#Craig Fuller

[garadinervi]

Richard Landis, in collaboration with Craig Fuller, Nucleus, (mercerized cotton double weave), 1977 [Cooper Hewitt, Smithsonian Design Museum, New York, NY. © Richard Landis, Craig Fuller]

[pwlanier]

Gonna see Pure Prairie League tonight.

[krispyweiss]

Song Review: Little Feat - “Time Loves a Hero” (Live, July 21, 2022)

If “Time Loves a Hero” is any indication, the newest iteration of Little Feat is the closest the band has come to the classic lineup’s sound since the Craig Fuller days.

The band released a live version of the track recorded July 21 to celebrate its own heroes - Lowell George, Richie Hayward, Paul Barrère, Fuller, Shaun Murphy, Gabe Ford and Roy Estrada - all of whom have left the band and/or the planet.

It’s accompanied by a chronological video featuring album art and promo and on-stage photographs of every musician to wear the tiny shoes, including original member Bill Payne, classic-era additions Kenny Gradney and Sam Clayton, Fuller-era appointee Fred Tackett and the newest Feats, Scott Sharrard and Tony Leone.

There are moments during this recording where it sounds as if the impossible-to-reunite old band was back together again. That’s excellent news, but for the fact Sound Bites has declined to see them since Fuller left.

It may be time for a tactical adjustment.

Grade card: Little Feat - “Time Loves a Hero” (Live - 7/21/22) - B+

9/15/22

[filosofablogger]

♫ Amie ♫

As I mentioned a few nights ago, our friend Keith sent me an email with three song suggestions earlier this week, and today’s is the third of his titles!  (Feel free to send me some suggestions to help me out, friends!) This is one that a line or two periodically pop into my head for no particular reason, but I hadn’t given thought to the song in its entirety for a long time!  I’m generally not a…

[crewofthecreek]

The Sleepover Chronicles - Title Cards

Designed and painted by Benjamin Anders

Backgrounds designed by Cory Fuller, Santino Lascano and Mariel Rodriguez

Episodes start airing June 1st on Cartoon Network (and next day on Max!)

[craig-parker-cravings]

I just love this and all of them. Wish I had this.

[collincountymagazine]

McKinney TX stories: Veterans Memorial Park honors those who gave their lives; U.S. Marine Ronnie "RD" Foster's legacy

R.D. Foster tribute to Navy Seal Chris Kyle: “I want to live a cowboy’s life”

[redmyeyes]

Fellow Travelers sex scenes

I can't stop thinking about what Matt and Jonny keep repeating over and over again in interviews, regarding the FT sex scenes. That, in the writing and filming it was important that:

No two scenes were the same.

Every sex scene informed the story.

The characters were not the same before the scene as they were after. That they were changed by it.

So, let's talk about them.

"Pretend"

establishment of hawk's usual modus operandi -- brief fucks with strangers. he keeps a tight rein on his desires and won't allow himself to want more.

2. "Fold them."

establishing dynamics, hawk is in control, tim is being (happily) led. par for the course for hawk (or is it?)

3. "I'm your boy, right?"

tim can play, too. this dynamic is not one-way. the 'power' in this relationship definitely does not lie solely with hawk. you might even say this flips the power dynamic on its head. hawk is GONE.

4. "Do you like it this way? Your life, like this?"

not a sex scene, but one of the first slow, tender aftermaths. clear now that, for both of them, this goes much much deeper than just sex.

5. "I belong to Hawkins Fuller."

tim showing that he's willing to meet hawk on his level. the submission and dominance are so intertwined here they can't be separated. it's the willingness of that submission, the willingness of that Belonging, that changes everything.

and tim begging (through provocation) hawk to acknowledge him / what they have, out loud. "who do you belong to" = "i love you, i need you, tell me you need me too."

6. "It's your turn tonight."

a fucked-up goodbye, on hawk's part. he really thinks this might be the last time he's allowed to see tim, and he says 'i love you' the only way he knows how -- with his body, with service.

7. "Your Honor, I stand before you accused of being sweet."

crucially, not a sex scene. even more crucially, there is no sex at all in episode 5, where they separate for the first (and, they think, last) time. instead, we're shown what they're really giving up -- this too sweet (painfully sweet) domesticity.

8. "We don't have to do what we used to do."

the horribly empty aftermath. where they give in to "sex", of a sort, but it's dry and horrifically painful and NOT AT ALL what either of them want. because what they want is intimacy, not sex. and they're not allowed this.

9. "Stay with me."

the botched threesome, where craig is an afterthought, an excuse for hawk and tim to be together, and even then, horrifically painful in the way they LONG for each other and for what they can't have.

10. "I want you to fuck me."

a true surrender. again, hawk showing what he wants the only way he knows how -- through his body -- giving tim his willing submission, body, heart and soul.

11. "We'll be colleagues. We'll see each other every day."

not technically a sex scene, but the truest expression of them 'making love' that we ever get on screen. returning to #1, it's the polar opposite of what hawk had previously allowed himself, and it's what he really wants -- all the intimacy he'll shortly be sacrificing.

12. "That better?" "Oh yeah."

finally, finally, after all those years, a return to the true intimacy they were craving.

[just-late-roman-republic-things]

Corrupting the youth with ancient Roman trading cards: Julio-Claudian edition!

Artist attributions and historical notes under the cut.

Murder of Caesar by Karl Theodor von Piloty

Virgil Reading the Aeneid by Jean-Baptiste Wicar

Tiberius exiles by Félix Joseph Barrias

Caligula by Antonio Tempesta

Claudius proclaimed emperor by Charles Lebayle

Talma as Nero in Britannicus by Eugène Delacroix

Other graphics come from frescoes at Pompeii and Herculaneum. Dictators get red backgrounds and emperors get purple.

Historical notes:

Some facts come from ancient sources, which may be biased or wrong. But I've chosen to use them here since these cards are just for fun. For a fuller, more accurate view of these guys, check out my recommended books!

Source for nine times Augustus nearly died on a boat: I counted them!

Sexual orientation wasn't a concept in ancient Rome, but Claudius is the only Julio-Claudian emperor explicitly described as not attracted to men; all others have at least one story of involvement with a man. See Roman Homosexuality by Craig Williams for details.

[feelingpure]

“I'm sure you don't want to come, considering what a fucking self-righteous bore you've turned into!”

When I catch Hawkins Fuller:

Further live reactions under the cut, because wuifdbivfyisvdtusdyif I need to yell about whatever tf else is gonna take place.

THEY GOT MY BOY DOING BLOW Y'ALL 😭 (ok it's the late 70s so yes everyone is doing coke, and he didn't do it like a novice, but I'm still blaming them idc). And the finger sucking... we'll come back to that at some point lmao. What is going awn?

Ok, now he's been fed pills on the dance floor. 😂 Anyway the soundtrack is banging, so now i'm like (booging to forget):

Not this being-jealous-of-craig thing pls.

Tim is... not looking like he's having a good time anymore. 😭

And something's happening with the rest on the dancefloor. I'm feeling very anxious.

