#holden is so soft with amos

[kinetic-elaboration]

February 2: The Expanse 1x03

(Hi @she-who-the-river-could-not-hold @thisislavieboheme @kindclaws! Yes, I am watching The Expanse!!)

Back to The Expanse today after a 2-week hiatus. The hiatus wasn’t about giving up on it; it was just a scheduling thing. The break was not the greatest because I felt a bit like I was thrown into the deep end with the lore and plot and all the characters but I basically followed.

I think my favorite part of this episode was the part with the Ambassador to Mars, not because the UN storyline is my favorite—honestly it’s more like an exposition crutch, helping to give overall context from a more removed, birds’-eye-view—but because it really gave some interesting context to Mars. When ep 2 left off just before the boarding of the Martian ship, I was really excited to find out more about them. And then I was semi-disappointed: I guess miliary dictatorships are pretty dull, at least in terms of their overall aesthetic. They’re just… humans who wear black and stand really straight. (And have no testicles?? LMAO) But being able to contrast that very austere, very rigid, very dark military ship vibe with what the Ambassador describes of the planet itself was way more compelling: people with a common goal coming together to build a garden out of rock is like my fantasy for a utopian future (especially contrasted with ‘we paved over ours!’) and if I had heard that about Mars FIRST I would have a totally different expectation for the society. Honestly maybe that would have been more interesting. But hearing first and foremost that it’s a military dictatorship and being introduced to something of what that looks like simultaneously to getting this other information about the goals and appearance of the planet turns the story into something very different. And in a way none of it is surprising. Of course it’s a military dictatorship: a physically difficult task like creating a garden on Mars could probably most easily be accomplished through very rigid rules and structure and hierarchy. And the people who would sign up for such a task would be susceptible to falling into that sort of order. So that’s very interesting world building to me that I’d like to know more about.

I also liked the little mini-plot with the almost spy-like intrigue by Chrisjen. So much of the show is just really broad-based world building; there isn’t a lot that feels self-contained to any one episode, so that was nice.

The characters from the Canterbury are starting to get to me a little. I like Holden and I like Naomi—don’t love them but I enjoy them, they have potential—and I sort of have a soft spot for Amos-as-guard-dog and the sort of mystery about what his relationship with Naomi might be. But the other two? Meh. I feel like this group of five survivors should be better than it is… if you’re going to destroy the Canterbury in the first episode and also take out all of the other characters you’ve just started to develop, all in one twist at the end of the first hour, the people who are left and now have to carry this entire third of the show by themselves better be stellar. I just don’t feel like they are. Maybe I want something from them that they are not and were never intended to be, a sort of insta-found family thing, but I’m just not connecting with them. I could stand for the other two to be killed off, not gonna lie.

Currently, I don’t think Naomi is OPA but I sort of wish she was/hope she is… like, that would be the most interesting turn for the story to take, in my opinion. I feel like this might be the sort of statement I’ll regret putting down later for any number of reasons but I’m just saying—it’s my feeling right now. I do like that she is a confirmed Belter because it makes me feel smarter for recognizing her tattoo last week even though, like, that was probably supposed to be very obvious and not a secret clue or anything. I’d also like an explanation for her weird hand gesture during the interrogation. Much hay was made of it but I didn’t really get it.

I did like the Martian Captain a lot. First, love that she’s referred to as Sir (real “female crewman” vibes there). Adored her coffee mug. Totally taken in by her whole… her whole thing. The whole package. The only charismatic person on the planet honestly.

The Ceres story feels the most comfortable to me, I think because it’s Blade Runner-esque aesthetic is so familiar. Giant, overrun, poor, noir-ish, future city—this one in space! (I say this even the most obvious Blade Runner parallel in this episode specifically was the Mars ship interrogation.) Also the political unrest situation is a familiar narrative, with beats I can follow pretty easily. I like their transparent phones and iPads and stuff. I don’t actually think that kind of look is where technology will go—it doesn’t look very stable, and it’s already starting to become dated in a way not dissimilar to how Apple Store Enterprise in ST09 is dated—but future aesthetics reflect the tastes of the era in which they were made, and this is such a specific Shiny Futurism, very familiar to my era of sci fi, that I enjoy it. And it pairs interestingly with the dirty sci fi of the rest of the station.

I also liked the credits with the curfew announcement playing over them instead of music. On the one hand, I feel like that kind of trick is best for, like, real emotional outlier episodes, episodes when everything has changed and something devastating has happened, and I’m not sure that the death of the minor cop after 3 episodes really counts as that. I mean a whole ship blew up in 1x01, so let’s put it in proportion. But on the other hand, I think referencing that trick of using non-music credits as a sort of emotional emphasis helped to play up how ominous the curfew is. Otherwise, it sort of seems like just another step in the direction the narrative has been going in from the jump. But as it is, I’m left with this very eerie sense of, like, a turning point being reached in some way. We’ll see if that’s what actually happens, but that’s the mood for me right now.

[astrakofe]

@factiousfcrged asked, ' how long have i been asleep ? '

he'd lost himself, again, on the surface of ganymede. guilt was like a jilted lover haunting him in the middle of the night. holden hadn't had a decent night sleep since before eros and it was starting to take it's toll. everytime he closed his eyes he saw the sick and the dying, undulating bodies. the smell would wake him up sometimes, as if he were still there. one would assume it was the radiation the implant was trying to fend off in his body; that being on the brink of death would be the thing that his mind kept trying to fight.

but, no, it was the people.

during his time in the unn military he'd seen some things he wished he could forget. maybe he even made them worse in his own head because his family had been such conspiracy theorists where the government was concerned. but, he'd wanted to understand them. he'd thought that, maybe, if he understood what made the government tick he could better understand a way to help.

that was a lie.

amos had been awake and moving around when prax looked over the injury at his shoulder. when holden entered the medical bay to check in, the other man had been asleep. so, holden pulled a chair over and pulled up a book on his hand terminal. nothing but the soft hum of the air recycling, electricity, and the vibration of the reactor beneath their feet.

" few hours, maybe. " the captain flicks a finger at the terminal to look at the time. a tilt of his head reinforces the original estimation then switches back to his book. " something told me to be here when you woke up, " one shoulder lifts in a tired shrug. somnambulist checked in. they're still going strong. how about you? how're you feeling? "

[aeternals]

the smile was soft - small - and yet desiderius had to wonder if it spoke volumes for the man amos was proving to be. very straight forward. very...transactional. the smile was almost like a window to something he didn't imagine was shown very often and he felt a warmth in the pit of his stomach that had nothing to do with the looming activities.

since amos didn't shy away from the kiss in any fashion, desi allowed himself to keep touching. the words spoken out in the walkway repeat themselves in his mind like an assurance; if amos didn't want something to happen he would let it be known. still, desi didn't want to come across like bodies were the only thing on his mind. in reality, this conversation was consuming him.

