#nick blaine

[bo-kryzze]

JUNE OSBORNE & NICK BLAINE The Handmaid's Tale: Season Two

[thehandmaidsdaily]

THE HANDMAID'S TALE Season 6 Teaser Trailer

[jesperfahxey]

THE HANDMAID'S TALE 1.08 Jezebels

[happy74827]

Take Me Over

[Nick Blaine x Wife!Reader]

Synopsis: In the heart of Gilead’s oppressive regime, you find yourself thrust into a marriage with Nick Blaine, a man whose silent demeanor hides a truth you’ve realized to be shared.

WC: 2189

Category: Lime/Spice, Slight Fluff {TW — Forced Marriage}

I’m back at it again with another character that no one seems to write about 🥲 (I love him your honor)

『••✎••』

The dim light of the candles flickered in the oppressive silence of the room. You sat on the edge of the bed, your hands tightly gripping the stack of letters tied together by a brown string while you contemplated what you were about to do.

It’s been a total of two days since you were placed to be a part of the household of Commander Fred and Mrs. Waterford. Two days since you were forced into a role that you were not comfortable with. Two days since a new life was placed before you.

Two days since your marriage, and now here you are, sitting on the edge of a bed, dreading the moment that the door would open and once again reveal the man who was forced to be your husband.

Nick Blaine, that was his name, and it was all that was given to you. You knew nothing about him. All you knew was that you were his wife, and he was your husband, and you both had a role to play. Though, if the letters that you currently held in your hands were anything to go by, Nick Blaine, your husband, played the role of a rebel.

Shock. It was the first thing that you felt when you discovered the stack of letters hidden behind one of the drawers in the room. Then, curiosity. What exactly were they? You were so intrigued that you couldn't help yourself. You had to find out.

You didn’t regret it.

You didn't even want to.

What you had found was something you could not believe. Something so secret and dangerous that you could not fathom. The contents of the letters, the words written upon the papers, were like a breath of fresh air.

Stories, that's what they were. Stories that you would tell in hushed whispers. Stories that were passed around. Stories of the world before Gilead.

They seemed to be all handmaids. Handmaids telling their side of the story. Brave women who would take such risks, who would defy the rules, just to let their voices be heard.

They were inspiring, and as you read through them, you realized the more dangerous these letters were, the more powerful. And the more powerful they were, the more they were needed.

It was a small act of defiance, but it was enough. It was something that could keep the flame of hope alive, and that is exactly what they needed in the current situation.

But the question still stands. What was Nick Blaine doing with them?

You weren’t sure how you were supposed to feel, especially now that you were aware that a man of his stature and position could risk everything for the sake of those who were fighting against Gilead.

So many things were racing in your mind, but then it hit you. The soft glow in his eyes whenever Waterford’s handmaiden was around. The way he looked at her. Sympathy and guilt. He cared for her.

The revelation was almost jarring, but you weren’t too surprised. Nick always seemed different from the others. Hell, it’s been two days, and he hasn’t touched you.

You could almost guarantee that all the other men who were promoted and newly married would have already taken their wives by now. They would’ve taken their wife that night after the ceremony. But not him. Not Nick.

You were grateful.

He had a heart, and that's all that mattered.

A knock on the door snapped you back into reality, and before you could even respond, the door was opening.

It was Nick.

For a split second, the two of you just stared at each other, his eyes moving in slow motion as they trailed from your face to the stack of letters you were holding.

Of course, as he did so, all you could do was look at him in admiration. He was always easy on the eyes before, with hair and eyes that were darker than the luxurious dark chocolate you once loved to eat before Gilead. But, knowing what you know now, everything about him was just much more attractive.

But then, a flicker of fear was shown in his eyes, and all at once, the atmosphere seemed to grow tense.

Without saying a word, Nick stepped into the room and closed the door behind him. You could visibly see a sweat drop trickling down his neck as he tried to compose himself, his eyes never leaving the letters that were clutched tightly in your hands.

"Nick." You whispered, and you could see him stiffen at the mention of his name. The poor man was terrified, and it was heartbreaking.

"How much did you read?" His voice was rough and gravelly, and the sound was music to your ears.

"Enough." You answered, and without missing a beat, you slowly stood up and began to make your way toward him. "Enough to know I can trust you."

Your response was met with a surprised look, and it was clear to you that he was not expecting that. Truthfully, you were surprised yourself.