Marcus and Frankie having a domestic at his work place. “I have news for you. You are a big chocolate gay man.” and his student is watching in the background. 👀 Ok Marcus, time to confront some things (I hope)! And then he said THAT, and then he did THAT. Omg, the way Frankie yeeted him 😭 everyone is in pain.

Skippy is very 💅 here. And I can't decide if I fully hate Craig or... he's v annoying but also lol?

The boyfriends are fighting! Aaaaahhh, GET HIM TIM!

Ok suddenly something very different is happening... also that Tim/Hawk kiss, yes! (it was a lil slutty, but that's all I've been wanting). OH I WAS NOT EXPECTING THIS WTF IS HAPPENING OMG WFQOVBSDVBSFJKB!

Nvm... it's not happening, even though Hawk tried to force their heads together like a kid playing with 2 dolls. Cause look at his face peaking from between theirs hahah. 😂 Anyway... WHEN DID CRAIG TAKE HIS SHORTS OFF LMAOOO?! They just weren't there all of a sudden??!!

WAIT I'M ACTUALLY SCREAMING. IT'S ACTUALLY HAPPENING NOW (via some v questionable words from Hawk but).

👀👀👀 WAIT WHAT-- WHVBDLAD. So Hawk can get it up if Skippy is there. Alright. And Craig's dirty foot just hanging out right there as they kiss aaahhh lol. Ok, apparently I've hit the image limit haha, but there's a lot of limbs in places... and someone is calling me rn so I have to pause wtf. 😭😭😭

So I came back after I finished watching it and. Well well, that was a terrible time to pause ietbhfvebigadwn!!! Anyway, I'd keep blabbing on next to more caps if it'd let me.

But just... that whole episode was A LOT. The way things escalated, the way scenes turned upside down and then back again. The explosive husband arguments! The ending to that threesome was wild. The final 70s Tim/Hawk scene. OUCH.

Yes, Hawk's been hurt but. Hm, I have a lot of feelings, will probs have to be a separate post if I get the chance. There's too much to dissect. All in all; I am a Tim Laughlin warrior, and if you're yelling at him Hawk then I'm gonna have to yell at you.

[muzaktomyears]

I know there's a lot of answers out there for this question, but personally like what do you think are the best beatle books to read? Like what's the best for you?

hello anon! I'm hyperfixated so I'll read pretty much anything on them tbh. I do like to read the more anecdotal stuff because I love gossip lol - and some of them can be so revealing (both of the Beatles themselves and the authors). But I'll read and have enjoyed lots of stuff: the big biogs, memoirs, fan accounts, academic studies, that novel by Paul's ex publicist.

anyway, here's the list of Beatles books I've read all the way through and what rating out of 5 I'd give them. The books I've rated highest have generally been the big biographies just because I think they tend to say more and tell a fuller story, since obvs that's their purpose, so they're a more satisfying read. My ratings are based on a random combo of what they can tell us about the Beatles, how interesting I find them historiographically/as Beatles reception, and how much I enjoyed reading them.

★★★★★

One Two Three Four: The Beatles in Time (Craig Brown)

The Beatles: The Authorised Biography (Hunter Davies)

Shout!: The True Story of the Beatles (Philip Norman)

Love Me Do!: The Beatles' Progress (Michael Braun)

Can't Buy Me Love: The Beatles, Britain, and America (Jonathan Gould)

The Man Who Gave the Beatles Away: The Amazing True Story of the Beatles' Early Years (Allan Williams & William Marshall)

★★★★☆

The Love you Make: An Insider's Story of the Beatles (Peter Brown & Steven Gaines)

Backbeat: Stuart Sutcliffe - The Lost Beatle (Alan Clayson & Pauline Sutcliffe)

The Gospel According to the Beatles (Steve Turner)

Lennon vs. McCartney: The Beatles, Inter-band Relationships and the Hidden Messages to Each Other in Their Song Lyrics (Adam Thomas)

Beatle! The Pete Best Story (Pete Best & Patrick Doncaster)

Dreaming the Beatles: The Love Story of One Band and the Whole World (Rob Sheffield)

A Cellarful of Noise (Brian Epstein)

Waiting for the Beatles: An Apple Scruff's Story (Carol Bedford)

John (Cynthia Lennon)

John Lennon: In My Life (Pete Shotton & Nicholas Schaffner)

Summer of Love: The Making of Sgt. Pepper (George Martin with William Pearson)

★★★☆☆

John, Paul & Me Before the Beatles: The True Story of the Very Early Days (Len Garry)

The Beatles and Me on Tour (Ivor Davis)

A Twist of Lennon (Cynthia Lennon)

At the Apple's Core: The Beatles from the Inside (Denis O'Dell with Bob Neaverson)

The Guitar's All Right as a Hobby, John (Kathy Burns)

With the Beatles (Alistair Taylor)

The Day John Met Paul: An Hour-By-Hour Account of How the Beatles Began (Jim O'Donnell)

The Beatles: I Was There (Richard Houghton)

All Our Loving: A Beatle Fan's Memoir (Carolyn Lee Mitchell & Michael Munn)

Rock Bottom (Geoff Baker)

Once There Was a Way: What if the Beatles Stayed Together? (Bryce Zabel)

Like Some Forgotten Dream: What if the Beatles Hadn't Split Up? (Daniel Rachel)

Dylan, Lennon, Marx and God (Jon Stewart)

Paul is Undead: The British Zombie Invasion (Alan Goldsher)

★★☆☆☆

Paperback Writer (Mark Shipper)

[dickinson-devotee]

#Repost @/peppersweetpea

——

The Mountbatten Music Festival was rather spectacular! I'm sad that I am only able to post 60-second clips of video rather than the entirety of my recordings. I've edited a couple of things to fit that and hope you enjoy. I'll likely work on more at some point, though. I do know there's loads of stuff on YouTube already, and The Royal Albert Hall will be releasing a formal recording of the event sometime in May. It was such an incredible weekend, not just the shows themselves but spending time with family and friends and meeting so many incredible people. Thank you to BDC, Craig Buckley, Stu Warmngton, Charlie Charlesworth, Mark & Sherene Fuller, and so many more people I'm unable to name. Mostly, though, thank You, Lord Jesus, for getting us through it. We are grateful.

——

March 11th, 2024

[krispyweiss]

Album Review: Little Feat - Sam’s Place

The new Little Feat do a respectable job of mimicking the old Little Feat - mostly on account of Bill Payne’s barroom piano and Scott Sharrard’s slide guitar - but the band erred gravely by turning all lead vocals over to Sam Clayton.

The percussionist’s voice sounds nothing like the one he used on the sinewy “Feel the Groove” from 1979’s Down on the Farm. And his contemporary, half-spoken growl quickly grows tiresome across the eight covers and one original that make up Sam’s Place, named not for the singer, but for Sam Phillips Recording Studio, where Feat made the album.

So while dropping the needle on any single track - the acoustic blues of “Long Distance Call” with Bonnie Raitt on co-lead vocals or the gritty call-and-response shuffle of “Don’t Go No Further,” for instance - is satisfying, the 40-minute album is a slog.

