intelligence, their robot butler quietly evolves into a fully-conscious person on his own, right beside them.

Codsworth is unquestionably a machine, but also unquestionably beyond the appliance he was built to be. Which to some philosophies and players should really beg a few other questions. If a robot can be considered a person, then what makes synths so different? And how many excuses do we have to make to pretend otherwise?

Ya boy Codsworth may not be flashy, or powerful, or kissable. He may not be the most glamorous companion around. But he is a good friend, a beloved member of the family, and above all else, a loyal butler—content to serve, quietly and humbly doing his job where some may never even notice him-- or the fact that he’s casually become his own person and sent generations of roboticists and philosophers spinning in their graves.

[gumnut-logic]

Callisto (Part Seven - Investigation)

Prologue 1. Incident - Bit 1 | Bit 2 2. Fallout - Bit 1 | Bit 2 | Bit 3 3. Voyage - Bit 1 | Bit 2 | Bit 3 4. Arrival - Bit 1 | Bit 2 5. Orientation 6. Rescue Site 7. Investigation

Here we are again with the next three thousand odd words of this fic.

Many thanks as always to @vegetacide​ @tsarinatorment​ @scribbles97​ @janetm74​ and my wonderful science officer @onereyofstarlight​ (who spent yet more time tackling my odd questions in the last week :D). You guys are amazing and I can’t thank you enough for all your amazing readthroughs and support.

You guys totally spoilt me last week so I hope this week delivers some entertainment. ::hugs you all so much:: Thank you so much for your amazing support.

Warnings: minor whump, far too much indulgence in scenery on my part because I’m having too much fun.

I hope you enjoy this.

-o-o-o-

Alan was sent back with Gordon and one of the dragonflies, while Virgil and Scott scouted back along the tunnel for a high enough point that either a molepod or Thunderbird Three could drill down deep enough to give them easy access for Thunderbird Four.

They found it in one of the larger caverns about a kilometre back from the Crystal Cave as they had come to call it.

Having seen so much crystal in one spot, Virgil now found himself spotting more and more of it along the tunnels. On first glance he had assumed most of the sparkles in the walls were patches of ice – there was certainly enough of the stuff around to cater to the concept. But on closer examination, there were crystals of all sizes and colours dotted along their return path.

In the dry cavern there were even more. Not anywhere near as many as in the crystal cave, but enough that Virgil pulled over, climbed out and collected a couple of specimens for later examination. John definitely wanted in on that analysis. He was still hunting for the source of the interference and was at this point reaching for every straw he could grab.

But first they had lives to save.

The roof of the Dry Cavern, as it was dubbed for convenience’s sake, had a number of large crystalline formations and there was a plea from the Base’s scientific staff to avoid as much damage as possible.

As if Virgil needed that reminder. He wasn’t one for blatant destruction of anything, but in this case as he planted the homing beacon for Three, he realised they were going to lose at least one beautiful structure in the process. So, it was with some sadness, he flipped the dragonfly and attached it to the rock ceiling of Dry Cavern and attempted to uproot a crystal tree as tall and as wide as himself to take back to the base.

With the application of a laser cutter, it came away surprisingly easily and with minimal damage. The dragonfly’s two front claws held it as delicately as they could. Carefully flipping the pod back upright, Virgil lowered it down to land and clambered out to secure the crystal.

Halfway out of the pod his vision doubled and he slipped.

Callisto’s gravity was almost nothing in comparison to Earth’s but the laws of physics still held strong and without atmospheric density to slow him down in any way, his momentum threw him at the rocky floor with enough force to cause him to bounce with a painful squawk. Previously obtained bruises complained and his head throbbed enough to turn his stomach over.

He ended up on the ground, on his side, doing his best not to puke all over the inside of his helmet, his only thought being how bad things would be if he failed.

“Virgil!” Scott was suddenly beside him, hand on his arm and the ever so familiar worry in his eyes.

Virgil swallowed and attempted to keep his stomach under control while his head screamed at him.

God.

But as before, it dissipated suddenly and Virgil was left panting and wondering what the hell was going on.

What the hell had the T- Drive done to him?

“Talk to me, Virgil. What happened?”

“Was dizzy for a second. Sorry.” He waved Scott’s hand away and sat up slowly. Everything stayed stable and sane.

God, he was tired. “I’m good. Just need some rack time.”

Scott glared at him. “I’ve seen you tired. You’ve never fallen off a pod before.”

“It’s the gravity, or the lack of it. It’s throwing me off.” He pushed himself to his feet.

But he knew what was coming next.

“I’m flying. Get in the back.”

“Scott-“

“Now.”

Virgil growled at him. “I’m going to secure the crystals first. We need to get these back to base in one piece.” And he did, Scott at his elbow the entire time. The man knew how to hover.

Once that was complete, Scott marched him to the backseat and made sure he climbed in safely…like he was a little kid or something.

Damnit.

But the moment he let himself relax, his whole body made it very clear that rest was a good thing. Scott’s flying skills kept the dragonfly consistently level and despite himself, Virgil dozed in and out a good percentage of the way back to base.

Despite the headache.

Of course, all of it resulted in a blowout with both Scott and his father.

“I’m fine!”