This was all new to you. You've never spoken so freely before, and you never expected the day would come when you would have the courage to defy the rules. But today was a strange day.

"I’ve never believed in miracles," You whispered, taking a few steps forward. Your eyes were locked with his, and you could see the surprise and curiosity swirling around in his beautiful, dark brown eyes. "but you might be the closest thing to one I could get."

A soft smile tugged at your lips as you slowly walked towards him, and as the two of you were only mere inches away from each other, you raised the stack of letters and gently pushed it towards him.

"You need to do better than hiding them behind a drawer, though. I almost tripped on it when it fell out." You said, and for the first time since you had met him, you saw his lips curl up into a ghost of a smile.

"Noted."

And then the two of you lapsed into silence. A comfortable silence that was filled with the soft glow of the candle and the faint crackling sound of the fire.

That night was the night your trust was built and the beginning of a bond that would eventually bring the two of you together.

It was a couple of months later, when he returned from Canada with the Waterfords, that your relationship from close friends to lovers began.

He’d gotten the letters out. He’d finally gotten them out, and as the news of the failed union between Canada and Gilead left his lips, all you could think about was the relief and the excitement.

Your heart was overflowing with joy, and your body was filled with a sense of warmth that you had long forgotten. Nick had done it. Nick had finally done it.

As soon as he finished recounting, you rushed to embrace him. A strong grip wrapped itself around his waist, and your face nuzzled into the crook of his neck.

Nick, on the other hand, was stiff as a board. Even though you two were married to each other, he still felt that it was inappropriate for him to touch you in such a manner.

The thought didn’t last long, however, as you pulled away and gave him a smile that made his heart skip a beat.

Your smile was radiant. Your eyes were twinkling, and your face was glowing. For the first time in a long time, you were truly happy. And Nick didn't think that he'd ever seen anything more beautiful.

"I'm proud of you."

Your words were soft, and as you placed your hand on his chest, you could feel his heartbeat quicken beneath your palm.

His eyes were locked on yours, and he could see the emotions swirling around in your eyes.

Relief. Excitement. Happiness. Admiration.

The list could go on, but in the end, all that mattered was that he could see the love that you held for him.

And that… that look was all it took for his hands to gently grasp your shoulders and guide you backward as you told him another set of words about how he was a hero and that he was amazing.

You didn’t even realize what he was doing until your back felt the concrete wall. Once you realized you weren’t moving anymore, you paused and looked at him, and the moment you did, your breath got caught in your throat.

Nick was looking at you with an intensity that made the hairs on the back of your neck stand. His hands had moved from your shoulders to the nape of your neck, and the warmth of his skin sent a shiver down your spine.

"Nick." You whispered, watching as his thumb grazed the outline of your bottom lip. It was a simple, tender gesture, but it was enough to send butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

You couldn’t get a response out, not even a single word, as you watched his eyes glance down at your lips, his own tongue darting out to lick his.

Then, his head was moving forward, and his lips were brushing against yours. It was a ghost of a kiss, barely touching your lips, but the electricity was there. It was a spark that made your entire body tingle and your heart race.

When Nick pulled away, he was met with your intense gaze. You were almost upset at the weak display. Even though you understood his hesitation, a part of you was hoping he would be braver.

"That's it?" You murmured, a hint of teasing in your voice.

And the moment those words left your mouth, he was smirking. He was actually smirking, and his fingers were running through your hair.

"Are you asking me for more?" He asked, his voice low and deep, sending another shiver down your spine.

"I’m not asking," You breathed out, leaning in close and pressing your forehead against his. The moment you did, his grip tightened around your waist, and his free hand slid down to your hip, squeezing it slightly. "You were brave enough to get those letters out. Be brave enough to kiss me like you mean it."

Those were the magic words.

He didn't say anything in response.

He didn't need to.

Instead, his hands went back to the nape of your neck, and his lips were once again on yours. Only this time, it was not a ghostly touch. It was real, and the moment his lips were on yours, all your senses were flooded with him.

You could feel his warm, plush lips molding against yours and the gentle way his fingers were running through your hair.

But what made you absolutely weak was the taste of him. Your legs were almost wobbling the moment his tongue slipped into your mouth. It was like a dance, his tongue brushing against yours as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

And as the two of you kissed, all the tension and the desire that had been building up in the past months slowly dissipated.