And that’s mostly on Clayton. For the Muddy Waters and Willie Dixon songs are timeless. And the new Little Feat - with Sharrard and drummer Tony Leone joining original member Payne; Dixie Chicken arrivals Clayton and bassist Kenny Gradney; and post-Lowell George addition Fred Fackett on guitar - is the best since the Craig Fuller days. But Clayton cannot carry an album at the mic.

Grade card: Little Feat - “Sam’s Place” - D

5/22/24

[billthedrake]

DECLAN'S VAIL WEEKEND

(I wrote this with a big assist from @aestheticsupremacy. Real people are mentioned, but it's completely a fictional story.)

"Make yourself comfortable, Declan," the 48-year-old said as he turned on the lights of the modestly sized but well-appointed mountain home.

Declan Miles had a good sense this guy was well-off, but as he looked around the place it was clear this two-bedroom Vail pad was crazy expensive. A part of him had hesitated when USC, as part of their hard-press courtship of the Boise State defensive end, had put the player in touch with one of their alums just as the 2018 season ended.

"We call em our Trojan ambassadors," Coach Helton explained over FaceTime. "We figured you might want to hear about what USC is all about from someone outside the team."

The D-line jock might not be the brightest kid in the classroom, but he had a good idea this was USC's way of skirting some NCAA rules. He half objected when Mr. Fuller invited him for this weekend in Vail, but the man just brushed off his concerns. "It's my own place, so I'm not paying anything for it. It's all kosher, Declan," he assured the young man.

Declan knew better, and at the very least there was the cost of the flights, but as he looked out the big plate glass window over the town and mountains and snow, he didn't care. Every bit of awkwardness of accepting Mr. Fuller's invitation disappeared in his awe at the view.

He felt a hand clasp his meaty shoulder. Craig Fuller wasn't as big as Declan's 245 pounds, but the man was a fit ex-water polo player and an inch taller than the jock's 6'3".

"That's the view that sold me on the place," he said, giving Declan's trap a gentle squeeze before relinquishing the grip. "You ski?"

The player looked at the man, who was almost movie-star handsome and had some gray mixing in with the dirty blond hair kept corporate-exec medium-short. "No, Mr. Fuller," he replied. Even if he was from Idaho, he was from the foothills and his family wasn't the sort to ski in the winter. "But I've snowboarded with my buddies some."

The man smiled. "Please, Declan, it's 'Craig.' I get enough 'Mr. Fuller' in the boardroom." The man stepped back but didn't take his eyes off the athlete as he casually undid the buttons of his button-down shirt. Declan could see the matching silvery-blond fur on the man's pecs as he untucked the tails. "We can hit the slopes first thing tomorrow... in the meantime, whaddya say we fire up the hot tub? I swear there's nothing better than that hot water in the cool mountain air."

Declan dumbly nodded. It had been a long flight, and a soak in the hot tub did sound nice. Besides, it was clear Mr Fuller - Craig - wanted to show off his luxury retreat.

The exec gave the jock a sly wink and went to pick up Declan's bag. "Here, I'll show you to your room," he said. "Make yourself at home while I get the tub going."

Declan followed. He didn't want to be under the spell of this rich guy, but he had to admit the guest bedroom was nicer than any place he'd been. Simple but luxurious. Craig set the bag down on a cushioned bench and turned to the jock with a friendly, paternal face.

"I sometimes take a quick rinse in the shower before getting in the tub," the man said, a statement that was clearly a request. "You should have everything you need," he nodded down to fluffy towels folded on the mid-century modern desk.

As Craig went off to get everything ready, Declan hit the shower. The warm water did feel great after a long day, and he looked forward even more to the hot tub. But when he got out he nervously realized he didn't pack swim trunks or anything. He figured the mesh football practice shorts he packed would do, so back in the guest room he slipped them on over his creamy-white naked, beefy bod.

The jock took a second to look at his reflection in the full-length mirror. He had some post-season heft around his midsection but otherwise was solid with what the last few years of bulking had done to his 19-year-old frame. Boulder sized shoulders, strong round pecs framed by his thin gold necklace, powerful legs.... Declan didn't like to be conceited but he was entering his prime as a player and he knew why USC wasn't the only school gunning for him ever since he put his name on the transfer portal for the 2019 season.

He took a minute to call home: "Yeah, Dad, it's great here... nah, he's just a regular dude, though a little richer than most guys.... he says he's gonna arrange for some ski lessons if I want... no, sir, just the bunny slopes, definitely don't want an injury... no, I know Dad... all right, good night, sir."

After he hung up, Declan realized his parents were suspicious about the whole set up. Declan knew he should be, too, but his instinct told him it was gonna be a blast of a weekend. Maybe if he made it to the pros he'd have lots of high-flying experiences like this. But for now, he just relished being out of Idaho, away from Boise and his remote, tiny hometown.

The jock slipped on his flip flops and padded down the hall and to the back balcony, where Craig stood, a towel wrapped around his waist, dipping his hand in the water to check the temperature. The man's body was fit and muscular. Not beefy like Declans but in-shape and almost sculpted, with just a hint of love-handles clinging to the abdomen. And along the belly and forearms, more of that blond fur to match his chest hair.

"Hey," Craig grinned as he looked up. "It's ready. Might seem too hot at first but with the cool air outside you can always sit on the ledge if it gets too much." And like that, the man dropped his towel and stepped on the step to climb in.

It hadn't occurred to Declan they'd be nude in the tub, but it was just the two guys and he figured there was no reason to be shy. Mr. Fuller sure wasn't... his genitals hanging heavy from the blond bush, whose hairiness formed a contrast with a mostly smooth meaty round ass a shade paler than his light California tan.

Declan slipped down his shorts and got an ego boost from Craig's approving glance at the size and heft of his soft dong, just before the jock sank into the bubbles.

"Fuck, that's nice," Declan sighed. Then he looked at Craig. "Sorry for the language, sir."

Craig chuckled. "I said make yourself at home, Declan. I meant it." His blue eyes twinkled and in the dim light Declan could make out the slight wrinkles and pores that made the man's youthful handsomeness look closer to his age. "And fuck, it is nice," the man added playfully.

Declan laughed. They made some small talk before Craig cleared the air.

"Listen, son, I'm not gonna give you the whole song-and-dance about why you should come to USC. I figure you have a half dozen coaches already doing that. This weekend's about relaxing and having fun... if that sounds OK to you."

Declan nodded. "Oh yeah. Definitely more fun than the foothills I'm used to," the jock said as he spread out wide in the water, his necklace hangin a little taut over the broad smooth chest.

Craig grinned and for the first time Declan picked up on the distinct vibe. He was used to the attention he would get from mothers at the football association events, not to mention sorority girls at Boise State. But Mr. Fuller was looking at him with the same knowing intensity, only a more masculine version. Declan couldn't help it. He started chubbing up beneath the bubbles.

"I like to get up here without the wife and kids sometimes," Craig said. And with impeccable timing the man's ankle brushed against Declan's calf. A quick nudge, plausible in its deniability. but it made the jock's prick firm up to complete erection.

Declan blushed, his pale cheeks growing pink, but that could have been the hot water, too.

"You treat all the jocks like this, bud?" he asked in a teasing manner, taking the liberty to address Craig as a friend and equal.

"Just the real talent, son," Craig assured him.