“You fell!”

“I slipped. It happens you know. I’ve rested. I’m fine. Now can we get moving? I need to be out there to assist with Four.”

Scott opened his mouth to no doubt confine him to the base with their father and Uncle Lee.

“Virgil, you will undergo an examination by the Base medics before you do anything.” Dad’s voice held that strength of command that Scott had so inherited.

He opened his mouth to rebut.

“Now, Virgil, or I will send Lee out in your stead. You don’t mess around out here. You know that.”

Virgil flicked his glance to the engineer his father had relied on for years, who had actually worked with International Rescue early on.

Goddamnit!

“Fine! But there is nothing wrong with me.”

“Then prove it.” Scott was glaring at him, blue eyes on fire and standing strong beside their father.

Well, at least they were working together, even if it was a combined front against him.

Three had already left, so they had to rely on a Base medic. Fortunately, she agreed with Virgil. Tension headache, the voyage out there and lack of sleep was all they could come up with and since he had snoozed in the pod and his skill set was seriously needed, Scott grudgingly gave him clearance.

Virgil so did not have time for this.

-o-o-o-

Alan slipped into Three’s pilot seat with a sigh. There was something about his ‘bird that was just comforting. Familiarity, probably, but also the knowledge that he had the power to get home under his very fingertips. Pods were great and all, but Alan preferred the power of ion engines and the strength of his ‘bird’s hull.

Gordon in the co-pilot’s seat wasn’t the norm, however.

“Okay, let’s get this ‘bird off the ground.”

Alan glared at him, but poked his comms. “Callisto Base, requesting departure for local foray as filed.”

“Thunderbird Three, you have clearance. Safe journey.”

Journey? He wouldn’t call it a journey. More a nick out the back door to grab takeout, if anything.

Great, now he was hungry for pizza and the nearest pizza joint was a bazillion miles away.

So gonna have a pizza night when they got home.

“FAB, Callisto Base.”

The airlock doors above began their ponderous opening sequence like something directly out of an old sci-fi flick. All that was missing was the cinematic music.

Firing Three’s engines was like breathing again after being stifled for a long time. She lifted, rising slowly into the airlock, her length proof that everything the Base owned was smaller. He only had a handful of metres to play with at either end and he was pretty sure he was scorching their inner door.

Nonetheless, they waited and the outer doors slid open revealing Jupiter once again in all her glory.

Alan eased her out slowly making sure she was fully in the clear before tilting her towards the north and, with a twitch of a thruster, throwing her across the jagged landscape.

The moon surface was craters on craters on craters. The Asgard formation rippled outwards in all directions creating rings of hills, stark greys and silvers against the deep of the black sky. Burr Crater was a splash of bright reflected sunlight glaring enough for the filters on the windows to react and protect their eyesight.

Alan brought up the holoprojection showing exactly where Virgil wanted him to drill.

Another flick of a wrist and Three pivoted on her nose, extended her arms, and settled gently onto the surface of the moon.

“Thunderbird One, Thunderbird Three is in position.”

Comms crackled and Alan frowned.

“That doesn’t sound good.”

State the obvious, Gordon. “Thunderbird One, do you read?”

“We hear you, Thunderbird Three. Dragonfly Pod Two en route to rendezvous.” Scott’s voice cut out and Virgil’s took over. “Gordon, deploy Thunderbird Four. Crane her to the surface. Alan we will need to assemble a large gauge molepod complete with vacuum extraction, as we discussed. We’re about fifteen minutes out.”

“FAB, Dragonfly Two.” The line cut out and Alan turned to his co-pilot. “Okay, Gords, your turn.”

His brother’s face split into a grin. “See you in the sky.”

Alan groaned. “Never gonna hear the end of this, am I?”

“Nope, no time soon. Thunderbird Four is going to fly. No more being dragged around by her sisters. Gonna get her some VTOL.”

Alan clambered out of his seat and half floated, half fell to the back of the cabin. Partial gravity was always odd. “Hoverjets, Gords.”

“Tomayto, tomato, squirt. My ‘bird is gonna fly.”

“In micro-gravity.”

“I’m taking what I can get.”

Alan rolled his eyes. Insufferable.

What followed was Three craning out Four through the cargo bay doors and gently lowering her to the icy surface of the moon.

This time, instead of sleds, Brains had attached hoverjets to the body of Gordon’s submarine. Personally, Alan thought she looked like she had a really bad case of acne, her usually smooth lines interrupted by pustules that spat blue ‘fire’.

Gordon apparently couldn’t stop grinning.

Of course, that all changed once Scott and Virgil arrived on scene. Virgil was unusually curt and Scott was hovering just enough to alert Alan that something wasn’t right.

A quick check with John revealed that Virgil wasn’t feeling well and that Scott wanted him off the mission, but Virgil refused.

That just set Alan off. It was always worrisome when an older brother wasn’t right, and considering all his brothers were older, it happened far more often than Alan liked.

So it was with worried eyes that Alan watched Virgil and Scott deploy the molepod.

The plan was for Three to dig down as far as she could - which was a decent distance, if Alan could say so himself, and then lower the extra-large molepod into the hole so Virgil could complete the tunnel to break through into the cave network below.