Your heart was racing, and your mind was in a daze. The only thing you were thinking about was Nick and his lips. And as his fingers gripped onto the strands of your hair and the way his hips began to press against yours, all you could think about was getting him closer.

So, your hands traveled down from his chest and to his back, gripping the material of his jacket as you pulled him towards you.

The action elicited a groan from the back of his throat, and his hips began to press firmly against yours. You could feel the way his hips were subtly grinding against yours, and as his hardness began to rub against the thin material of your dress, the moan that escaped your lips was swallowed by his mouth.

The kiss was turning heated and passionate, and your lips were swollen and bruised. Your fingers were tugging on his hair, and his were clutching at the strands of your own.

His teeth gently bit down on your bottom lip, and a moan escaped your lips; the sound was swallowed by his mouth, and you could feel him smiling.

You and Nick were so lost in each other that night, so focused on the taste of one another and the way his body was pressed against yours; it created a bubble where you both were safe, warm, and blissful.

It was the first time in a long time either of you had felt that way, and that feeling continued to grow, and eventually, it blossomed into a love that was deeper than the ocean and brighter than the sun.

And that was when you realized that no matter what happened, the two of you would always have each other, and no matter how cruel the world was, the two of you would always find a way to stay true to yourselves.

[zalrb]

Okay I've just discovered your Nick and June posts and I am OBSESSED!!

Here's something interesting that I'd love for you to expand on.

In 5x10 when Nick punches Lawrence, I think that's the first time in 5 seasons that he's actually lost his cool. Alot of his emotions are telegraphed on his face in beautifully subtle ways, but with the punch, it's the first time he's had a real external reaction that he just want able to control. It's super interesting to me!!

Thank you! If you haven't, you might want to watch my edits of them too! They're always fun for me to do so I encourage people who want to watch them to watch them! Playlist of all the vids is below:

And you're right about 5x10! Absolutely. I think the outburst is a combination of a couple of things.

1. This isn't the first time June's life has been in danger but it is the first time that Nick wasn't there in some capacity to, if not prevent harm

or help her escape

then save her life

Even when she's being tortured in 4x03, he knows where she is, he has an idea of what's happening

and he's doing everything in his power to make sure she gets out

In 4x05, he doesn't know where she is, but he's keeping tabs as best as he can

and he didn't think he would need to have that in Canada, he thought that she was finally safe and when he did get an inkling of danger, he tried to do what he always did with a person he at least somewhat trusted

and it didn't work, he wasn't there, he couldn't help

and her safety is of paramount importance to him

That feeling of devastation for him must've been astronomical.

2. I think all of this was exacerbated by the fact that this season was spent with Nick actively working against his own emotions rather than simply hiding them. Even though he was taciturn or silent and had to communicate with a shift in his expression or a movement or a subtle gesture, he never attempted to repress his love for June, he never tried to lie to himself about her and now, he's doing his best to lie to himself, and repress his love, and be honourable to his wife and, the instinct, and the impulse to be with June, to overtly, expressly love her is there, it's very much there, but he ignores it

and that must've felt like suffocating

that these two things that each contain a multitude of other nuanced things converge and the only way for him to react is with an outburst of emotion

plus there's the fact that, when given the opportunity, Nick hits the men who have harmed June or put June in harm's way :)

Those are my thoughts on it anyway!

[osblaineswiftie]

for season 6 about nick!!!!!!!!!! (this is what bruce miller said)

[glasskey]

Nick & June's Mixtape Vol. 5

Yep we’ve reached THAT part of our collective mix tapes where it’s time for the tears. Season 4 saw June’s homecoming and Nick’s attempt to “let her go”. Brace yourself people, even the Nick haters found 4 09 hard to take.

I should have run away with you when I had the chance

Oh boy the legendary 4 09, a moment in THT history that’s notorious for unleashing a tsunami of tears. Nick and June meet for the first time in months, at an isolated icy location, but as he steps from the shadows behind her and calls her name, her face visibly melts. Turning to face him, the sun literally breaks through the clouds.

A wide shot depicts the initial distance between them, but as always it’s quickly overcome and they gather inside, huddling together in a warm and glowing light with their child “like a real family”. Unfortunately, like all their moments of happiness, it’s tinged with the sorrow and heartache of their inevitable separation. June has come to ask Nick for some help in the unending quest to retrieve Hannah, and he’s already 10 steps ahead of her, having compiled a treasure trove of photographs and information about her daughter. “You did all this for me?” June seems stunned at Nick’s willingness to stick his neck out to help her, the ensuing look on his face speaks volumes.