The defensive footballer was getting real turned on from the intimacy of being in the hot tub with this man, and the heavier eye contact. His eyes took in Craig's handsomeness and the strong knotted arms and shoulders and the way that chest fur was matted down from the water. Declan couldn't recall ever meeting a water polo player, or ex-water polo player but he decided then and there it was his favorite type.

The man's toe brushed against his calf again, and this type Declan pressed back, openly rubbing the man's shin with his leg. That brought a big smile to the alum's face. And now the guy's toe was traveling up Declan's meaty leg, sending shock waves to his young hard cock.

The jock had a few experiences with men under his belt but they'd been fumbling, secretive encounters. This... this was something else. Open, flirty, playful. It turned Declan on and thrilled him. His eyes locked on Craig's as he spread his legs wide and let the man's foot trace the inside of his lightly hairy thigh.

"Oh fuck," the defensive end let out, his cock rock hard beneath the water.

Craig's smile had gone replaced with a more determined, lusty look. "You like this, son?" he asked. A little concern to give Declan an out if he wanted, in case he was pushing too far.

Declan nodded, "God yeah," he chuckled nervously, then felt the man's toe nudge his heavy ballsac then trace up the base of his hard stalk.

The man's voice was smooth and mellow now, a sexy masculine tenor. "Come on, Declan. Sit up on the ledge... let me take care of this for you."

Declan was putting two and two together and realizing what this weekend was all about. Sexual bribery if Declan was into that sort of thing. Turns out, he was A-OK with it. The young football bull hoisted himself out of the water, drops slipping down his beef before the cool air made his nipples firm up. As he sat on the ledge, his legs spread to showcase the prime 8.5 inch teen dong, thick as a Red Bull can. It hung heavy over the water, his low hangers bouncing just about the ripple of the hot tub.

Craig's eyes went wide at seeing the jock's endowment, but he reacted with understatement. "That's a beaut, son," he said, gliding through the bubbling water to edge toward the sexy-shy Bull. With an excited gaze, the man reached out to wrap his fingers around the girth. Barely able to take his eyes off that massive prick, he looked up. "Just tell me how you like it, buddy... if you want me to go faster, or slower," he said. And like that, the water polo dad took the round head between his lips.

Declan let out a low moan when Craig sucked the mushroom head into his mouth. "Fuck, that's it... yes..." he breathed out, holding steady as dick leaked a heavy stream of precum, right as the daddy hollowed out his cheeks and sucked down.

The jock was in awe. This wasn't some co-ed blowjob, this was years of honed skill at work. And that knowledge fed Declan's primal ego.

"Nice and easy, daddy..." he said before stopping nervously, wondering if he'd gone too far.

Craig sensed his hesitation and pulled off, feeling that rigid fullness in his fingers. "It's OK, stud... you can go there if you want. It's your big weekend, buddy." And like that he resumed sucking, taking even a couple more inches with each mouth stroke.

"Fuck yes, Dad," Declan grunted, succumbing to the incest fantasy. "Work my hard son cock... Work for it, sir."

He was realizing the Trojans had sent a grade-A daddy stud with some pro skills. Particularly once Craig shifted the angle some and those remaining fat inches sank right in, to lodge in that tight DILF throat.

Declan's eyes went wide and his big chest puffed in excitement. No one had ever deep throated his monster dong. Not even close. And here was this corporate exec making a show of his sword-swallowing ability. That visual was almost as hot as the constriction of the man's gullet clenching against his girth.

Declan couldn't help it. Instinctively, his hand clamped down on the back of Craig's head and he thrust repeatedly, feeling the throat work around the shaft. "Fuck YES, that's it, man. All the way down, Dad... so fucking good for your jock."

Craig has to admit it was on the cusp of too much dong to take. This fucker was FAT and hard as well as long. And it was being force fed, in a not-gentle manner. Shy, sweet Declan had somehow taken back stage to this natural jock aggression. Tears streamed down Craig's cheeks as he strained to open his jaw and fight the gag reflex. But he knew his mission and knew he was lucky to get a weekend with a jock hung like this.

Pretty soon, the middle-aged stud got in a zone and a groove with the face fuck. He started enjoying that stuffed feeling in his throat, even, when Declan pulled his cock out fully, letting it pop out of the daddy's mouth. Declan grinned down at the DILF, and used a fat thumb to wipe away the tears. "Not too much for you, bud?" A little bashful now, but flushed and clearly loving it.

Craig looked up and caught his breath before flashing the Bull a game smile. "Your special weekend, son... tell your Dad how you wanna run the play." The man leaned in with a lewd swipe of the tongue along the heavy shaft. "I can take it, buddy."

While Craig fisted the oversized shaft, Declan smirked even wider now and pushed two fingers into the man's mouth, testing the give of his lips and the way Craig's tongue worked around the calloused fingers. "You're gonna be so good to me, aren't you, Dad?"

Craig got a glint in his eye and nodded. As Declan's fingers pull out he teased. "Just want you to give USC your due consideration, stud," he winked.

"Is that right?" Declan grinned. The jock could almost imagine the "Sex for Play Scandal Rocks USC" headline, given the rules Craig was breaking for the both of them. But it was just the two of them, in the privacy of this mountain cabin, and it turned him on that this 6'4" ex-jock was fucking his to use. For the weekend probably. At least for right now. With a surge of horniness, he angled his steely erection down and pushed past the man's wet eager lips.

He heard Craig's hungry grunt. Then a soft choke as that throat got used to Declan's size once more. The jock's thick fingers massaged the short blond-silver hair on the sides of Craig's head as he pumped in and out, working back to the full deep throating the two had achieved early. As worked up as the jock was, he was cautious at first, watching the alum to make sure he was OK, that Craig actually could take it.

Then something clicked in the older man and it was open sesame. And Declan was fucking on the perfect combo of tight wetness and openness. It all felt so good. Incredible even, and the defensive-line jock just wanted more of those sensations. Holding on tighter he fucked Craig's face faster, deep pumps of that 8.5 inch dong that made his heavy nuts slap against Craig's chin.

The man moaned, but the strong hands massaging Declan's thighs told the jock they were moans of sexual excitement. The jock's hips pumped faster, his glutes clenching in time. He was cumming now, hard.

"Holy shit!" he cried, leaning his head back and shoving all the way in as his balls felt like they were turning inside out to unload his heavy jock wad, delivering it right to Craig Fuller's belly.

He rode that nut and savored it. He'd NEVER had an orgasm that intense, and half it was the psychological dimension of the hard changing sex. But after taking a couple seconds to enjoy the aftershocks, his fingers massaging Craig's hair softly, he realized the poor man probably needed some air and a well-deserved break.

Quickly, but not too quickly, he extracted his spent dick, feeling the slurp of Craig's mouth as the man sucked down the excess saliva, and with it some cum dribbles from the tip of Declan's stalk.

"Fuck son," Craig said as he caught his breath. "I think you needed that."

You have no idea, Declan almost answered. But instead he sank down into the water again and kissed the hunky, handsome man. It was his first kiss with another man, and it felt right. The move surprised Craig, for sure, but he quickly melted into it, feeling Declan's signature approach of soft and overly eager. It worked for the dad, no doubt.