They were far enough away from the Crystal Cave, as it was now called, to hopefully leave it unaffected by all these excavations.

Gordon was to follow them in Hoversub Number Four - apparently his fish brother was still working on the new name - navigate to the Cave and revert to Four’s original purpose of being a submarine.

Three’s drill was an oddity for a space craft, but an oddity that had saved Alan’s bacon so many times.

The thought immediately prompted hunger pangs. Bacon.

Maybe he should shove a snack down his throat.

“Alan, start drilling.” Virgil’s sharp voice on comms snapped him out of it.

If Three deployed her drill rather abruptly at that, Alan felt he wasn’t to blame.

Fortunately, she performed with her usual ease and brilliance, creating a massive hole in the side of the moon and a cloud of debris to match, rock and ice thrown up in glittering haze.

God, space was beautiful sometimes.

Once Three had gone as deep as she could, Alan shifted her to one side and acted as a crane to lower Virgil and Scott in the molepod down into the newly created tunnel.

A suspended moment and the billowing dust resumed.

“Hey, Gords, is Virgil okay?” He couldn’t help it. He was worried.

“He’s okay, Allie. Just some leftovers from the ride out here.”

“How are you feeling?”

“Don’t mention it. I don’t want to think about it.”

“Sorry.” It was raining glitter in slow motion.

“How you didn’t notice, I have no idea.”

Gordon was in Four and Alan in Three, but Alan shrugged anyway. “Dunno?” But he was distracted by the holographic image of his two eldest brothers gnawing through rock far below. Almost there. Thank goodness, Three’s grapple was almost at its full extent.

“Thunderbird Three, get ready to reel us in.” Scott’s voice was tight.

Far below the mole broke through into the cavern and began to fall in the ponderous gravity. Alan yanked a lever and pulled the cable tight, catching the pod in a pendulous dangle. “Gotcha.”

“Hold it, Thunderbird Three.” Virgil’s voice was even tighter than Scott’s and Alan wondered if the pod swinging was messing with him. A moment. “Okay, retract slightly.”

Alan did so and the pendulum slowed and eventually his brother gave the go ahead to fully haul them out of that hole.

-o-o-o-

Virgil was beginning to wonder if there was something seriously wrong with him. Digging the hole had been simple, but the moment they burst through into the cavern, his stomach tried to invert itself. It had taken everything he had to keep his insides on the inside.

But then it disappeared again! Leaving the goddamned headache that just refused to go away and was currently pounding through his head to the tune of his heartbeat.

Maybe Scott was right. Maybe there was something seriously wrong.

But he had a job to do.

Thunderbird Four was literally bouncing on the spot by the time the Mole resurfaced dangling from Three’s grapple. Virgil had piloted the pod simply because it was his speciality. Scott had accompanied him because he was worried, but he let him drive.

Such was not the case with the Dragonfly. Virgil was clearly demoted via a pair of determined eyes and exiled to the backseat.

Fine.

It gave him a chance to examine the sensor readings of the rock they had burrowed through on the way down. It was a thoroughly fascinating combination of ice and minerals, silicon in particular.

Thunderbird Four lifted smoothly off the glistening moon surface and with a very unprofessional ‘Yahoo’ slid into the entrance of their new tunnel and disappeared.

Scott was only a second behind.

Four bounced like a rubber ball off the walls, darting around the corners so nimble, Scott had to ask their fish brother to damn well slow down.

Which was just as well, because before they knew it, both Four and the Dragonfly emerged into the cavern, Four in ponderous freefall until the hoverjets could catch on the floor.

“That was awesome! Can I keep the jets, Virg? Please?” An Olympic gold medal, a WASP career and vast experience as an IR operative, and Gordon was still a kid at the candy store begging for his favourite lolly.

“Not important right now, Thunderbird Four.” Commander Tracy’s tone was sharp.

“Just asking!” But below them the bright yellow submarine had obviously latched onto the comms beacon and was moving towards the tunnel leading to the Crystal Cave.

Scott followed as closely as practical and it wasn’t long before both Four and the Dragonfly were sitting on the beach staring at the lake.

Scott and Virgil climbed out of the pod, its lights streaking twin beams across the water and lighting up the crystal walls and glass lake. Gordon hovered at the edge.

“You okay, Thunderbird Four?” Virgil was frowning.

“Pretty fine and dandy, if I may say so myself. Gonna go hover myself out into the depths I think.” His tone while flippant, was distracted. “Scans are reading a hell of a lot of that quartz and I’d rather not test Four’s hull unless I absolutely have to.” There was a grunt. “As it is, that water isn’t just water. I’m going to be cleaning my girl for week after this. It’s mineral soup.”

“Is it a concern? Did you want to abort?” Scott was predictably concerned.

“No, no. She can handle it. I may just need to rope a bro or two into maintenance.” There was a snort that no doubt would be accompanying a grin.

Virg was tired and there were people needing rescue. “Move your ass, Gordon.”

That earned him another worried set of blue eyes. But Virgil was over it and just needed to get this job done.

“FAB, Thunderbird Two.” Four started moving forward, her jets rippling the glass of the water.

Gordon hovered a fair distance out into the middle of the lake before gradually shutting down the hoverjets, letting the sub dip below the surface.