" not on my watch, " he mumbles more to himself than anyone else. if anyone so much as tried to call amos anything worse than a science nerd in desi's presence he'd dig deep for that old military training. at the very least, he'd let his fists go swinging. this one needed love. perhaps not the type of love the greats wrote about or the type of love people sang about, but that protective love. someone to look out for him, love. as much as james holden gave him an odd feeling, desiderius believed the good captain did everything he could for his people. reports said nagata was close with amos, too. none of that deterred him from the idea that he would do whatever he could to see that ghost of a smile agaiin.

fingers drag down over amos's bottom lip, serving as a light home to bring him in for another kiss.

" i stumbled into this, too. " weight shifts from his feet to his hips. " the information part, not the art part. although, there was a period in my life i thought i was going to be stuck in a military career. " a chill rolls down his spine to illustrate his disdain. " which was a decision made to get away from my father and the church. " but was that too much information? if there was a decently good chance they never spoke again why bother getting down to the nitty gritty of this beautiful man?

because he'd wanted to make sure desi knew he wasn't for sale.

and that hit a button inside him.

" it's an interesting puzzle to figure out what makes people tick. what evokes something inside of them or what... " desi scrunches his nose. " what they like. "

“For what?” A brow slanted upwards, glancing again towards his host as Desi offers an apology. It wouldn’t be the first time he missed some sort of social cue or slight that passed over his hand or … under his radar or, whatever colloquial turn of phrase was most appropriate in the moment. “I don’t know jack shit about any of the others you talked about, ’s’ all.” His shoulders rose and fell in a lazy shrug. “Just the one, and, wouldn’t have thought about it ‘til you mentioned it. I guess I see the similarities, though, in terms of basic form and function. The body makes an echo chamber, of sorts, takes the vibrations from the strings, bounces them around to amplify them.”

A flicker of a smile, his gaze staying on Desi’s as he draws closer again, broad, scarred hands settling loose on the other man’s hips, light enough to be pulled away from, but snug enough to give him leverage to pull Desi closer, if he wanted to. “Yeah. I been called worse,” Amos said, with a low, half rumbling chuckle. He doesn’t shy away from Desi’s touch, remaining lounged against the back of the couch, the slightest tilt into the quiet kiss that’s offered. He wasn’t usually one for all the talking, like this, but – then again, not many people bothered trying, so. He didn’t see the harm in letting it play out. “I wouldn’t so much call it a callin’ as just.” He paused for a moment, trying to think of the right words, before shrugging again.

“Stumbled into it, mostly.” There was a lot more to the story of how he ended up in the engineering corp training, but that was not a story for the here and now. “Machines are easy.” A slight frown. No, that wasn’t quite right. “There’s a way they’re supposed to be. A thing they’re supposed to do. You look at enough of 'em, it’s not that hard to figure out what is and isn’t doing what it should be. And no matter how many moving parts there are, you keep doing it long enough, you keep working the problem, eventually it just. Works again.” Machines were a lot easier to understand than people. “Ships, engines, demolitions, guns - every design has a form, a function, a purpose. They make sense. I like that.”

[always-tilting-at-windmills]

[kinetic-elaboration]

September 25: The Expanse 2x13

As per usual, the only thing I really have to say to that is hmmmmm. I feel like I got many questions here, almost no answers. And this leaves me with no particular emotion. I just cannot keep the various characters and plotlines straight, honestly. Maybe if I understood better what I was watching, things would matter more, and I would be more emotionally invested.

So basically I am a little underwhelmed.

The Chrisjen and Bobbie story made the most sense/was the most straightforward, though I’ll be honest, I forgot just what Errinwright did, other than betray them, so yet again I was sort of following along with familiar beats rather than actually understanding. I’m glad Bobbie got to be a badass and I like that she and Chrisjen continue to bond. Much of the rest seemed to require remembering literally anything about this third guy, which I do not.

I think the little enemies to lovers story line in the C plot about the ship investing the Eros site was cute in a way. But it was all leading up to a completely incomprehensible climax. Maybe I’m just extra salty today because I’m so goddamn tired I can barely function but I’m tired of big reveals that are only big reveals of something weird, with hints of later explanation that…never really comes? Okay, they got too close to ground zero and then got… separated into their component parts and now they’re floating around like they’re elements in a Dali painting. Gotcha. And….?

The main story line was fine but felt underwhelming for a season climax honestly, especially compared to the last episodes of the first season or even the first episodes of this one. I think I underestimated whatever happened at the end of the last ep, since Holden seems very abruptly over whatever thing had caused him to be so annoying and one note for so many episodes. So I guess that story line is finished. There were the obligatory Season Finale Soft Character moments, and that’s also fine.

I feel like it’s been too many episodes since we were introduced to the hybrid alien thing and we still don’t have much information on it. Did we really learn anything in this ep? It eats radiation, I guess. I’m intrigued by the idea that it is partially a human child but not convinced that is the case, partially because of the ending of the ep, partially because too many people have said it too explicitly and I feel like this is the set up for a twist, and partly because of that last scene with Mei and Strickland (speaking of which, cool visuals, but again, I’m tired of getting drips of information. No more cliffhangers until you answer some questions for real!)

I still think Prax/Amos/Alex are the true OT3 here and also the true MVPs. Very cute how Amos wants to make his own decisions and not just be the muscle of whoever he’s loyalist too. Also—was that whole pod person story line he had for 1.5 episodes like a sleeper story that will come back up or just a weird interlude? There’s a part of me that’s like ‘it’ll all come together eventually and be really intricate and beautiful’ but the increasingly big part is like ‘there’s too much left hanging out for that to be possible, it’s just kind of sloppy I think?’ But I’m willing to be proven wrong.

Anyway, I liked Prax saving the day and Alex going full Scotty in his love for the Enterprise, I mean Roci.

I don’t think we see enough of Holden and Naomi’s relationship, like as a real distinct thing, for me to care about it tbh. And her ‘betrayal’ at the end was pulling from storylines way too far back…. I simply do not recall enough for this to hit. And I found her speech about the inevitability of war pretty generic. I liked how this show started on the Belt and really did good worldbuilding around it. Pretty much all of that has dropped off by this point… or gone on an extended hiatus, I think in part because Mars came so sharply into focus after being blurry in the background for so long.

I sound really down about this but it’s just because I hurt all over and I’m sooooooooooo tired. Like I don’t know man. We’re through 2 full seasons. I wish this show explained itself way better.