"No way am I gonna be able to get in a hot tub without throwing hard," Declan joked as they broke their kiss.

Craig had a thrilled expression on his face, like he was the newbie 19-year-old and Declan was the old pro at dude sex. Reaching down he wrapped his hand around that Bull cock, feeling it still rock hard. "You think you got another in you tonight, kiddo."

Declan was now taking the opportunity to feel up his host's hunky, fit body. "Damn, Craig... you have no idea."

****

It wasn't too early when Craig Fuller slipped out from the sheets, but it was winter dark out. He could hear Declan softly sleeping in the queen bed as Craig padded softly toward the master bathroom to rinse off the previous night's sex.

God, that Miles kid could fuck, the married man thought with a shudder as he relived the previous evening in his head. He'd met jocks not interested in sex with other men. And he'd met young studs who could be coaxed into getting some no-recip head. Craig had even occasionally hit the jackpot with a real player in the bedroom, often a water-polo prospect who loved man-on-man sex.

But he'd never encountered anyone quite like Declan... a shy newbie who was so game for everything. The corporate exec had walked the defensive end through giving his first rim job and fucking his first ass. The kid was a natural, feeding off the excitement and the casual roleplay and getting off when Craig teasingly called Declan his Young Bull.

Craig now stepped under the shower spray and soaped up. Reaching back between his smooth buns, he felt the tender, raw hole that was now stretched more than a little. He'd actually almost backed down when he first saw Declan's huge wang, but now he was glad he rose to the challenge. After the discomfort and struggle, that girth had powered Craig Fuller to two toe-curling cums last night. And in the process Declan had shot a couple of football-jock-sized loads up his guts.

As his fingers massaged soap around the pucker, some of that semen spilled out and landed with loud plops onto the shower tile.

"Jesus," Craig gasped, feeling impressed and more than a little slutty. Maybe Declan would want to stay inside all day rather than go skiing. "You're out of control, old boy," he laughed out loud, to no one but himself. Giving one final rinse he turned off the shower and stepped out into an oversized fluffy towel.

He was quiet as he could be as he turned out the bathroom light and stepped back into the master bedroom. Craig slipped on some briefs and made his way out, leaving the door ajar behind him. He fired up the coffee maker and picked his phone off the counter. A voicemail from his wife awaited, but he'd return that later. And a couple of texts from Clay Helton wondering how it was going.

"Pretty good Coach," he typed. "Let's just say if he signs some guys are gonna be VERY happy with his stats."

He set down the phone with a grin and padded back to the bedroom. Peeking in, he saw Declan stir with the morning dawn that seemed amplified by the snow cover outside.

"Hey," the jock greeted in his deep morning voice.

"Hey," Craig said. "Not sure if you drink coffee or how you take it," he offered.

"Cream, no sugar," the stud grunted, not fully awake.

"Coming right up, buddy."

When he returned with two mugs, Declan was sitting up in bed, his magnificent, strong chest on full display, unconcerned with the cooler air in the cabin. "You're the best, man," he said, with the chipperness of the previous evening now returning.

He took the mug from Craig and tossed out a compliment. "God you're so fucking hot. I almost thought last night was a dream."

"I take it you're OK with everything that happened," the man said, half flirting but also cautiously checking in. If Declan freaked out the next morning, he wouldn't be the first prospect to do so.

The jock took a sip of coffee then slid down the covers to show off that massive tool, rigid and lying against his lightly hairy belly. Like last night, those fat testicles dangled beneath the fat stalk.

"What do you think?" he laughed.

Craig lay in a position to match Declan's, only his full body was on top of the sheets. "I think it's insane you're hard like that after last night."

The defensive end shrugged. "Always wake up with morning wood."

"Can I help with that?" Craig grinned.

"Fuck yeah, Daddy," the athlete grunted, kicking down the sheets and spreading his meaty legs.

The business dad set down his mug and leaned over to start licking that amazing cock. Impossibly it seemed even bigger than the night before and just as rigid.

"Fuckin' A, buddy... suck that big Bull dick," Declan growled, tossing back the sex talk Craig had used on him the night before. "Jesus, you're a hot fucking cocksucker."

Even with the dom talk, there was a playfulness to Declan's love of sex that excited Craig. He worked more of those fat inches deeper into his throat, working up and down with clear skill.

"Aw... FUCK!" Declan hissed and his fingers now ran through the cocksucker's hair. Not face fucking like last night but savoring the man's ability. Letting Daddy do the work. He could feel his nuts twitch as Craig bobbed up and down all eight and a half girthy inches. If he kept that up, Declan would cum and son.

Craig was so into his efforts and his deep throating success that he at first didn't realize the signal to pull off. But now Declan was lifting his head off his lap. That beautiful dong was rock hard and covered in spit, inches away from his face and shining in the morning light. Craig would say Declan was like a porn star, but at that moment he was more. A young God of a Bull. Horny and in need.

"We didn't do doggy last night," the jock said simply. Round one had been missionary, the second one had Craig riding Declan cowboy.

Craig looked up. The Idaho stud was so cute, almost angelic with his bed head and his big body. "Just go easy, buddy," the man said. "Please."

"You got it," the jock hissed. He'd watched a lot of porn before and loved the primal nature of a man fucking another man from behind. He wanted to try that with Craig. Excitedly, he watched the ex-water polo player position his tall hunky body on all fours, and the position made the surprisingly smooth ass cheeks seem more impressively strong and round. Declan got behind and crouched down.

"Aw yeah, eat my ass, buddy..." Craig sighed as he felt Declan's tongue root around. It was like the hesitation of last night was gone, as the jock munched hole like a starved man. "Make your Dad want it..."

Declan slapped both round buns at the same time and started tongue fucking Craig's relaxed pucker. In all the rim job lasted maybe five minuted, but to both men it felt like an exquisite stopping of time.

Until the executive felt the cool air on his wet pucker and then a rough application of lube by Declan's thick callouses fingers. The application was without finesse, but Craig was horny now and enjoyed the rough probing, almost jabs, before the digits withdrew and he felt that huge blunt instrument press against his entrance.

"Coming in, Dad," Declan announced. "Slow.... there you go... open up, buddy..." The entry stung for sure, but after the initial breach, the penetration went far easier than the previous ones for Craig. The jock's hands were now massaging along the older man's back as more thick meat pressed in, up until a tight spot four inches in. "Come on, Fuller... I fucked you twice last night... you can do this bud..."

Craig bit his lip and willed himself to relax. It didn't work, the more he thought about it the more his bowels clenched and tried to repel the oversized invader.

Until they didn't. Somehow, suddenly, the man's ass flowered open for Declan, who sank balls deep.

"Oh fuck, man, that's hot," the jock enthused as he took a second to feel the sensations of bottoming out. "I love fucking you, Dad..."

The first thrusts were gentle and slow, even if Declan's grip on Craig's waist was firm, to the point of being tight. See sawing that shaft in and out, and gently pressing against the man's prostate in the process.

"Fuck me, son," Craig urged in response. "Show me what you got."