A single breath and she was gone, only circles on circles of steadily spreading ripples remained.

It was damned eerie.

Scott looked like he wanted to climb into the water after their brother.

“Wow, guys, it is amazing down here.” Typical Gordon.

Virgil would have loved to rub his temples.

“Sending visuals to Five. Johnny, you receiving?”

“Affirmative, Thunderbird Four, though I am encountering some interference. Eos, can you clear that up?”

“Guys, I’m getting some temperature variances down here.”

Scott shifted where he stood, his space suit flexing over taught muscles. “Clarify, Thunderbird Four.”

“It’s getting hotter. Not by much, but a definite increase in temperature as I go deeper.” A thoughtful mutter. “This is deeper than it appears, Scott. Readings are fluctuating. What was a hundred metres is now closer to six hundred. Damn, there’s another temperature spike!”

“Thunderbird Four, interference is increasing.” John’s voice crackled as if for emphasis. “We can’t clear it.”

Scott flicked on his wrist display, the two lifesigns pulsing under the icon of Thunderbird Four. “Do you see anything, Gordon? Any sign of what we are facing?”

Gordon muttered something that was drenched in static. “Crystal…temp..ture…rising…” The signal ended in a hiss of static that hurt Virgil’s ears.

Scott’s voice was decision sharp. “Thunderbird Four, abort mission. Return to shore.”

“Sc-“ But the signal cut out completely.

Shit!

The rock under Virgil’s feet trembled. What the-?

Ripples vibrated across the lake.

“Gordon, do you read?!”

“Thunderbird One!” John’s voice had an edge of alarm. “Registering seismic movement in your vicinity!”

“Gordon!”

“Guys! Get out of there! Now!”

“Gordon!”

Virgil grabbed Scott as a shadow grew out of the darkness and into the twin beams of light.

Oh, hell!

“Scott! Move!”

The lake had swelled into a wave, a crest rushing at the shore they were standing on.

Virgil grabbed his brother, turned and ran for the pod.

His fingertips brushed cahelium as the wave hit. Virgil was lifted off his feet, Scott was torn from his grip and he was tumbling.

A sharp pain.

And…

Nothing.

-o-o-o-

Next

[stardust-walker]

World on Fire: Chapter 2 {Loki x Sigyn)

Summary: Sigyn was supposed to have died almost 100 years ago. A peace mission to Migard gone wrong and she had never returned. Everyone had thought she was dead until Loki is shown someone who looks too familiar when he comes to Earth on a mission. Sharon Odell. Shannon Orwell. Sidney Orwell. No matter what name she goes by, it’s all the same. Now that Gods and heroes are real, there’s no use hiding who she really is anymore.

Masterlist

Chapter 2: Start a war

Sidney hated the fact that she was stuck without much of a choice. She had to trust SHIELD and that meant she had to trust Nick Fury with her life. A heavy sigh left her lips right as she heard a branch crack in the woods somewhere behind her. The blonde squeezed her eyes shut and took a deep breath. She couldn’t get turned around right now when she was so close to getting out of here. 

Sidney’s eyes popped open as she heard a jet flying overhead. She was off again, but this time she didn’t even care. She pushed her way through the brush and branches before she stumbled into a clearing. As the wind whipped around her, she faced the woods. Those rogue agents could still be after her.

“Miss Orwell,” a voice shouted over the whir of the engine. She had been so in her own world, she hadn’t even heard them land behind her. A small smile appeared on her face as she turned and met the gaze of Phil Coulson. “How nice of you to join us,” Coulson called over the roar of the engines. Sidney stomped past him as the jet began to ascend again.

As the ramp began to close back up, they could just see the two SHIELD agents stumble out of the woods. “So those bastards were still following me,” Sidney grumbled as she shrugged off her leather jacket. 

“Some branches in your hair,” Coulson smiled as he motioned towards the back of his own head.

Her eyes narrowed and a sarcastic remark was cut off by another voice.

“Anymore detours?” That voice.

Sidney turned quickly. Her jaw nearly dropped as she finally realized they weren’t the only passengers on the jet. She swallowed hard as Coulson stepped forward to make introductions. She could practically feel the excitement that radiated off of the older man. “Steve, this is Sidney Orwell. Sidney, this is-”

“Steve Rogers,” Sidney interrupted as she took a step forward and held out her hand. Steve stood and squeezed a little too tight as they shook hands. “Pleasure to meet you, Captain.” She smirked as she pulled her hand from his grasp and straightened out her green sweater. “I have to say, I’ve been dying to meet you since they thawed you out.”

“It’s a pleasure, ma’am. I wish the circumstances were better,” he smiled at her. She couldn’t help but notice how terribly sad he looked. “I knew an Orwell.” Sidney’s shoulder stiffened as Phil’s eyebrows shot up. 

“Shannon,” Sidney stated after a few moments of silence. Her mind worked quickly. “My grandmother,” she answered Steve’s unspoken question. This seemed to comfort the man somewhat. The two of them were silent for a second.

“You mean to tell me that your grandmother knew Captain America and you held out on me?”