If you ever have to wonder why Blaine might be willing to stick his neck in the noose for just one chance to bask in June’s literal glow, consider how cold and isolated Blaine must feel in Gilead without her. Regret pours out of Blaine “I should have run away with you when I had the chance”, but he’s deeply mistaken. Gilead and their own peaceful existence as a family cannot occur simultaneously; Nick and June are our figurative Romeo and Juliet, invented as the perfect construct to illustrate what can be lost or broken by these types of regimes, and exactly why it’s necessary to fight.

The window and the hazy golden light is a call back to S2 when Nick and June stood in Waterford’s kitchen, named their baby and dreamt of a life together. In both scenes Nick makes an affectionate quip about their daughter being like her mother, there’s an overwhelming sense of love for June as the mother of his child in these moments. This scene also contains one of the most beautiful kisses you’ll ever see on THT. Blaine pauses ever so briefly, scans her face, senses his inevitable cue and dives in. There’s a sense of uncontainable longing, passion and as they break away…..so much heartache. Gilead continuously rips these two away from one another, but the irony is had it never transpired neither would Nick and June and neither would Holly.

I’d managed to hold it together up until this point but it was the doll that finally did me in. As he danced it front of her and laughed for the first time EVER, my heart tore open like a cheap paper bag, and I swore I heard the sound of a thousand Osblaine’s hearts breaking all at once. The cruelty of Gilead feels truly visceral in this moment. As The Nature of Daylight, a composition about war tearing families apart, plays in the background, we saw a snippet of what their family could truly be….the actual price they pay every day.

Eric Tuchman gave audiences something very special with 4 09, he didn’t just write a beautiful reunion between two of our favorite characters, he drove a deep and painful point home. For every “Gilead” there are thousands and thousands of Nick and June’s; families all desperate to be reunited and finally hold their children once again.

Try to be happy

Following on from our last track, 4 09 gave us yet another classic. Sitting there bleary eyed from the buckets of tears I’d already shed, I wondered exactly how much more of the heartbreaking anguish we were expected to take? Then Nick went and upped the ante and told June to “Try and be happy” without him, and slipped THAT ring on his finger. I was so horrified, I could have set my television on fire. We had to wait until the next season to actually meet Rose, she seemed fairly innocuous, almost intentionally unthreatening.

“Would I like her?” asks June, well yes definitely, the woman had exactly zero chemistry with Blaine. Watching Nick and Rose together was like witnessing an arranged marriage in which the agreed parties were courteous and appropriately affectionate but never passionate. Nick seemed determined to be kinder to Rose than he had been to Eden, however the only evidence that anything other than a polite handshake had actually taken place was the baby in her belly. “Try to be happy” June echoes Nicks words back to him through her tears in Season 5, and it’s then for the first time since S1 that we see inside Blaine’s mind’s eye. It’s filled with the two of them alone, kissing, flooded in a blinding light.

The moment is slowed down to emphasize the depth of his desire and obsession. It’s a memory turned fantasy that tortures him constantly. The light is so bright it almost burns and as he silently hangs up the phone, we see him standing alone backlit, underscoring not only the vividness of his memory of June but also his solitariness. This was inserted to impress the intimacy of his pain at being separated from Osborne, and it mirrors perfectly June’s memory of kissing Luke in S1. As always these reflections are somewhat skewed, Here we see June cry as she feels the pain that Luke endured as he stood on that icy bridge in S3, and listened to her tape. There’s a difference here though; Nick doesn’t love Rose, and he never did.

[manus-multae-cor-unum]

osblaine x illicit affairs

it's been ages since I've made a GIF-set, please excuse this mess!

[hughesgarnet]

my loves a.k.a. why can't i just ship couples that aren't tragic -- OsBlaine, The Handmaid's Tale Season 4 Episode 09 "Progress"

[secretlovelygarden]

[tellingtell5]

Three Little Birds part. 1 《Nick Blaine, The handmaid's tell》

A short story about Nick Blaine.

Nick Blaine x oc!fmale

Hi: I love The Handmaid's Tale and the relationship between June and Nick, but I couldn't get this story out of my head. I’m always looking for stories about this character, but I never find exactly what I’m looking for, so I decided to write it myself. I hope it reaches someone. Thank you.