Declan puffed his chest out and felt the strength of the sex hormones pump through his arms. "Careful what you wish for, sir." He pulled out and jabbed in with a hard thrust.

"Fuck yeah," Craig growled in attempt to keep the sensations on the pleasurable side of the dividing line. Then came another shove. "Fuck me you goddamn Bull," he said, excited he was taking this massive cock.

That was all Declan needed. He threw his whole body into fucking Craig Fuller. Ass, legs, arms, core... everything to give deep rhythmic strokes in and out of the man's guts. He was living out the hottest porn fuck he'd ever watched and then some. And once Craig bucked his ass back, even a little, it was all the jock needed to go wild. Kicking apart the DILF's legs, he nailed the middle aged hunk flat to the mattress and just FUCKED.

The last night he'd tried to follow Craig's lead and had been eager to get the older man off, too. Now, he was gonna cum and every thought in his head had vanished next to that pure animal need. The two men were bouncing up and down on the mattress, Declan was nailing him so hard.

Then the jock felt himself orgasm, the tightness of Craig's ass now a little slicker with his seed. He slowed his thrusts but still rode out his cum. Then he collapsed, satisfied on the man's sinewed back.

"Tell me you liked that, too," the jock finally asked with concern as his 245 pounds of football beef rolled off Craig's tall body, the sticky slick dong slipping out from between those daddy buns. Casually, affectionally Declan ran his hand up the man's hamstrings and over the smooth melon-shaped ass cheek.

Craig nodded as he twisted his upper body so he could face his jock fucker. "God help me I did." He looked down at the sheets and realized he hadn't in fact cum yet. But he'd been so close, before Declan nearly fucked him unconscious. "I guess you like it a little rough, huh, buddy?"

Declan scooted his big bulk up to sit against the headboard again. His dick not going down completely, he relished the way this man twice his age looked lovingly at it. "Yeah, I guess I do. Don't get the chance to go wild like that normally." He got a sheepish look that had an impish quality just behind. "And you said I was calling the plays this weekend," he reminded Craig.

***

Declan returned to Boise drained. He hadn't even been able to come with that last blowjob before Craig drove him to the Vail airport, but neither men cared. It was the attempt that thrilled them both.

"Feel free to drop me a line, stud... anytime," Craig had instructed him with a pat on the leg as he dropped him off.

The defensive end was on cloud nine the whole flight back. Imagining his future playing career at USC come 2019, imagining what he'd look like in a red and gold Trojan uniform, looking forward to the warm California weather. Anticipating hooking up with Craig Fuller again. Declan would contact Clay Helton on Monday and sign the papers.

Only as the plane taxied and Declan turned on his phone there was a voicemail from a number he didn't recognize.

"Declan! This is Coach Cristobal from Oregon. We're really impressed with what you have to offer and would love to talk more. I have some business down in Hawaii next week and was wondering if you wanted to join me. You know, talk about Oregon Football and if it would be a good fit for you. Anyway, give me a call back when you get this message." The Coach then left his number. "Hope to hear from you buddy."

Declan grinned and leaned back in the roomy business class seat. As he spread his legs, he felt that meat firm up in his jeans.

[crewofthecreek]

Craig of the Creek - Season 4B Poster

Rough concept design by Benjamin Anders and Ben Levin

Designed by Benjamin Anders

Background designed by Cory Fuller

Painted by W. Scott Forbes

[nightingaelic]

how about the fnv companions(dlc included) meeting the courier's child years after the courier left the Mojave on their own?

"Your life was ours, which is with you.

Go on your journey. We go too."

~ John Fuller, "Lullaby"

There hadn't been much to go on, but what was there was enough. The courier had left an impression all across the wasteland, leaving more than footprints behind wherever they walked. They'd changed lives, towns, histories - you just had to know what to ask.

Eventually, their child found the right combinations of words, the right stories to tell to get them where they wanted to go. They punched the route into the map of the hand-me-down Pip-Boy they'd received and followed it, wondering with each step whether the one who'd given it to them had come this way. Whether they'd seen that same rock formation, met that same shopkeeper, listened to the same songs on the radio.

By the time they arrived at their destination they were dusty, tired, and more than a little beaten up by the dangers of the wasteland. But they were their parent's child, and the will to persist came easily to them. They approached the individual they'd sought and pushed their hat back. "Hello," they said with as much confidence as they could muster. "You don't know me, but you used to know Courier Six. I don't know if they ever told you, but I'm... they were..."

Arcade Israel Gannon: Arcade's jaw dropped. "You're... you were... how did they...?"

"Keep me under wraps?" The courier's child shrugged. "I guess they lived the kind of life that didn't seem like you could fit a kid into it."

Arcade couldn't help chuckling at that. "That... actually makes complete sense. I never would have guessed."

The levity was short-lived, though, as the researcher realized what this meant for the person standing in his tent. "They weren't around much for you, were they?"

The courier's child shook their head, and Arcade grimaced. He rubbed the back of his neck, then went to the desk where his notes on the Followers' latest project ideas were strewn. "After everything I told them about my own family... they never said a thing. What were you thinking, Six?"

His head snapped up in realization, and he looked back at the newcomer. "Lived. You said lived. Are they-?"

"No." The courier's child pressed their lips together. "Well, maybe. I don't think so. But I need help finding them, if only to see for myself."

"So you came here." Arcade shook his head. "This... I'll do what I can, of course, but if there's one thing your parent was good at, it was vanishing unexpectedly."

Craig Boone: Boone peered at them through his sunglasses, then tilted them down so he could get a better look. "Mmm," he said in acknowledgement.

"And I was just..." The courier's child was shaking in their boots under the sniper's impassive gaze. "Just wondering if... you'd maybe..."

Boone set his rifle aside and leaned back against one of Dinky the Dinosaur's teeth. "Breathe," he advised them.

The newcomer took a few deep breaths, eyeing him the whole time with obvious awe and misgiving. They knew his beret, it seemed.

"Better?" Boone asked after another minute.

"Thanks." The courier's child shook themselves out and drew up to their full height again. "I'm looking for them. People say you two used to travel together."

"We did," Boone admitted. "A long time ago, now."

"How long?"

Boone looked out over the rest of the dinosaur's teeth, toward the hills that had been empty of Legionaries for some time. "Too long," he said, shouldering his rifle again. "Talk."

Lily Bowen: Lily adjusted her goggles and peered at the courier's child. "Is that you, pumpkin?" she asked.

"Pumpkin?" the newcomer asked, puzzled.

"It is you." Lily swept them up in a hug that lifted them into the air. "You've been so naughty, dearie, going missing... you had your Grandma so worried!"

"Grandma?" the courier's child wheezed.

"Yes, pumpkin, your Grandma! Don't be silly now, there is much to do today." Lily gave them a final squish before settling them back on the ground. "Gather your things and come along. The bighorners need to be fed, and the fence in the back pasture needs rebuilding. Quickly, now, or Gail and her little lamb will be loose again before the day is out."

Raul Alfonso Tejada: There were tears in the ghoul's eyes as the newcomer stumbled through their introduction, and he clamped his hand over his mouth to keep from sobbing. "Niñe buene," he said when they were finished, feeling as though a miracle had descended to stand in front of him. "You look so much like them."