“Aren’t you supposed to be working right now, Philip?” Sidney responded in a cold voice. “Call me old-fashioned, but sometimes a girl would like to know who’s trying to kidnap her. Along with what they want with the Tesseract.” 

“Hope you’re a quick study. There’s a final exam when we land,” Coulson dead-panned as he picked up a tablet off of the seat where Steve had been along with a folder. “This will tell you all that we’re working with so far.”

Sidney lowered herself onto the bench across from Steve as the two men moved closer to the cockpit to talk. She was grateful they weren’t closer when she opened the folder. It felt like all of the air left her lungs and she just couldn’t bring herself to breathe as she stared at the image that had clearly been printed from security footage. There was Selvig on the right and Barton on the left. They hadn’t been lying about agents being compromised that was for sure.

It was the man in the middle that had caught her attention. He looked tired and sickly, but it was him. The person who had tried to kidnap her was Loki. She could feel the whole charade starting to crumble down around her already.

Coulson had realized a few minutes before they landed that he needed to make sure Sidney knew exactly what she was getting into. She quickly recited a shortened version of the notes she’d read about the others. Banner was a genius who turned into a monster due to gamma radiation. Natasha was a former Soviet spy, current SHIELD spy. She had tried hard to repress any emotion in her voice when she stated all she knew was that Iron Man was a man with more money than God.

Steve had laughed at that one. “Sounds like something your grandmother would say about his father,” he shook his head as the small jet jolted.

Coulson clapped his hands together. “Alright, everyone out of the bus.”

Sidney rolled her eyes as she slapped her hand down on the folder one last time before she turned to stand up. Steve had his hand held out in front of her. “What a gentleman. This must be what it was like in the good old days,” she joked as she allowed him to help her to her feet. The blonde still felt far off in her own world as she shrugged her jacket on and followed the men out onto the deck. 

The salty sea air relaxed her as she took a deep breath and allowed herself to get lost in the sensation of it for just a few seconds. The dampness in the air felt nice after being cooped up in a jet or running through the woods for most of the day.

It felt like home.

“Welcome back, Sidney,” a familiar voice called out.

A smile spread across her face as she reached out an clapped a hand on Natasha’s shoulder. “Don’t get too cozy, Romanoff. I don’t plan to make this a regular thing.”

Natasha rolled her eyes as she motioned for the two of them to follow her. “It was quite the buzz around here when they found you in the ice.” The red-head addressed Steve as Sidney continued to survey her new surroundings. “I thought Coulson was gonna swoon.”

Sidney snorted. 

“Did he ask you to sign his Captain America training cards yet?”

“Natasha,” Sidney scolded jokingly. “Let’s not scare away out new friend.”

Natasha smirked at the blonde woman as Steve stepped forward to greet another new arrival.“Dr. Bruce Banner,” she interjected, “this is Dr. Sidney Orwell. Her family’s been with SHIELD since the beginning.”

“Very nice to meet you,” Banner waved at her as he smiled awkwardly. His hands tugged nervously at his jacket as he seemed to study her warily.

“It’s an honor to meet you, Dr. Banner. Your research is just absolutely incredible.”

“Sidney was brought on to help with the Tesseract…once we get a hand on it, anyway.” She didn’t miss how Steve seemed to tense up at every mention of the cube. 

“I expect we’ll be spending a lot of time together then,” Sidney grinned. “Don’t worry, I pride myself on being a very calming person.”

Bruce let out a short laugh. Sidney couldn’t shake the feeling that things were going to go downhill very fast. She had heard of the Hulk. Everyone had after what happened in the Bronx, but the only thing she could do was try. As long as she did what SHIELD wanted her to do, she could go home.

Home.

Maybe she could even see—No. She wouldn’t even let herself think about that even as her heart beat a little faster and her stomach turned.

“It must be strange for you. All of this,” Bruce motioned around the deck. At least Bruce seemed like a nice person; she wasn’t too sure she wanted to meet the other guy yet.

“Well actually, all of this is kind of familiar.” Steve sighed.

“We might want to step inside for a minute. It’s gonna get a little hard to breathe.” Sidney didn’t miss the smirk on Natasha’s face as she turned to face her. 

“God I hate planes,” Sidney whispered to herself as she jolted slightly when they rose up out of the ocean and into the sky.

The bridge of the plane was impressive that was for sure. If SHIELD was anything, they were efficient. Her stomach turned just a little bit as she spotted Nick Fury at the helm of everything.

“Gentlemen,” the older man called out as he turned around. “Sidney,” he nodded at her. The blonde responded with a sarcastic smile. 

“Hello, Nicholas.” She patted the man on the shoulder as he passed her to greet Bruce. 

“How long am I staying?”

“That’s exactly the question I had, doctor,” Sidney chimed in.

“Once we find the Tesseract, you’re in the wind,” Fury replied. Was that supposed to be reassuring?

Sidney narrowed her eyes slightly as Coulson spoke up from the lower deck. “We’re accessing every wirelessly accessible camera on the planet.”

Sidney suddenly became very aware of her own phone in her pocket. She would have to make a mental note to dump both of her phones when she was done with this place. Bastards.

“It’s still not going to find them in time,” Natasha sounded worried. That couldn’t be good.

“How many spectrometers do you have access to,” Bruce frowned. 