Three Little Birds Part 2.

I wish there were a mirror where I could see my reflection. It’s a recurring thought, creeping in when I least expect it. "Vanity is a selfish sin, girl." Aunt Lise’s voice follows the thought, sharp and unyielding. But this isn't just about curiosity—about seeing how they’ve prepared me for what, according to the women around me, should be one of the happiest days of my life, second only to the birth of my future children, of course. It’s about something deeper. It’s been years since I last saw myself. Would I even recognize the person staring back at me? Or would it feel like looking at someone I once knew, someone familiar yet distant, their face blurred by time and memory?

The truth is, I am not happy. I’m not afraid either, nor anxious about the tragic fate that awaits me. I suspect one of the Marthas slipped a narcotic into the tea they served me a few minutes ago. It’s a common practice on occasions like this—just enough to dull the mind, to keep the girls calm, too weary and dazed to resist, but not so much that they’d faint and delay the ceremony. That would be a disaster.

I had always imagined this day differently. In a normal world, I would have chosen my own dress, picked the flowers, planned the menu for the family I would have invited—eager to share my happiness with them. And I would have known the man waiting for me at the end of the aisle. I would have loved him enough to want to marry him.

Instead, I am in an unfamiliar room, laced into a regal, antique dress that once belonged to another girl before me and will surely be worn by another after me. "Gilead is at war, girls. We cannot afford extravagance for each and every one of you, nor grand ceremonies." And yet, this event is laughably pompous. Today, I and dozens of other girls will be married off to men we have never even seen, in front of Gilead’s most distinguished Commanders, their Wives, the Marthas, and the Handmaids.

I wish I could say I cried, that I screamed, that I fought against being sold like cattle, my worth reduced to my biological function. But I didn’t. Not a single tear fell, despite the weight of my grief. Some might call it resignation, but deep down, I knew the right word was exhaustion. If I made a scene, one of the Aunts would come rushing in to remind me of my privilege. That the only alternative paths available to me were a lifetime of servitude as a Martha, stripped of identity, or as a Handmaid, forced to bear children for another family.

"You are fortunate, given your record," Aunt Lydia had told me when they agreed to arrange a respectable marriage for me as a favor to my father. His position as a trauma surgeon granted him certain influence, even in Gilead’s rigid hierarchy. Otherwise, given my so-called advanced age and my past associations, my fate would have been much worse. By Gilead’s laws, I was an adulteress—a term they used for women with rebellious spirits. Before the uprising solidified its grip, I had been among those raising their voices, protesting as we were stripped of our jobs and our education.

I remember the day they froze my bank account. From that moment on, my father controlled my finances, as the closest male relative. He urged me to come home, promising he would try to secure passports so we could flee the country. But we never even made it across the street. A black van, its side marked with the emblem of an Eye with silver wings, cut us off. Armed men stepped out, their rifles slung across their chests. They told my father his skills were essential to Gilead.

He managed to delay my fate, bargaining for time, negotiating my place in this new order. "We will find her a respectable husband," they told him, "someone who will look after her and secure her future." But because he was not a Commander, he was not allowed to choose the candidates himself, as was customary. All I knew was that my husband wouldn’t be someone from the highest ranks—girls like me, those not raised from childhood to be obedient, were seen as too unpredictable. Too dangerous.

And now, here I am, waiting for the life that has been chosen for me.

While I enjoyed my limited freedom within the ecclesiastical regime I now lived under, I had managed to infiltrate the underground network operating in and out of the country. My father was rarely home, which made it easier to hide people—Marthas, Handmaids—those preparing to flee. But now? Could I continue my illegal activities under the watchful eye of my new husband? I highly doubted it. Still, I had contacts. And I wouldn’t hesitate to use them when the time was right—when things had settled after the wedding.

“Girls, it’s time.”

A heavy sigh escaped my lips. I gripped the edge of the opaque veil they had placed over my head and pulled it down over my face. At least it would hide the hatred written all over my expression for the duration of the ceremony. Though I could still see everything through the fabric, it reminded me of the tinted windows in certain cars—allowing those inside to observe the world while dulling its brightness, stripping away its beauty. To those on the outside, however, it offered nothing but obscurity, concealing the person within. That, after all, was the purpose of this garment: to keep me hidden until it was too late.