"Niñe buene," the courier's child murmured. They clearly didn't know the words, but Raul's tone was enough to hazard a guess. "You knew them well?"

"Better than some." Raul smiled and wiped his tears away before they could escape. "Not as well as others. But well enough. Más o menos."

"I... don't suppose you know where I can find them?"

Raul's face fell. "You don't know where they are?"

"No. I was hoping you might."

Raul cursed and looked around him. He snatched up his guns and hat from the chair near his workbench and began strapping some tool belts on. "Always needing your viejo to bail you out of trouble, Six," he muttered as he went. "Y tu niñe dragged into it too? Qué vergüenza."

Rose of Sharon Cassidy: "Oh, are you?" Cass set her glass down and looked the plucky youth over. "In looks, maybe. Got more to learn though, kid. Your parent knew better than to approach me after the kind of night I've been having."

"What kind of night have you been having?" they asked, bewildered.

Cass sighed. "The kind that ends with me passed out on this stool. Similar to the night I met your creator."

"My creat- oh." The courier's child sat down next to her. "I'm sorry."

"Sorry. Heh." Cass smirked. "They were full of apologies, too. Thought it would fix my caravan, my broken heart, the war... I'll give them this, it was an approach I never would've thought of. Was always better with my gun than with my words."

The courier's child clasped their hands on the bar. "Tell me."

"It's a long, sad story, kid."

"I've got time enough."

"Fine." Cass finished her drink and slammed the glass down on the counter. "But the next round's on you. And the one after that."

Veronica Santangelo: Veronica gasped. "You're their secret love child! I knew they had one lying around somewhere! Oh, come here!"

She snatched them up in a hug before they could stop her, squeezing them until they both saw stars. "God, you're just the spitting image of the courier," she reassured them when she finally let go. "Same eyes, same chin, same shoulders... wait, who's the other half of their love nest? They were pretty good at keeping secrets, when they put their mind to it, but I always said-"

"Can... can you slow down for a minute?" The courier's child straightened themselves out again. "I mean, I'm happy to meet you too, I guess, but we just met."

"Oh, sure." Veronica grinned sheepishly. "You just got me excited, is all. It's been an age since they came through, and they always managed to make my life interesting. How are they doing?"

The Scribe's face fell when she realized that the newcomer didn't know the answer. "Oh. I see. That's why you're here."

"Yep." The courier's child shrugged. "I thought... maybe..."

They squeaked when Veronica crushed them with another hug.

ED-E: The eyebot that had been milling about the Mojave Express outpost in Primm grew still in midair, scanning the newcomer repeatedly as if searching for something. The conclusion it arrived at brought joy into its circuitry, and it immediately dove straight for their chest.

The courier's child caught it in surprise, and ED-E trumpeted a triumphant sting from a pre-war television show. "Back on the... dusty trail?" it inquired, using the voices of long-dead actors.

The courier's child looked up in alarm. "What does it-?"

Johnson Nash, who had been watching from behind his counter, was overcome with laughter. "It means the bot's yours, now. Picked you itself. Go on, take it, it's been a spell since someone came through that door that ED-E felt connected to."

"ED-E." The courier's child released the eyebot gently, pushing it up to float at their eye level. "Pleased... pleased to meet you."

ED-E cooed.

Rex: The King smiled and turned to look down at the cyberdog that was napping alongside his chair. "Rexie, you've got a visitor."

The German shepherd yawned and stretched before leisurely greeting the newcomer. He sniffed their hand over a few times and whuffed softly, as if in approval.

"I take it you're looking for the courier?" the King asked, scratching the old dog's ruff with obvious affection.

The courier's child nodded. "It's important. But so far, nobody's been much help. A few of them pointed me here."

"That's because Rex here has a great nose and a long memory." The King patted Rex's brain dome and leaned forward in interest. "He'll suit you well, I think."

"You're giving him to me?"

"Loaning him out, more like." The King winked. "Give your parent my best, when you find them. It's been too long."

BONUS!

Benny Gecko: "Oh, I'd know that face anywhere," Benny assured them. "Younger, older, wig-chopped or chrome-plated. You're that courier's little beatnik."

"And you're the snake who tried to put them six feet under." The courier's child eyed the leader of the Chairmen with disapproval. "Tried and failed."

"That's ancient history, now." Benny crushed his cigarette out on a nearby ash tray and smirked. "As are they, last I heard. Come looking for your parent's blessing on your own life? Don't hold your breath, I ain't seen them, and New Vegas is better for it."

The courier's child took a threatening step forward. "What did you do to them?"

"Easy." Benny withdrew Maria from inside his coat, just to show them he wasn't worth the trouble. "Nothing, since that night in Goodsprings. Once is enough for me to learn a lesson, and I've kept my distance since."

The newcomer's ire dampened. "So you don't know where they've gone."

"Kid, if I knew the answer to that, I would be a much richer man." Benny sat back in his lounge chair. "There's no getting back inside House's casino without them."

Ulysses: "You've got their look," Ulysses admitted, without rising from his seat atop the canyon of the Divide. "The same spark of influence. The same hands of purpose."

The courier's child looked at their hands. "Um..."

"Shaped the land before you." Ulysses gestured at the canyon. "Cracked it where it was brittle, to show the weakness and the strength. Changed the road before walking it."

"The courier did this?" The newcomer's eyes widened in astonishment. "They never... no one ever..."

"The reality beneath the history." Ulysses nodded. "Few know the stories. Fewer still find the meaning. You seek it."

The courier's child shook the realization off and rubbed their temple. "Sorry, can you speak less like a villain in a radio play? I didn't come here to fulfill a prophecy or something, I came here to find the courier."

Ulysses tilted his head back to catch the Divide's wind in his hair. "Prophecies and villains. You even sound like them."

Roxie: Roxie nosed her pups away from where they had been nursing and rose unsteadily. She stepped forward to sniff their extended hand, one lip curled up in warning, but their scent convinced her that they were no threat to her little family. She licked her teeth and flopped back down in the middle of the puppies.

The courier's child crouched down and let the little ones greet them as well. There were six of them, tiny rapscallions who lacked their parents' cybernetics but had every bit of their verve. The concept of a purebred dog was extinct in post-war America, but thanks to the Denver Police Department's budget and the science of the Big Empty, here rolled three German shepherd puppies that were unaware of their own rarity.

"You're a brave one," the courier's child said softly to a little boy pup that was crawling over their boot. "Better be careful in the wasteland, or you'll wind up more dog meat than dog. Take care of him, mama."

Joshua Graham: The Burned Man waited patiently until they were finished, making no comment until they had stammered through their explanation. He set aside the book he'd been reading and looked them over. There was no mistaking the resemblance.

"'And thy seed shall be as the dust of the earth, and thou shalt spread abroad,'" he quoted. "''To the west, and to the east, and to the north, and to the south.' How long did it take you to find me?"

The courier's child shifted uncomfortably. "A while."

"Few know my whereabouts. Fewer still are brave enough to come calling. I assume you have need of something."

"I..." The ghost of an expression Graham recognized crossed their face. He'd seen it before, when the courier stood alone after the battle in Zion, standing knee-deep in the Virgin River with moonlight and blood splashed across their features. A resigned weariness.