“How many are there?” Fury raised an eyebrow.

Sidney pursed her lips as she watched Banner shrug off his jacket. “Call every lab you know. Tell them to put the spectrometers on the roof and calibrate them for gamma rays. I’ll figure out a tracking algorithm. Basic cluster recognition.”

“Dr. Banner, I’m impressed.” Sidney smiled as she nodded her head. She figured it went without saying that she would help him with that. “Do you have somewhere for us to work, Fury?” She crossed her arms in front of her chest. 

“Agent Romanoff?” Fury called out. “Could you show Dr. Banner and Dr. Orwell to the laboratory?” 

At least she trusted Natasha enough to follow her.

“So what’s your specialty?” She didn’t expect Bruce to be one for friendly conversation and if anything this proved her right. He was trying to be nice, she could tell. It seemed like he hadn’t had a normal conversation in years. Sidney knew what that felt like a little too well.

“Astrophysics,” she sighed. “Kind of runs in the family,” she smiled as she brushed her hair from her eyes. 

The two of them were silent as Sidney began to busy herself. SHIELD’s technology was advanced past what the general population had access too but, thankfully, she had somewhat of a grasp on it. As her hands extended along the touch screen that hung in the middle of the room. 

“Are you one of them?” Bruce spoke up suddenly. Sidney’s dark eyes narrowed as she surveyed the man.

Sidney hated to say it, but she’d been asked that question many times. Maybe not in the same context but still. “A spy? Oh no, Bruce. I’m far too much of a talker to make a good spy.” She laughed at her own poor excuse for a joke. “I’m more of a quiet observer if anything.”

“Sounds a little like a spy to me,” Banner retorted. Sidney let out a small peal laughter. 

She dragged her fingers along the screen. All the humor disappeared from her expression as her face went pale. “What the hell,” she whispered as she tapped the screen again.

“What?” 

“Nothing,” Sidney shook her head as she gulped. 

“What the hell is that?” Bruce raised an eyebrow as he stepped closer. 

Sidney shook her head. “Nothing! I…I was just trying to see what they had on Loki and Thor. I guess I just ended up in the wrong section or something.”

“Why Thor?” Bruce frowned in confusion.

Sidney crossed her arms over her chest as she stared at the image on the screen. “Because they’re brothers. Haven’t you heard the stories?” She wasn’t surprised to hear that Bruce lacked knowledge in the Norse mythology department.

“So if you were looking for them, why-”

He trailed off as Sidney swiped the image off the screen and hurried from the room. The text on the screen was still burned into her mind’s eye. 

Alias: Sidney Orwell

Threat Level: Neutralized

There was no time to corner Fury as she intended to. No time for anything, in fact, as she stomped her way onto the bridge of the ship.

“We found him. 67% match. No…79% match!”

She couldn’t tear her eyes away from the image on the computer. He didn’t look quite as sick as he did in the photograph, but something still felt…off.

A chill went down her spine as Loki cast a brief glance at the security camera.

He knew they were watching him.

_________________

Hello friendos, here’s another chapter. I’m just out here tryin my best so feel free to give me any feedback. I really appreciate it! Let me know if you would want to be added to a taglist! Hope you continue to enjoy!

[nooneelsecomesclose17]

Though winds of change are blowing wild and free

Inspired by @softlass27 here's their first year on the run. Just a few little snippets of their life and the bumps along the way. I'm playing fast and loose with legalities over money and property etc so go with it. If Emmerdale can stick Harriet in a cellar for weeks and think it's good then I can do this.

(AO3 link)

Aaron yawned as he switched off the engine. He’d been driving for hours, putting as many miles between them and Emmerdale as he could. Robert had driven some of the way but he’d started to flag and on unfamiliar roads, Aaron hadn’t wanted to risk it so he’d taken over.

He looks over at him, still sleeping, head resting against the window. He still couldn’t quite believe what had happened in the past day and a half and just how much their lives were changed. It hadn’t felt like this the last time. He’d been running then, more from everything in the village and in his head than the actual charges he was facing. This time though, this time he’d been happy, they’d had a pretty perfect life in Emmerdale, and now, that was gone.

He truly hoped they could do it, that it wouldn’t break them. For all his words to Paddy the day before he couldn’t help but wonder. Had it been part of why he and Ed had broken up in the end, had it been there in the background making everything else worse until they’d just given up.

He and Robert weren’t him and Ed, he knew that, but he couldn’t bear to think of the two of them growing so far apart they can’t be fixed, not after everything.

Then again the alternative is prion, and Aaron’s not stupid, he knows Robert wouldn’t cope. Not that he’s not strong, he’s the strongest person Aaron knows, but prison gets inside you, eating at you from the inside out and Robert shouldn’t have to face that.

They’d make it work, they’d have to. There was no other choice.

“Hey sleepyhead. We’re here.” He loves watching Robert wake up, how he fights it, wanting to go back to the warmth of sleep and whatever dream he’s having, how he’ll take a deep breath before he finally opens his eyes, and smiling when he sees him. “You with me.”

“Yeah.” His voice is hoarse and he coughs a little as he looks up at the B&B they’d found online. “Looks ok.”