[babybubastis]

The Objective: A short “tag game” to find out a little bit more about yourself. Then tag nine more tumblrs you want to know a little better. This is all meant for fun 💕

———

Thank you @palettesofrenaissance so much for tagging me! It means a lot 💜 (I’m SO sorry I’m so late 🙈 Time truly just slips away from me)

1. Favorite piece of clothing you own? This long-sleeved, burgundy bodysuit with a plunging neckline that I got from Express a few years ago.

2. Your comfort food? It’s a tie between mac and cheese, and sweet potatoes lol

3. Favorite time of year? Summer, because I love to be out on the lake, and I love denim cutoffs. Also, Christmastime.

4. Favorite song? I don’t think I have a favorite song, but I’m really feeling “Woah” by Snoh Aalegra lately. Also, I’m completely obsessed with Afrobeats, so pretty much any song in that genre makes me happy. “Down” by Chop Daily is at the top of my playlist right now.

5. Do you collect anything? Comic books. I collect a little bit of everything from several different publishers, old and new, but my most prized comics are my collection of Uncanny X-Men books from Giant Size issue #1 (1975) all the way through #280. I also collect rings and kawaii hair accessories.

6. Favorite drink? Ginger tea with honey and cinnamon. Amazing.

7. Favorite fanfic (if you’re comfortable)? Oh, soooo many, I can’t choose one. I guess I’ll just pick one of my favorites from each of my favorite ships to try and make it balanced? This list feels like such an injustice because this is nowhere near representative of all the authors and fics that I hold dear to my heart.

Literally anything by @lilithenaltum, but especially her entire Both Hearts Beat Like a Metronome series. It’s gorgeous. (Shuri/Bucky)

The Physical World and Our Place in It series by @palettesofrenaissance (Sarah Wilson/Bucky Barnes, among other pairings)

Room for Three by @and-they-were-crewmates (Naomi Nagata/Jim Holden/Amos Burton)

The Quandry of Moral Ambiguity by AstroHawthorne (Mel Medarda/Jayce Tallis)

hymns to heal a broken heart by @canumoveurseatup-no (Stucky/black!female!reader)

Show You the Light by Nocturne1980 (Shuri/Loki)

True Care by Marvel_Obsessed_Maven (Shuri/Steve Rogers)

push the body into soft flesh, and release by kitdaumlers (SamBucky)

The Reunion by @siancore and @thematsaidwelcome79 (Rick Grimes/Michonne)

Giving Thanks by theheadandthekin (Ichabbie)

Tagging all of my mutuals because y’all are amazing and I love you ❤️

[factiousfcrged]

Why? That was a good question. It was a question he didn't have an answer for. Why was he sorry. What was he sorry for. For letting her get dragged into all this mess? For not convincing Holden to leave her on Tycho after the first time she'd snuck on board, convinced she had to go find her dad on Ganymede? For giving her the notion that he could ever give her anything more than this? Nights, filled with blood and pain and tears, and days filled with death slugs, and protomolecule monsters and danger, and hunger, and filth, and misery? She deserved better than anything this ship, this crew, or he could give her, so why? Why was he sorry?

Too many reasons to count.

I love you, Timmy. But I'm not a righteous person.

Lydia had given him a second chance at life. She'd taught him how to find the light, the north star to guide him from the ache, from the hollow, the darkness in his chest. He'd made a decision. He'd made a choice. To keep his promise, to Wei, to Murtry. For Wei. For the Belters. For Lucia. He'd never been good at making choices. I love you. Blood streaked her skin where he'd touched her. The thing that burrowed into his chest ached. Nothing's going to change that. Run. Run away, far away.

Don't go.

The ache in his chest feels worse than all of the other pains, combined. One hand settles on hers, his other arm caught, draped around Alex's shoulder as he tried to pull himself up to his feet. It's an awkward, stilted dance, as they help him negotiated, limp his way into the infirmary. A curtain has been pulled around the med station where, he can only assume, Murtry is recuperating. Amos doesn't bother to pay it any attention. It takes only a few minutes for Naomi and the others to get him situated, to get an arm into the autodoc sleeve, to get the hoses and needles and pumps in place. They've all been through this before. His eyes don't leave her, until the soft hiss of the medications injected into him pull his consciousness away, and even then, his fingers, bloody and broken, remain latched onto hers with what little strength he has left as his world fades to black.

times like this made her wish she'd followed in her father's foot steps. unfortunately, this, all this, made her queasy. blood was not something she preferred to deal with. although cleaning up after amos did nothing but make her heart heavy. one blessing, she supposes. cleaning up didn't do anything for his pain, though. pain she is more and more certain is the result from internal injuries, even before he'd spat blood on the floor.

new tears flow but these are purely frustration. down on the surface she'd felt more than useless. here and now she'd felt more of the same. originally, she'd begged holden to let her come along so she could try writing about the new world, the gates, transformation, and new chances. a lot of people started to know her for her roci inspirations and, honestly, halston was okay with that. the crew was beautiful and brave. in her opinion, there were no better muses.

" i'm glad, " halston leans down to kiss the tip of amos's index finger because it was the only place she could think of that might not hurt. another lands on his thumb. once she raises her head back up, though, she can't help but frown. sleep has nothing to do with anything and, honestly, halston isn't sure what to say to that. she'd much rather be awake and at his side than asleep and not knowing he was hurting.

" why? " the singer leans into the touch at her jaw. " i love you. nothing's going to change that. " not really part of the question but her heart told her it was an important thing to say in the moment. perhaps the way he apologized even though he knew in his heart beating murtry into the ground was the right thing to do. according to amos logic, that is. since they'd landed? that worked for her logic, too.

before she can say anything else alex comes back with nothing in his hands but the quiet offer to lead amos to the medical bay. hopefully, that meant murtry was asleep and in no condition to piss anyone else off. halston quickly leans down to sop up the drying puddle of blood in between his feet just so he doesn't slip on it when he stands. there's streaks when she pulls the tower away but it's something they can deal with later. her empty hand reaches out to see if he'd take it. " i know i'm a lot shorter but you can lean on me if you need to. "

[always-tilting-at-windmills]

Season 4 tidal wave 🌊 of feels

[princessamericachavez]

I want everyone currently watching the Expanse to be aware that the book this season is based on (the 5th on the series) is the first one where we get Amos/Alex/Naomi POV chapters and that during their time apart they kept:

1. Downright yearning for their Roci family. So much longing. So much referring to the others as family and counting the seconds to return.