Since my mother was no longer alive, she couldn’t walk me down the aisle. Instead, an Aunt whose name I didn’t even know took my arm, guiding me into position. Before and behind me stood other girls—too young for what awaited them. My teeth clenched in fury. As awful as this was, at least I was old enough to have left adolescence behind. The others couldn’t have been more than sixteen. A sharp tug pulled me from my thoughts, and I stumbled forward, falling into step with the rest of the procession.

We entered the stage of an auditorium, where a line of men stood waiting to receive us. A higher-ranking official was delivering a speech on the importance of fulfilling our assigned duties, on the sacred nature of marriage.

When we finally stopped moving, my muscles seemed to loosen, my body floating as if caught in a dream. Everything around me appeared slightly blurred, the colors a little too bright. A song played over and over in my head, like a silent plea for help. Singing don’t worry about a thing, ‘cause every little thing gonna be alright. Maybe the pill they had slipped into my drink was kicking in, because I still can’t say for sure whether what happened next was real or just a drug-induced haze.

I studied the man in front of me carefully. He was tense, his gaze averted, offering me only his profile. He looked young—perhaps a few years older than me—but there was discomfort in the way he fidgeted, rolling his ring from one finger to another absentmindedly. His thick eyebrows arched slightly, deepening the creases in his forehead. Was this difficult for him? Did he oppose this, too? My heart pounded wildly in my ears. Maybe, just maybe, I had a chance to escape all of this.

When he reached for my hand to place the ring on my finger, I almost pulled away. I even twitched—just slightly—but he noticed. For the first time, he looked at me. His lips parted, as if he wanted to say something, but no words came out. I gave him another chance to stop this. His touch was barely there, light as air, as though he were trying to touch me as little as possible. I appreciated that. Gently, I took his hand in return. His palms were rough, calloused from work, but I slid the ring onto his finger anyway.

As he released my hand and reached for the edges of my veil, the urge to scream clawed at my throat. Instead, I swallowed a sob, squeezing my eyes shut as tightly as possible. This time, the tears finally fell, hot trails streaking my cheeks. The lump in my throat made it impossible to breathe, and I was forced to part my lips just to let in some air.

When the voice speaking above us finally ceased, I opened my eyes and saw him clearly for the first time—without the veil between us. He looked uneasy, even distressed, but there was something else there, too. A flicker of relief. Maybe because he realized I was a grown woman and not a child like the others.

Somewhere deep within my tormented soul, I felt a hint of relief, too. He wasn’t an old man. He wasn’t a boy raised in Gilead, one who would believe he had the right to control me.

The entire ride to his house, I didn’t speak a word. I just stared out the window. That’s how I learned his name—Nick. He worked as a driver for Commander Waterford. The esteemed couple sitting in the car with us couldn’t stop talking about how thrilled they were that their loyal servant had finally been rewarded.

I pressed my lips into a thin line. They were telling him—telling me—that I was his prize for good behavior.

My eyes flicked to the rearview mirror, where I caught a glimpse of my new husband. His hands gripped the wheel so tightly his knuckles had turned white. Did it bother him, the way they spoke about me? I exhaled sharply.

I let my gaze linger, scrutinizing him without shame. If I had met him somewhere else—at a party, in another life, in a world far from here—would I have noticed him? Maybe. I might have even found him attractive. But none of that mattered.

I didn’t know him.

And now, I was his property. A servant. A means to an end—a child.

Our eyes met in the mirror. I held his gaze, daring him, warning him. This will not be easy for you. If he thought I would submit, he was mistaken. I would make his life hell.

He didn’t look away.

What was he trying to tell me? A threat? Don’t push too far, or you’ll regret it?

Regret what? Would they hang me on the Wall?

The thought startled me, but not for the reason it should have.

Because, for the first time, I realized—

I didn’t care if they did.

When we arrived, I politely excused myself, saying that the emotions of the day had left me exhausted and that I needed to rest for a while. Nick led me to his home—a modest living space above the garage. I felt like an intruder. This was his place, and now a stranger was invading it.

He gave me a very brief tour before setting my suitcase down on the floor.

"Make yourself comfortable. This is your home now too."

He said it without looking at me, his eyes fixed on the ground, his voice tense. I thanked him, and he disappeared through the door—he still had duties to finish before the day was over.

I didn’t unpack. I just sat on the edge of the bed and cried, my whole body shaking with the force of it. I told myself I had to let it all out before he came back and tried to fulfill his “duty.” The only thing I pulled from my belongings was a set of sleepwear—much more modest than what I used to wear when I lived with my father.