“Let’s get in and get some sleep then. We’ll sort everything else tomorrow.”

“Last chance.” He frowns, doesn’t know what he means. “To back out.”

“Never. Come on.” He’d tell him as many times as he needed. He wasn’t going anywhere.

Day 1

He’d laid awake most of the night, listening to Robert’s little snores, glad he was sleeping. Aaron had let him, part of him had enjoyed the peace, allowing him to get his thoughts in order. Everything had happened so fast he'd just done it all without thinking. Not that he was having second thoughts, not for a minute but there was so much to think about. They had to find somewhere to live, work, all sorts. He was pretty sure they'd be safe now as long as they kept their heads down but even so they'd be looking over their shoulders forever. They needed to make a list of everything they had to do. Maybe they should’ve done it the night before but after they'd checked in they'd just gone straight to sleep both too exhausted to do anything else.

He looks over at Robert, rubbing his eyes to wake himself up, the lazy smile when he sees him. Being with him was worth it. always would be. He shuffles closer needing him to know that he'd always be there, always by his side.

"You ok?" He still looks a little shell shocked by the whole thing and Aaron supposes that's normal. He has an advantage after doing this before he supposes.

Thankfully he hadn't asked about why he was so late getting to him but he would soon enough, and he didn't really want to get into it because Robert will just feel guilty and it's not him who has to feel that way.

"Yeah."

"So, What's first?"

“Breakfast.” He was starving. The last thing he’d eaten had been a pasty on the ferry that had frankly seen better days.

Later they’re staring up at a cottage that’s for rent in the next village to where they'd stayed the night. South of Paris, Aaron considered it isolated enough that they'd be safe. It wasn't anything near as grand as Mill, but it had everything they needed and it wouldn't cost the earth. In time they'd likely want something bigger, or need to move, but for now it was home.

“You like it?” He asks him, arm slipping round his waist.

“Yeah. We can make it home, can’t we?”

“Yeah. I’ll need to call Cain soon though. We’re going to need money. What we’ve got won’t last forever. He can send me everything I need to give him permission to sell the scrapyard.”

“What?”

“It’s not like I’m going back there is it? Should get a decent sum for it, business is good.” Robert looks disappointed, almost devastated at his words. “We’ll need the money Robert and you can hardly do anything with your part of the haulage firm right now.”

"You have money." Aaron frowns up at him because the last time he checked his bank account it hadn't been so healthy. "When I thought I'd be going down for GBH, I transferred the money we'd put by for surrogacy into your account."

“What?" He’d never said a word. How had he not noticed that Robert was quietly planning for not being there anymore.

"It felt like the right thing, and besides, then we were still thinking of going ahead. You would've needed it. You can get Cain to sort it, transfer it or whatever. Then he can send any profits from the scrapyard over, at least until we work out how much we’re going to need.”

"I...ok." It makes sense, he just hadn't connected it as his mind that their dream of another baby was over. "Yeah. Right I should go call, get things moving. I won't be long."

"Aaron, wait." He tries to shake the hand off his arm but Robert's stubborn, won't let go. “I shouldn’t have just blurted it out like that…I’m sorry.”

"What for?"

"Just one more thing I've ruined isn't it. Maybe if I hadn’t taken so long to decide to have a baby, or if we’d just gone ahead with it instead of trying to scam Graham, we might have our baby right now.” Maybe he’s right, but then again they could hardly have gone on the run with a newborn baby, which would mean he’d be in prison.

"No!" He breathes out, trying to stop tears falling at the thought. It'd just make Robert feel worse. "No...I just hadn't thought. It's fine. Really. Like you say it makes sense to hold onto the yard. Hey…it’s ok.”

"I don't want you looking back in a year and hating me." Robert's staring at the ground, hands fidgeting and this time it's Aaron who's holding on, holding his chin so he'll meet his gaze.

"I won't, Robert. I promise you I won't. Messed up forever, isn't that what you said once?" He nods, a hint of a smile.

"Now let’s have a look inside before we do anything. Then if we want it I’ll call Cain. We’ve got enough for a couple of months rent with us anyhow. But I’m telling you now, if there’s a spiral staircase in there, I’m out.”

“Oi, there was nothing wrong with that staircase!”

The inside is better than he could hope and even better that it’s available from that day and the next thing he knows they’re unloading what little they have from the car.

"Is that the last of it?" Robert asks from the kitchen where he’s checking what cooking bits and pieces they have.

“Yeah.” He looks around. It’s nice, he thinks they can turn it into home soon enough, but he feels lonely all of a sudden standing there in a strange house. “I should go and get some food, take a quick look around, just in case.”

“Hey, slow down. You don’t have to do everything right this minute. I nicked the tea out of the room we had, we can suffer it black for now.”

“Robert, stuff needs sorting.”

“And it will be, but you haven’t stopped since we got up this morning.”

“I need to make sure we’re safe Robert. We’re not on a bloody holiday!”

“Don’t you think I know that? But unless the police are around the corner I think you can take five minutes to sit and have a cuppa before you fall down. Now sit.”

“So it’s going to be like this now is it? Bossing me around?”

“Figured a change is as good as a rest.” He hands him a mug and he wraps his hands round it. "So, while we settle in are you going to tell me what happened when you went home? You’ve been suspiciously quiet about it all.”