2. Doing everything in their power to get back to the others as the world falls apart.

3. Worrying about the others being alright during the chaos and trying desperately to contact each other, make sure everyone is alive and help/save each other however they can even at great personal risk. Holden has a especially hard time worrying about Amos (he convinced himself he HAS to have survived because, well, he is Amos) and trying his damn best to respect Naomi’s space (in the book he doesn’t know about Marco or Philip yet so all he knows is she left on personal business and he is a respectful king who is worried out of his mind and just waiting for her to text :( until the angst of her captivity finally reaches him)

4. Constantly, when in doubt or a particularly complicated situation, asking themselves “What would X do?”. (And this is my favorite thing, alright). Like, Amos tries to imagine Naomi’s advice when he needs empathy and Holden’s when he needs a moral compass. Alex keeps trying to be as apparently self assured as Holden and as brave as Amos. Naomi mentally tells herself what Amos would say during her captivity to help her keep a cool head and survive. Holden keeps longing for everyone’s grounding presence and warmth. They are so ingrained into each other’s lives that even at a distance they keep trying to conjure that support when the world is falling apart.

Anyway. If you haven’t read this books, you definitely should because all the found family feels are dialed up a million percent. This disasters (Holden most of all) are soft dorks whose inner monologue at least 60% of the time is “god, I love my friends more than anything in this universe.”

[tangledstarlight]

Ok ok ok I was so in love with your florist idea so I gotta ask

Bodyguard AU + sharing a bed

This is like, a modern/present day au. Where instead of just running away from Marco, Naomi fights back from the start. She starts laying the ground work for his little gang to fall apart when she's ready to leave. She bides her time and waits until she's done all she can, and then she grabs Filip and she runs. She finds out through whispers and local news sources that Marco Inaros' growing empire has began to crumble and thinks she's safe.

She finds out the hard way 6 months later that she causes some destruction, not enough because he had managed to hold on to his inner circle and a few of the less people in the gang and was rebuilding, with his first point of call being getting back his son and killing Naomi. So she does the only thing she can think of, she grabs her son and goes on the run. It's a few weeks later, when she's exhausted and running low on money that she stumbles into a coffee shop and bumps into Holden and Amos who are trying to avoid attention.

Neither group acknowledge each other until two men come through the doors, scanning the shop until they land on Naomi and Filip trying to hide in a booth at the back and start walking towards them. It's Amos who spots one of the men has a fun at his hip and he just watches, waiting to see what's about to happen, and Holden knows his tells –– head slightly tilted and brows a little bit raised and fingers tapping on the table –– so he turns to see what's caught his friends attention. And well, Holden would step up to help anyone who was in trouble or danger, and Amos has a soft spot for helping kids that he didn't learn from his friend. So the boys step in to help just as one of the men are pulling free their gun.

There's a fight that ends with two men on the ground, Amos with bruised knuckles and Holden with a split lip and offering his hand to Naomi so they can run. It's sort of an unsaid agreement that they're sticking together after Naomi manages to fix their car when it stalls 30 mins outside of the first town and little Filip makes Amos laugh. They all get into the habit of sharing a room or a bed whenever they find somewhere to stay for the night and it's just 'business' nothing personal, because that's Naomi's one rule. No feelings, no getting attached, no thinking further then a day ahead.

Of course Holden immediately gets attached. Because that man is all heart and doesn't know how to not follow it. And it only gets worse on the nights when he ends up in bed with Naomi, when somehow in dark she ends up with her head on his chest and his arms around her, cold feet tangled together and accidentally lips brushing morning kisses to foreheads.

Somehow they sort our the Marco issue with team work and a hell of a fight, and the four of them end up at like some run down house in the middle of a wood or something where they set up some kind of repair/custom built furniture/coffee combo shop and Filip grows up with 3 very different parental figures and they all live happily ever after😌

hope you like it!! and thank you for sending one!💜

send me two and i'll come up with a fic!

[zmediaoutlet]

in support of Black Lives Matter, @winchestersinthedrift donated $50, and requested Amos/Alex, panty!kink. Thank you for donating!

to get your own personalized fic, please see this post. (no longer taking prompts)

It starts with them getting drunk. Well. No. Alex tries to be honest with himself. It starts with Holden, being an absolute dumbshit, and logging that distress call, and getting their whole crew killed and sending them off on this damn-fool goosechase across the solar system.

“If that’s how far you’re going back,” Amos says, “then you should blame whoever attacked the ship in the first place.”

“Oh, I do,” Alex says. He slumps further into the booth, gets his boots braced on the opposite side. Amos looks at his feet, looks back up with raised eyebrows. “I blame everybody. Mars for shooting us up. The United Nations for starting the cold war. You.”

“What did I do?” Amos says.

“I’m sure you’ll think of something.” Amos stares at him, that flat calm stare that usually precedes some kind of ass-whooping, but Alex shrugs him off, looks at his glass. Empty. He puts two and two together. “I’m drunk.”

“You’re not that drunk.” Amos nods at a guy practically falling asleep against the high-top next to their booth. “He’s drunk. And he’s going to get mugged by--” he nods just behind Alex’s field of vision “--that chick. Probably in the next fifteen minutes.”

Alex could look but it seems like a lot of work. “You’re the expert, huh,” he says, and Amos shrugs. “You know, we spent--how many months, on the Canterbury? Working together. And I don’t think I learned two things about you, and now I know all sorts. Grew up in a brothel. Kind to whores. Who knew.”

Amos finishes his beer, places it down on the table very precisely back into the ring of condensation it made. “Whores are good people,” he says, and it’s in that Amos way where Alex knows if you disagree you might get a punch that rocks your head. “You should be kind to good people.”

“That what you should do,” Alex says, and he kinda means to say it as a question but he loses it, halfway. He scrunches his eyes closed, shakes his head. He’s not that drunk but he is fuzzy, and talking about his wife earlier--he pushes off the edge of Amos’s seat, struggles upright. They should probably go back--but then no. They’re mad at Holden. They should--get some sleep. But then-- “I don’t want to sleep.” He opens his eyes, and Amos is looking at him. Looks thoughtful.

“Me either,” Amos says. Another whore brushes up near them--a woman this time, hair some violent unnatural shade of red. Thin, like Belters are, and a watchful look in her eye. She smiles, inviting, and Amos looks at Alex for a few more seconds before he tips his head up at her. “Hey. We’re not buying, but we’re gonna want a private room. You guys got an entertainment suite?”

*

Suite means, in this case, a lounge with not enough light, and couches clearly built with sex in mind, and storage at the back with things Alex isn’t sure he wants to picture. “This standard?” he says, holding onto a pole that goes floor-to-ceiling with a crooked arm, and Amos gives him another look.

“Have you seriously never been in a whorehouse?” Amos says. He slides his hand over the back of one of the couches, inspecting. Professional, Alex guesses. “Been long enough, being on the Canterbury. I’m sure your wife wouldn’t mind.”

“Asshole,” Alex says. Amos shrugs. It does hit, somewhere in his chest. Dulled a little, by time, and booze, and being honest earlier at the bar. His wife. It has been a long time, and he wonders. She might’ve moved on. He hopes she has. He takes a few gulps of the synthetic rum, feels nothing but warm. The music from downstairs thumps up through the floor, bassy vibration coming up through his boots. “What about you, then? If you’re so happy about it. You pay for a warm bed, whenever we’re in port?”