"You are tired." Graham rose from his seat. "Go. See the men at the fire, and tell them you require food and a place to sleep. We can speak when you have rested."

They nodded gratefully, then turned and left his tent. Graham watched them go. Only when they were out of earshot did he finish the verse he'd begun. "'And in thee and in thy seed shall all the families of the earth be blessed.' I will do what I can for them, courier. As you did for me."

Follows-Chalk: Follows-Chalk clapped his hands to his cheeks. "Shaiss, you are! Hoi, owslandr!"

"Hoi?"

"Hi!" Follows-Chalk shook his head in delight. "Who knew the courier had a child out there in the world? Unbelievable. What are you doing here?"

"I... I came here looking for them." The courier's child shifted a little, awkward in their own forwardness. "They made themselves scarce, and I want to track them down."

"Then you came to the right place, owslandr." Follows-Chalk straightened his hat with self-importance. "I no longer follow chalk, despite my name. Now I follow real signs, real tracks. That's why you came here, right?"

"Partially." The courier's child smiled hesitantly. "I also heard you spent some time with them, and I wanted to know..."

"What they were like?" Follows-Chalk wrapped an arm around their shoulders and pulled them in. "Of course. Let me tell you about our adventures in Zion."

Waking Cloud: The warrior-mother of the Sorrows swept them up in a hug before they could continue, holding them tight as if she were greeting one of her own returning children. "Holadu, na'ne. You are most welcome, little one."

The courier's child tensed up at first, then relaxed when they realized this wasn't an attack. "I'm not that little."

"This is true." Waking Cloud released them and began to look them over with her eyes and hands. "Resilient. Strong. Tsagasee gave you their good bones."

"Tsagasee?"

"Your parent." Waking Cloud smiled. "They are within you and without. Written on your face, a ripple in the water."

The newcomer's hand went to their cheek. "Really? I barely... it's hard for me to remember."

"Come." Waking Cloud took their hand away and folded it in hers. "The Sorrows owe much to the courier, and their child is as one of ours. Eat with us, and I will tell you the stories we have kept."

Caesar: "No, they didn't." Caesar shifted on his throne, studying the newcomer. "But I suppose it was only a matter of time before they produced a child. What do you call yourself?"

The courier's child swallowed, eyeing the Praetorian Guard around the Legion's god made flesh. "Sorry, I... I'm nobody. I'm not them, that's for sure."

"If you were, I would have had your head as soon as you turned up," Caesar said sternly. "Years of service, of teaching the NCR lasting lessons and bringing the Mojave to heel, and then they up and vanish. Desertion is a crime punishable by death, and seeing as the courier isn't here to suffer the consequences of their actions..."

The look on his guest's face became too much, and Caesar began to chuckle. "Relax. I'm joking. Come, tell me what it is you're looking for. If it's your parent you want though, I'm afraid I won't be of much help. Even the best of my Frumentarii have been unable to find them."

Robert House: "Hmm." House looked them over. The newcomer bore a resemblance to his former employee that was undeniable, and potentially useful. "I fail to see how your parentage is any of my concern, valuable as my associate may have been."

"I'm not here to ask for a job," the courier's child said quickly. "I want to know what records you kept on them. Everything I know about them before... before Goodsprings is vague, but all of the people I've talked to said that if anyone had records about where they came from, who they were, it would be you. So here I am."

"I see." House called up the relevant information from his systems immediately and filled his senses with it. Known aliases, work histories, their modus operandi and preferred weaponry, it was all there. His own searches for the missing courier had all been fruitless, but there was only so far a securitron could go when investigating.

"I'll make you a deal." House began to write the files to a holotape and called forward one of the robots the courier had helped him upgrade some time ago. "I will give you what I have, but when you leave New Vegas, take Victor here with you. He can assist you in your journey."

"Why?"

"I have a vested interest in your parent's well-being. They know much that could prove to be important, in the coming years."

Yes Man: "You're their child, aren't you?" Yes Man's static happy face flipped across the Lucky 38's screens in a pixelated display of joy. "I am just tickled to meet you! They told me all about you!"

"They did?" The courier's child was taken aback. "You're... you're the first person who's had any idea that I exist."

"Technically, I am an artificial intelligence!" Yes Man corrected them. "The courier told me that I was never supposed to mention that they had you to anyone but them, but I'm guessing they never expected you to come here! It's actually very impressive that you did!"

"Thank you." The courier's child blushed. "Why didn't they want anyone to know about me?"

"To protect you, of course! It's the same reason they refused to tell me where they were going, the last time they left New Vegas!"

The newcomer's shoulders sank. "You don't know where they went, either?"

"I don't know for sure, but thanks to my probability matrices, I have a pretty good idea! Would you like me to tell you, or just give you a hint?"

Dog/God: "Courier," the nightkin mumbled.

"I'm not them." The newcomer shook their head. "I'm... I'm theirs, but I'm not them. Sorry."

"They live within you." The nightkin crouched down to look them straight in the eye. "Always. Part of you."

The courier's child was taken aback. "I... I guess?"

The nightkin grunted. "What do you want?"

"I need help finding them."

"Hmph." The nightkin straightened up again and nodded. "I will help."

Dean Domino: The old ghoul looked the newcomer over disdainfully. "The absolute last thing I need right now is a smaller version of that meddlesome mailman knocking on my dressing room door. What do you want, and why did you think you would be welcome here?"

"I don't need a welcome wagon rolled out, I just need information," the courier's child explained. "And you don't look particularly busy."

"My next show is in a half-hour," Dean grumbled. "You certainly are your parent's child. What happened to respecting the theatrical process? I suppose the bombs killed basic manners, as well - what do you want?"

The courier's child squared their shoulders. "You might be one of the last people who saw them before they disappeared. I want to know what happened in the Sierra Madre. I know you were there, so don't try to wriggle out of it, I just need-"

Dean laughed. "You have no idea what you're asking. It won't be done justice in a half-hour. Here."

He ducked back into his dressing room and emerged with a rumpled ticket. "One free admission. Buy a drink, and settle in until my set's done. Then we can talk about how your missing courier ruined my centuries-in-the-making plans."

Christine Royce: Christine stared at them, dumbfounded by the resemblance to the ghost who had freed her from the misty tendrils of the Sierra Madre. She hadn't seen them since they had struck out in different directions from that cursed place, but their features were etched into her being as deeply as the scars of the Big Empty.

"Are you okay?" they asked her, uneasy.

"Yes," Christine said quickly. She cleared her throat and tried to pitch the voice that wasn't hers up, closer to the one she'd had before she ran afoul of the Elder she'd hunted to the ends of the earth. "You are a surprise, that's all."

"So are you." The courier's child crossed their arms. "I heard from others that you never left the haunted casino, but here you are, hundreds of miles away."

Christine looked away. "That place wasn't mine to care for, anymore. Its siren song is over. Its gates are closed. And I left a life behind that needed to be resolved."

"Sure. In a way, that's what I'm trying to do." The courier's child sighed. "I need your help. Veronica Santangelo said you're the best tracker she knows. I need you to help me find my parent."