"I told you, Cain took ages." He busies himself blowing on the hot drink, refusing to look his husband in the eye.

"Yeah, and like I told you I know that's a load of rubbish. What happened Aaron? Look, I won't be mad if you had second thoughts. I half expected you wouldn't turn up if I'm honest.” That makes him look up, then again he’d known that’s where his mind would go.

"What? No, that was... Rob that's so far off..." He sighs, putting the tea down before joining him on the sofa. "I'd got the passports already. I was at home getting our stuff. when Paddy turned up."

"Paddy. What did he want?"

"Basically to stop me leaving. An intervention if you like.” He shivers a little, thoughts of what if they’d succeeded crossing his mind.

"What did he do?" He's annoyed already, Aaron knows that tone, and he rests his hand over his, trying to calm him down.

"Locked me in, threw the keys in the waste disposal, then he and Liv spent the night telling me how awful you were, how wrong I was to be coming with you." He tells him everything, brushing away the tears when they start spilling from Robert's eyes.

“He did what?" It comes out in a growl and Aaron knows he's angry . He was, but now it's changed into sadness. Sadness that they'd rather lose him by pushing him away than respecting his decisions.

"I didn't listen not for a minute.”

"They thought it was ok to lock a grown man in his own house? Why the hell didn't you tell me before?"

"What would you have done? Gone back to Emmerdale and ripped Paddy a new one?” He already knows the answer which is precisely the reason he hadn’t said a word. As much fun it might’ve been to see it, it wasn’t worth the risk.

"Yes!"

"Which would've achieved what?"

"Would've made me feel a whole lot better." Aaron chuckles despite everything because the look on his face is exactly the same as Seb's when they had tried to feed him pureed carrots for the first time." And…I’d thought maybe…”

“Maybe what?" He asks when Robert stops, staring into space.

"Nothing."

"No go on.” He has a bad feeling about this, wants it all out in the open.

"When I was waiting...you were so long, and my mind was all over the place. I kept thinking that...I wanted you to be safe..."

“I am."

"Are you? If I'd...I thought that it might be easier to...I thought about handing myself in." He gets up shrugging off Aaron's hand. "I thought that at least if I did that while we were still in England I would know you were safe, that you'd have your family, that they'd look after you."

"You were going to leave me?” His voice cracks as he gets up to go to Robert. It’s not as though he didn’t think Robert would sacrifice himself for him, he already knows he would, but the knowledge that it had come that close because of his family left him cold.

"For your own good. You would've been with your family, they'd look after you and you'd get to have a life without looking over your shoulder."

"You really think that's how it would've gone? Even before I told you this? That they'd look after me?"

"Well obviously not now! But then, yeah. I’d spoken to your Mum, said she should keep an eye on you when I was away so yeah I thought she’d actually do it!”

"I didn’t know that. Blimey. Wish I’d been there to see it.” It does the trick and breaks the tension. “You’re wrong though.”

“Why?” He pulls him back to the sofa, holding him close.

"Shall I tell you how it would go...If you had taken notice of your conscience, which frankly needs better timing, and handed yourself in, left me…They'd be sympathetic, at first, then they'd start, little by little suggesting I have a night out, have some fun. Then my Mum, or Liv, probably both would point out any cute blokes that come into the pub. Then I'd end up going out with one of them to keep the peace. All the while they'd be running you down so I don't even feel I can mention you at all. It'd be like you never existed."

"Aaron, don’t.” He can hear the pain in his voice at the thought that his good deed would’ve end up that way, but he needs to know, if only so it puts the notion of doing something stupid out of his mind for good. “They might not…they’ve might’ve just been there for you.”

"No, you need to know. That's how it would be and you know how I know that? Because they've done it before. When we broke up, that's exactly what happened. So no, don't ever think I might be better off with them instead of you."

"I didn't know…well I knew your Mum and Paddy tolerated me, but even so, I always thought they’d wants what’s best for you, no matter what.”

“Maybe once they did, but I was thinking it over while I was driving last night, it’s not. It’s about what they want. It’s never been about what’s best for me, ever since Mum was dating Carl King. It’s always been about what she wants and I have to fit in with that. Sometimes she’s better but in the end it always goes back to the same thing. I’ve started to realise just how much I've done what they wanted over the years, taken the easy way out.”

“You?”

“Until I met you at least. Then again Mum did always say you were a bad influence on me.”

“Ta very much.”

“They’ve gone too far now though Rob, you know that. I’ll never forgive them for this. If I’d been just half an hour later…I would’ve lost you. It doesn’t bear thinking about. That’s why I want everything right, so we’re safe, so I don’t lose you.”

“Come here.” Robert wraps him up in his arms, strong and warm and he doesn’t ever want to be anywhere else. “Just one thing. How did you get out of the house?”

“Oh.” He scratches his beard, trying to keep the laughter in. “Bathroom window. You would’ve thought Paddy would’ve remembered that one after seeing you leg it, but no. Scarpered and left them locked in. I’ll have to remember to ask Cain how long it took ‘em to get out.”

Robert’s laughter is the most beautiful sound he’s heard in days.