“Not usually.” Calm, flat. Alex shakes his head. How’s the bastard always so calm. Even when he’s laying people out. Amos goes to the back of the room, red light flashing off the dull of his jumpsuit, opens up the storage. He turns a grin back on Alex. “So you’re new to this kind of thing? Want to see?”

Alex lets go of the pole, slumps down to the couch beside it. “See what,” he says, wondering more what Amos might possibly find interesting in here, and he drops his drink in the next second when a coil of plastic’s thrown his way. He cusses, laments the rum. “Asshole!” he says, again, and scrubs at the wet stain on his leg, and shoves at the plastic with his other hand. No--not plastic, some kind of--synthetic, and it uncoils and it’s-- “Is that a whip?” he says.

“Got a cat, if you’d rather,” Amos says, cheerful, and waves over his head--lord-o-mercy, a cat o’nine, like this is a pirate ship in a story. Amos drops it, hums. Sounds impressed as he says, “They’re pretty stocked.” A dildo, long and red--that, Alex knows, from gifting one to his wife first time he was going to take a long haul. She didn’t laugh. Amos pulls out a gag, then, and then a--corset? “This is a good establishment,” Amos says. “Guess Fred Johnson lets them do good work. Good to know.”

Alex is staring at the dildo dropped onto the thin rug when Amos stands up. Something white, subtly shining, in his hand. “How’s this proof of good work, again?” he says.

Amos looks at him like he’s simple. “They can afford this stuff,” he says, gesturing at the toy closet. “Means they’re not getting shaken down for bribes. Means they can treat their people right. My place--that first place, anyway--wasn’t like that.”

Alex blinks, tries to focus. Something yawning there, in the darkness behind that sentence. The first place. He grew up, Alex remembers, in places like these, and he sits up, ignores the way his head sways. Amos is sitting on the couch on the other side of the room, unlacing his boots. “Hey,” Alex says, trying. “If--I mean, it’s not my business. If you want to talk.”

Boots off, standing up. Amos frowns at him. “Why would I want to talk,” he says, and unzips his jumpsuit, and it drops lazy around his hips--and then off--and below he’s got on--a tee, sweaty cotton, and--nothing else, and Alex’s caught, staring. Amos shrugs out of the tee in a roll of muscle, stands there bare in the red light, and then turns and steps into--white--what he took out of the closet, oh, they’re--panties, soft and impractical, things Mars never bothered with, things Alex has only seen in seedy porno vids. Amos slides them on with every apparent comfort, hiding away his big dick and his nuts, and he slips his fingers along the seams and waistband, looking down. Looking pleased. “Good fit,” he says, smiling. “Man. This takes me back.”

Alex stares. It’s rude and there’s no damned way he could help it. Amos is built like an anatomy model, cut and strong, his pecs swelling and his abs tight. His ass, full and high and rising in those panties like something you only dream about, on lonely nights. “Back where?” Alex says, but Amos comes closer, utterly comfortable, and looks down at him on his couch. Alex swallows, even if his mouth’s abruptly dry. He wishes he had another drink.

“I know you’re not into the whole whore thing,” Amos says, matter-of-fact. He props his fists on his hips. This close it’s hard to look anywhere that’s not--at all of that. “We should fuck.”

Alex stares up at him. “What brings you to that conclusion?”

“You saying you don’t want to?” Amos says, and gets a fist into the open v of Alex’s uniform and drags him up to his feet in a sheer haul of muscle, strong as strong. Alex stumbles, fetches up against Amos’s bulk, and Amos--is easy, with him. A broad hand on his waist, another on his shoulder, keeping him steady. A plain calm look, right in the eyes. “I’m good at this. You’re hot. We need to blow off steam and we’ve got the night to kill. I haven’t fucked in a while. And--” he slides his hand up Alex’s shoulder, grips the side of his neck. Looks back and forth between his eyes. “I grew up in a place like this. I know.”

This close, Amos smells like--sweat. Like the whiskey and beer he was drinking, earlier. Like--something soft. Alex looks down, sees the shape of him. Big dick, and heavy nuts, and the swell of them inside the panties. “Why?” he says, trusting Amos will know what he means in that way that Amos just seems to--cut through any bullshit. Get to the heart of the matter.

“I grew up in a place like this,” Amos says, softer, and he takes Alex’s hand in his bigger one and drags his fingers down the cut of Amos’s abs, down to the low curve of his stomach, down to the satiny-soft fabric--slick, and rich, and Alex’s hand shifts like it’s on autopilot and curves down, holding the swell of Amos’s nuts in his palm, curving back, feeling the sweetness there. Swelling, in his hand, and he tips his head down, his forehead against Amos’s collarbone, squeezes gentle and feels the slick of the satin warm and tight against his hand. Hell if it ain’t the sweetest, tensest thing. He feels like a line of heat’s been spooled between the base of his neck and his own nuts, snagging him there like a caught thing. All that muscle, and strength, and the panties cutting right across it but not changing a single thing about how Amos could kill him right now, with a hand on his neck. He breathes shaky against Amos’s chest. Maybe he does know. What men want, in a place like this.

“I like to fuck,” Amos says, quiet. He squeezes the back of Alex’s neck, soft. “But you can fuck me if you want. Done it a bunch. I don’t mind either way.”

Alex slides his fingers, hooks under the seam. Feels the wiry curl of pubes, the softer skin. His mouth waters. “Either way,” he says, and lifts his chin. Amos is watching him, calmer than calm. “You leave this on. You hear?”

Amos smiles at him. A beat of quiet. “I hear,” he says, easy, and then in a surge of muscle he bears Alex back onto the couch, and Alex gives himself up to better things.

[always-tilting-at-windmills]

Season 4 👀❤️‍🩹‼️

Season 5 💥💥💥🤯🤯🤯🤯

So I mentioned in the tags in a previous post how much the trust grew between (Captain) Holden & Amos in season 3. Which wasn't exactly correct because it really picked up between them with the last ep of season 2 when Holden & Amos talks over the last resort of ep 13 which is killing Holden. Amos being Amos never shies from the truth & is honest in promising he'll kill him. But he also expresses what I read as regret if it comes to that because "Holden's always trying to be a good man" & it's been nice being on the good side of things for once.

And then in season 3 Miller shows up & Holden's acting hella weird & there's a whole thing where Amos offers to listen if Holden wants to vent.

And I had such a hard time finding gifs for this but I love that Holden's reply here is "that's [not being judgy] a good quality to have".

And Amos knows Cap's not ok, I love what that says about good he's become at reading Cap & emotions isn't Amos forte.