Then, I sat on the bed again. Waiting.

Waiting for what?

A shiver ran down my spine at the thought of what was supposed to happen next.

What if I refused?

Maybe I could slit his throat in his sleep and then cut my own. After all, killing a man was a capital sin.

The door creaked open, and Nick hesitated before stepping inside, as if he hadn’t expected me to still be there. Maybe he had hoped I’d run away. He shrugged off his jacket and headed straight for the bathroom.

The sound of running water. He was showering.

This was my chance.

I stood up as quietly as I could and slipped into the kitchen, grabbing the first knife I saw. I hid it under my pillow and sat back down, trying to appear as obedient as possible.

When he came out, he was wearing what I assumed was his sleepwear—an old t-shirt that might have once been decent enough to wear outside and a pair of loose pants. He glanced at me warily before heading toward the bed.

I took a deep breath. He couldn’t suspect anything.

But instead of what I had expected, he simply pulled back the sheets and climbed in with a deep sigh, letting out a quiet hum of satisfaction as he sank into his bed.

I turned to look at him, but his eyes were already closed.

"Good night."

That was all he said.

I watched his silhouette for a while, lying still under the blankets. He knew that refusing to consummate the marriage could lead to severe punishment—maybe even death. And yet, he didn’t seem to regret it. He knew exactly what he was risking.

But no one would ever know.

I hesitated, fidgeting with my hands.

" I’m not an obedient woman. I don’t know how to cook. Or iron..."

It was the only thing I could bring myself to say.

Nick opened one eye and studied me for a moment.

"Good thing I do," he replied before shutting his eyes again.

Something inside me eased. It was as if I had been carrying a pocket full of stones and someone had suddenly lifted the weight away.

Could I return to my work with the resistance?

What would happen if he found out I was part of Mayday?

I slipped under the covers, careful not to touch him.

That night, for the first time since arriving in Gilead, I slept peacefully.

[bo-kryzze]

the war will turn us into monsters (i no longer recognize you) [j.m] (insp)

[thehandmaidsdaily]

JUNE OSBORNE & NICK BLAINE 1.04 "Nolite Te Bastardes Carborundorum"

[osblainefan84]

OMG!! A compilation of their "I love you"

🥹

[ember-not-amber]

I recently started watching The Handmaid's Tale on Hulu (the last episode I watched was S2 ep 7) and I'm curious what the general consensus is on Luke & June vs Nick & June bc I really like Nick for June and Luke doesn't seem terrible at all. Still, that one flashback scene where he reassures June that they should stay together even though they started their relationship while he was still married to another woman, "she doesn’t matter because we’re going to get married. I’m going to make you happy." gave me the ick.

Like, you married Annie, too and you still cheated on her so how is that at all reassuring? I'm still waiting for a flashback that shows what Annie and Luke's relationship was like bc I have absolutely no clue why he cheated on her. I can understand why June technically cheated on Luke with Nick which was bc she was trapped in a terrible system where she was abused and felt unloved and unwanted and she was separated from her loved ones and she just wanted to feel something. So far I haven't seen any dialogue from Luke saying anything about what his marriage with Annie was like but if I had to guess, based on the episode where Annie stalked June and accused her of "stealing her husband" as if he's not also a human being capable of making his own choices, maybe they had differing views/ideas on what they wanted out of marriage, or he fell out of love with her, or he cheated just to cheat like a lot of douchebag guys do.

And yes, I am aware that June is also in the wrong for knowingly going after a married man, she isn't innocent in this either. She did seem to consider ending the relationship after Annie confronted her (which, why did it take his ex confronting you for you to consider not getting with a married man? Did Moira not give you any criticism for it? She seems like the type who would bc real friends tell you when you did sth wrong and they hold you accountable but judging by how they act around each other Moira seems very supportive of their relationship) whereas Luke didn't seem to think there was anything wrong with staying with the woman he started a relationship with while he was still taken at any point in time but that means nothing since she did end up staying with him despite that.

Sorry for how long this is, I originally meant for this to be shorter lol I'll put a Keep Reading tab in case ppl just want the tl;dr at the top. So, with all this considered I'm wondering if everyone else that enjoys this show wants June to end up with Nick or stay with Luke and which one is supported by the majority of people?

[spockvarietyhour]