And then later when Holden asks straight out for Amos to trust him in what seems like an impossible situation. And he does. Straight up believes in his captain. And I just love to see where they're at. And what this whole season means for season 4 when Amos & Holden basically becomes a duo where it's so necessary to have that trust without the rest of the Roci fam as filters.

I just, I love them. God I want all the fic in where this builds to letting Amos become a triad with Holden & Naomi. And in my dreams where Holden & Amos holds down the fort on Roci while Naomi's visiting her wife Drummer. I just want everyone to be happy. Except Marco, he can die in a fire.

[presidentlauraroslin]

Drabble prompts: 23. “I immediately regret this decision.” Amos/Chrisjen OR 34. “Are you testing me?” Chrisjen/Nancy Gao OR 76. “I wouldn’t change a thing about you.” Bobbie/Chrisjen OR 99. “Don’t look at me like that.” Gerri/Roman if you're feeling adventurous

So I basically did all of them, except Gerri/Roman, because, oh boy, I am not confident in enough in my writing to tackle that. So pairings are:- Chrisjen/Nancy- Amos/Chrisjen (Rated E)- Bobbie/Chrisjen

34. “Are you testing me?”Chrisjen/Nancy Gao

“Why do you want this?” Chrisjensipped her gin-tonic and tilted her head. She knew she shouldn’t have done this,cleared the venue where Nancy was about to hold some campaign event, but witheverything going on in the campaign, and mostly outside of it, she hadn’t had achance to talk to Nancy and something in her, had pushed her to do this. Totalk. To break with all informal rules and basically disrupt Nancy’s campaign.Just like she had expected, Nancy wasn’t shocked or impressed, almost as if shehad known this would happen sooner or later.

“Why do you? You never wanted it inthe first place.” Nancy crossed her long legs, hands folded in her lap. On theoutside she looked calm, but the fact that she had just answered Chrisjen’squestion with another question told her that she wasn’t feeling certain, notsure of Chrisjen’s motivations to be there. Chrisjen couldn’t blame her for thesuspicion. It hadn’t exactly been a clean battle up until now.

“Because I will do anything toprevent the end of humanity, even if I have to do shitty job until the day Idie.” Something she sincerely hoped wouldn’t be necessary. She hadn’t ever consideredretirement, but the prospect of doing this job for a decade or more might causeher to seriously think about getting out of politics.

She just wouldn’t be able to forgiveherself if the protomolecule reared its ugly head again and she could have preventedit.  

“And I will do my best to give thepeople of Earth a chance at a better future. A chance to get off basics, to geta job, to do something other than wait for an opportunity.” Chrisjen smiled andshook her head, downing the rest of her drink. Nancy’s lips thinned. “You don’tbelieve me.”

“I do, that’s the fucking problem.” Sheknew Nancy wanted the best for the people of Earth and once upon a time,Chrisjen had wanted that too. Her focus had shifted however, to wanting toprotect the entirety of humanity. An impossible task that she had imposed uponherself and Holden, though how much he was aware of that, she didn’t know. “I knowthat you believe the Ring gate is our best option for the future. If theprotomolecule didn’t scare the shit out of me, I’d maybe agree with you. So Iwill fight you, to the bitter end, even though I think you could make aformidable Secretary-General. If we didn’t disagree so fundamentally, I’d bemaking sure you won.”

It wasn’t a lie. She had always seenNancy as a possible Secretary-General, would probably have pushed her forwardas a candidate to run against Sorento-Gillis, if the coward hadn’t slinked offat the first sign of trouble without any of his advisors around. But Nancy’sexpression had hardened, her hands tense in her lap. “What is this? What areyou doing? Are you testing me? See if I respond in a way that gives you aweakness you can exploit?”

“No, hard is that is to believe.”Slowly she stood up, straightening her clothes. Nancy looked as if she wantedto stand up as well, use her height to her advantage, but she remained seated.Chrisjen gave her a small smile. “I don’t like what you stand for, but I likeyou. You’re young, smart, ambitious, not a some castrated bobblehead likeSorento-Gillis. This is me saying I wish the situation could be fucking different.”

“Thank you. I wish the situation weredifferent too. Not the Ring gate. I wish it wasn’t you I were running against.”Chrisjen gently squeezed her shoulder when she walked past her and swept out ofthe hall. It was time to return to reality, being opponents once again. Asingle election decisive in what would be the future of humanity. What a fuckingmess.

23. “I immediately regret thisdecision.” Amos/Chrisjen

Chrisjen groaned out a quiet fuck asshe sank down on him, thanking whatever fucking god she had prayed to that morningthat she had some lube on her. Even with the orgasm he had already given her, shehad been no where near wet enough to take him or anyone really, and JesusChrist, did she need this.

His hands were on her hips and shehad the urge to pull them away, pin them beside his head. She didn’t mind himtouching her, obviously, but Amos, even with highly inappropriate comments andhis interest in whatever she was wearing, had something dangerous about him.She had seen men like him before, men who knew no fear, who had seen it allbefore and weren’t fazed by anything. He could hurt her so easily, if he wantedto.

Maybe that’s why she find herselfwith his cock inside her, her nails digging into his chest as she rolled herhips. He had something nobody she had ever fucked had had. And it just feltgood to have someone she could fuck and it wouldn’t bring her any difficulties.Being the goddamn Secretary-General had severely limited her options of sleepingwith people other than her husband. Amos had been easy, convenient, clearlyinterested in her and his mouth was more talented that she had expected. She’dbe feeling the chafe of his beard on the inside of her thighs for days.

“Come on, Chrissie. You can do betterthan that.” He squeezed her hips and then had the fucking gall to smack herass, not hard, but she narrowed her eyes anyway, digging her nails in a littleharder.

“Fuck you, Burton,” she spat at him.His eyes closed for a moment, a moanfalling from his lips. It didn’t deter him for long, the look in his eyes fartoo mischievous when he opened them again. 

“I thought you were.” He thrust upinto her, his hands holding her hips and ass tight enough that she wouldn’t besurprised if she found some bruises tomorrow. He looked so incredibly smug, theasshole, she resisted the urge to hurl another insult at him, knowing it wouldprobably only spur him on. He had never made a secret of liking her choice oflanguage. It also didn’t help she could still see the evidence of him eatingher pussy in his beard.

“I immediately regret this decision,”Chrisjen muttered, without any venom, although she really did want to slap himfor calling her Chrissie while being inside her, and Amos chuckled, squeezingher ass a little tighter. They had their rhythm now, it wasn’t soft or sweet,and she hadn’t wanted that either. She wanted to feel fucked and he seemed toget that, his thumb seeking out her clit, as she moved on his cock. She moaned,clenching around him, determined to make him come as well.

“You’re not the first person to saythat to me.” He was starting to sound a little breathless and she smirked, eventhough he was fucking good at getting her off as well, circling her clit like agoddamn pro. Chrisjen clenched her jaw, trying to hold off, but he really wastoo good at this. She was well aware of the fact that she was panting, her hairhaving come undone, her nipples still aching from when he had sunk his teethinto them.

“Probably not the fucking last either,”she replied. Whatever smart retort he had ready, he never managed to say it asraked her nails down his chest and arched her back, letting this absolute brickof a man with the subtlety of a nuke to the face make her come again. She bitback a cry as her legs trembled and her knees ached. He didn’t stop moving histhumb, not even when he let out a groan and followed her over the edge.

She looked down at him, letting thelast waves of her orgasm wash over her as she pushed his hand away from herpussy. He had his eyes closed, biting his bottom lip, muscles in his chest andarms tense. Ridiculous how easily he could snap her in half if he wanted to. Shedidn’t think she had ever fucked with someone quite as built as he was. Therewas definitely something in riding a man like that, making him come.

He opened his eyes and grinned ather. “Goddamn Chrissie.”

This time she did lightly slap hischest, where the red lines her nails had left behind stood out against hisskin. “Don’t fucking call me that.”

76. “I wouldn’t change a thing aboutyou.” Bobbie/Chrisjen

Bobbie sighed and leaned back intothe way too comfortable sofa that was situated in the luxury that was Chrisjen’sLuna home. She had seen her house on Earth. It was hard to believe some peoplewere rich enough to own two enormous houses while some people wasted away onbasic, a topic she had learned not to bring up, didn’t even want to bring upright now. She just felt tired and was glad to have a place away from the messon Mars to relax.

“Drink. You look like you fuckingneed it.” Chrisjen waved a glass of scotch in front of her and Bobbie took iteven if she wasn’t much of scotch drinker. It was liquor and with Chrisjen,sitting down next to her, her skin so warm and soft against her own, it wasenough to settle some of the thoughts racing through her mind. Not enough to getrid of the weight resting heavily on her shoulders.

“I’m a fuck-up,” she said after alarge sip of the nicest scotch she had ever had. Chrisjen scoffed and leanedcloser to her, her head resting on Bobbie’s shoulder. Bobbie looked down ather, the inky black hair, the expression on her face soft, her fatigue showingwithout any makeup to hide it. The nightgown was new, at least Bobbie thought so.The woman probably owned on in ever color of the rainbow.

“If you’re a fuck-up, then what am I?Lost an election that should have been easy, caused the death of twelve marinesand a few dozen Belters, and oh, failed to stop a fucking goldrush that will atbest, empty the sol system, and at worst wake up some alien threat that willwipe out humanity.” Bobbie smiled and rested her cheek on top of Chrisjen’shead.

“You’re a colossal fuck-up.” Chrisjenlet out a short laugh, placing a hand on Bobbie’s forearm. Bobbie wanted sobadly to feel better, but Esai’s face, the Belter tattoos, the air rushing outaround her, it was all burned into her memory and she couldn’t shake the overwhelmingfeeling of guilt that joined the images. “I should have done something. Anything. Ishould have tried harder to stop it.”

“It’s not your fault, Bobbie. Therewere a lot of moving pieces and if Belters managed to sway part of the Martianmilitary, you couldn’t have stopped it. Fuck, I probably couldn’t have stoppedit. We’ll be lucky if the two of us can figure out what the fuck is going on.”

“I should have been better. The dreamof Mars is going to shit and I’m following close behind. Or maybe leading thecharge. Who knows.” She watched how her fingers absentmindedly played with therim of her glass. She wasn’t the type to be self-chastising, but then again,she had changed a lot. And she needed to put this feeling of helplessness somewhere.Chrisjen sighed and plucked the glass from her hand, putting it on the table,her fingers underneath Bobbie’s chin.

“Bobbie look at me. We all makemistakes. We’re human, we’re not perfect. You’re not perfect, god knows I’m notfucking perfect. But I wouldn’t change a thing about you.” There wasn’t a liein Chrisjen’s dark eyes and Bobbie smiled, albeit a little sadly. Chrisjenreturned it and leaned in to press a soft kiss against her lips. “So stop weighingyourself down. Without you, I wouldn’t know that the Belters were up tosomething. Now, we can figure what. Together.”

Bobbie traced her thumb over Chrisjen’scheekbone and stole another kiss, making a little slower this time. “I’m stilla fuck-up.”

“We’ll be fuck-ups together.” Chrisjenunceremoniously dropped her tumbler back in her hands, the liquor nearly sloshingover the rim. “Finish your scotch. I’m tired and I’d like to go to sleep withyou next to me.”

[navilluswrites]

I Have Loved The Stars, Chapter 4 Amos Burton x OC

Their arrival to the space station was terrifying, to say the least.

She sat alone, strapped into a seat, in full spacesuit, in the med bay while the Roci had gone to battle with a stealth ship. Several bullets cut through the ship and she wondered exactly how expendable to Fred Johnson she was. When the fighting ceased, a few moments later she could hear Alex over the radio, "you okay down there little lady?"

August swallowed down the bile that was trying to escape her body. "Yup, how about you all?"

"We're all okay...lost a pod though. Amos got knocked around a bit so if you could make sure he didn't break any ribs once we're all situated. Holden is gonna board the station shortly. And Amos is going to do temp patches on this ship for the trip back so don't take off your helmet just yet."

"Roger." She fucking hated space suits. Her nose itched.

---

It was a few hours later when the raid of the station was all said and done. Amos had managed to patch up the important part of the ship and he'd already popped into the med bay where she was able to confirm that while he might have some nasty bruises shortly, he hadn't broken anything. As per usual Amos seemed unphased by both his injuries and the strange and stressful circumstances he obtained them under. August wished to herself that she could maintain her composure like that.

August was sitting with Alex in the bridge of the ship a little while later when Holden radioed the Roci and informed them that they were going to be transporting eight prisoners back to Tycho. August was tasked with making sure that they would all survive the trip. From the sound of it, there had been a decent amount of people on the station but the raiding party had shot first and then asked questions. August followed Alex down to the hull of the ship where they were boarding the prisoners.

If August had thought Holden was tightly wound before she wasn't sure what to call him after the raid. She half expected the blood vessel on his head to pop when he had stormed back onto the ship.

Unsure of what exactly had transpired on the station she glanced over to Alex who looked equally perplexed.

"Everything okay, Hoss?" He called after Holden as he strode across the room and aggressively pulled off his spacesuit.

"No. Miller shot the one guy who seemed to have a clue as to what the hell was going on with this whole thing." Holden slammed his helmet down on a table. "August," he said turning his angry gaze to her, "We have one scientist left, he's the one in white. Seems unharmed, but I'm putting you in charge of him. We need him alive." Some of the anger had faded from his voice, but barely. Holden shifted his gaze to behind her, Amos had silently appeared, apparently. "Amos, I want you with her when she's got any of these guys in the med bay."

"Got it, boss." Well, she thought to herself, there are worse babysitters to have. She shifted her gaze over to the prisoners who were all cuffed and walking in an orderly line surrounded by belters who were armed to the teeth. None of the prisoners seemed to care that an enemy force had just stormed their base, shot at least half their comrades, chained the survivors up and forced them out of their home by gunpoint. Either this was something that they'd experienced a lot in their careers or something was wrong. August had spent enough time working for Fred Johnson and seeing prisoners to know that sometimes the leader or right hand remained level headed, but not the whole group. Something was wrong with this picture. She bit the inside of her lip as she trailed after the prisoners and their escort. Amos fell into step with her but kept any thoughts he had about it to himself.

When they reached the brig, the prisoners went into the cell in an orderly fashion. The scientist was last in line. "You," Amos called out with a slight jerk of his chin in the man's direction. "You're going to come with us." The scientist nodded and calmly broke away from the group. Once the rest of the group was safely in the cell Amos entered a code into the pad beside the door which promptly closed and loudly locked.

August glanced at both Amos and the scientist before turning around and headed down the hall. They took the lift up to the second level where the med bay was located. Once they reached their destination the man sighed and looked at her, "I can tell you now that I'm fine and that this is a waste of time." His calm and even tone did nothing to relieve the knot that had begun to grow in her stomach on the silent walk to the med bay. "I need to get back to work. It's important."

"Okay, well I don't know if I can help with that but I have to make sure you aren't injured or sick. If you could -" He cut her off, sounding distressed.

"You don't understand! I need to get back to the protomolocule! We don't have time!" She saw Amos take a small step forward so it would be easier to put himself between the two of them if needed. She held up to the man who had gone from a blank slate to suddenly very animated.

"Slow down. We have to take this one step at a time. I know that can be frustrating but bare with me okay." She offered him a sympathetic smile and he took a deep breath and nodded. “Let’s start with you telling me what your name is. Mine is August.

"My name is Paolo."

"Alright, Paolo. Look I'm not the one making the calls here but I can go talk to the person that is if you want to speak with him. But first I need you to sit over there and let me make sure you aren't hurt. Sound like a plan?" He nodded again and it seemed like any life that had briefly surfaced in him settled back down. Without any more protest, he went and sat in the first of the medical chairs. August glanced over to Amos, feeling fairly bewildered at this entire scenario. He simply shrugged in response. She followed Paolo over to the table and then looked again to Amos who was behind her like a shadow. "Amos, do you have the key to the cuffs? I don't think they're necessary right now." Amos's brow furrowed for a moment.

"No funny business," he said fixing Paolo with a look before stepping to the side of August and using a key fob to unlock his cuffs. Amos then took the cuffs and pocketed them and posted up on the nearby wall.

She grabbed the small light she had in her pocket to do a quick check of Paolo's pupils. Nothing abnormal there. She took his pulse and blood pressure. All normal. He sat still and compliant. She was going to want to do some brain scans when they got back to Tycho and had the proper equipment. If it hadn't been for Paolo's fairly passionate outburst a moment ago she would have guessed this man and his comrades had all been lobotomized. That thought made the knot in her stomach turn again. She did a cursory med scan of his body to make sure there wasn't anything internal that was going to be a short term problem. That too was normal. August wondered to herself if there had ever been a time when this many normal results had only magnified her unease.

"Looks like you’re plenty healthy. Amos and I are going to walk you back to the holding cell now okay?"

"Yes," he said sliding off the table and standing, "But don't forget, you need to tell the captain I want to talk to him."

"I haven't forgotten," she said gently as Amos took the cuffs out of his pocket and put them back on Paolo's wrists.

The walk back to the brig was as silent as the one from it.

Paolo walked into the cell, his expression blank.

"Next," Amos called out. One of the other seven prisoners stepped up, as orderly as if this was just a normal doctor's check-up.

Another silent walk to the med bay. This man's name was Kent. He didn't ask for anything. Didn't ask any questions. And everything physical checked out normal. She chewed at the inside of her cheek as they went down to return him to the cell and get the next prisoner. A silent trip to the med bay. This man was all normal as well. He asked no questions, put up no resistance. His name was Roger. When they returned Roger to the cell, Amos didn't call out for the next person instead he closed and locked the door.

"Break time. We should eat." August gave a non-committal nod, deep in thought and worry about what exactly they had stumbled on. She followed Amos to the kitchen. She took a seat at the long table. She couldn't eat. She was pretty sure she wouldn't be able to hold anything down at the moment. The knot in her stomach had grown into an anxiety stomach ache. Maybe some tea would help, she thought to herself before getting up and sticking a little tea pod in the brew machine. After the tea brewed she grabbed a few packets of milk and sugar and sat back down.

A minute or two later Amos sat down next to her and surprised her when he set down a plate of food not only for himself but for her.

"You need to eat," he said, matter-of-factly. She appreciated the gesture but shook her head.

"I'm not hungry, but thanks."

"You didn't eat before the raid and Cap wants me to keep an eye on you. I'm not doing my job if you get sick."

"I'm not sure that's what he meant, I-"

Amos cut her off "Eat" for emphasis he nudged a fork into her hand. She let out of soft chuckle and took the fork.

"Didn't take you for the mother hen type,"

"Yeah well, when you're upset you make it fairly obvious." He took a bite of his food.

"Sorry?" She asked, unsure if that was a joke or a jab.

"I don't mean that as an insult. It's just plain as day when you find something upsetting. You'd be shit at poker." He took another bite of his food, glanced over to her and smiled.

"Correction, I am shit at poker." She felt the anxiety in her stomach ebb just a little when he let out a quiet laugh.

[beatlesandbards]

LISTEN! I know I shouldn't be in the tags because of #spoilers but also #fuckit. I literally can't get over how soft holden looks in every gif he's in with Naomi. My lil nolden heart is melting.

Haha luckily this scene (with Holden telling Naomi he'll put "it" in his report and being very cuddly-sweet with her) doesn't give anything away plot-wise so there's no real danger there. Having immediately watched the entire new season the night it released, I can tell you Holden is that soft with Naomi about 1200% of the time.

The scene from the trailer, where they're touching down on a planet for the first time? Amos and Holden both have the softest sweetest expressions on their faces watching her. The whole crew has such a homey, family feel now that they're all together again with their Shit Figured Out!

And no one out-softs our favorite space cowboy. 😍

[always-tilting-at-windmills]

Keyboard ⌨️ smash 💥 of 🖤 emotions

1x07 || 4x08

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