#I AM JUST SO NERVOUS I NEED TO FIND A PLACE FOR JANUARY!!!!
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I found a room for rent in a house very close to where I work, for even cheaper than what I pay for rent now, and I am like. pleaseeee please accept me into this residence I feel very nervous about it. I get kind of irked when rental listings say "looking for a young professional" this one didnt say anything of the sort but still I feel inadequate for being a random food service employee. I promise I'm responsible and respectable!!!!1!
#well i havent even seen the place in person but its 4 unrelated women living in a suburban house owned by a distant landlady#that seems like an ok living situation to me#but thats bc i currently live with my landlady and her boyfriend im getting sick of their ''being a couple in my presence'' shit#so I want to live somewhere where we are all a bit aloof#unless oh god these people want me to be friendly. but the ad didnt say nothing about that...#I AM JUST SO NERVOUS I NEED TO FIND A PLACE FOR JANUARY!!!!#EEEEEE
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Creation word list PART 1
(link to part two)
Niki's QSMP stream - Thursday, January 18th, 2024 :
"We are not done yet." x3 (He says this as soon as he sees Niki for the second time)
"Take me to shells." x2
"Shells."
"Shells now."
"Small little shells."
"Main shells."
"Your shell." (Speaking to Niki)
"Pancake shell." (Still speaking to Niki, now talking about Em)
"Friend for now."
"Please." (Was told the eggs were in an area he couldn't access/wasn't allowed in)
"Make right for my wrong."
"To the shells."
"You-you, are-are; shellkeeper." (Longer pause between the second 'are' and 'shellkeeper')
"You-you, are-are, shellkeeper." (Talking to/about Niki)
"Good news."
"Where is shells now?"
"Disappointed." (Was told, again, he couldn't see them)
"Keeper, I am; disappointed."
"Keeper, I am disappointed in you."
"It will be okay."
"It would be okay." x3
"We would be okay."
"You would be okay." x2
"The shells would be okay." (Is he trying to convince her??)
"Why are you worried?"
"Must point." (After being asked why he wanted to see the eggs in the first place (strange little power seen before, whoever he points at seems to disconnect) )
"Must point again."
"Fear not shellkeeper, it is safe."
"Here, there, everywhere."
"Here; there; everywhere." (Much longer pauses)
"Thank you dear shellkeeper."
"Shellkeeper, why?" (After being laughed at briefly)
"I thought; friend, no?"
"You do not seem sure." (After Niki assured him that they were friends)
"I can point at you if needed, keeper." (Unsure if this is a threat or an offer)
"Why?" (After being told by Niki that she would get nervous/upset if he did)
"I will be fine, what are you?" x2
"Promise me, dear keeper." (After Niki assured him she was fine as well)
"I will be fine, you will be fine."
"Shells please." x4
"Sick." (After being denied access to the eggs AGAIN)
"Sick you will be." x2
"I will not hurt you."
"Never." x2 (After being asked if he would hurt the eggs)
"Good news." (After being asked why he was here)
"Very good news."
"Only one very." (Correcting Niki)
"Please quote me correctly."
"Forgiven." (After Niki said sorry)
"Chunk." (After being asked where he was from, the word itself most likely referring to the Tubchunk)
"Unimportant." x3 (He was asked a multitude of questions, "are you from the tubchunk", "do you know tubbo", "are you tubbo", "is this what tubbos been working on", so I'm unsure which ones he's answering to)
"Unimportant." (I would usually group this with the one above considering they're the same word within a short span of time, but this one was spoken right after Niki asked what he wanted to do with the eggs)
"Unimportant."
"I am important." x2
"Why must you hurt me? Why must you hate me? Why must you? Do I need this? Is this for me? Do I need pain? Am I important?" (After he couldn't find a way to the eggs)
"We are not done yet." (Now talking to Empanada, who warped to them)
"Shell." x3 (Still talking to Em)
"Shell, I must share news." x2
"Are you important?" (Asking Em)
"Shell, are you important?"
"In everything?" (After being told that Em is important to her friends and family)
"What is everything to you?"
"So you are important?"
"This is good." (After being given an "I guess so" from Em in response to his previous question)
"I wish one day to be important like you are."
"Important." x4 (After being told he is important. The last two "important"s are said strangely, so I'm not sure if he's saying "I important" or just "important")
"I point out." x4
"I point now."
"Please be pointed at." (He says this just before pointing at and disconnecting Em)
"Thank you shellkeeper."
"In 60 seconds." (After being asked to bring Em back)
"Are you important, shellkeeper?"
"Perfect." (After Niki tells him she thinks everyone is important, after saying this he would bring Em back)
"Are to/too/two are important./?" (It's very hard to decipher what he says here, so I'm unsure if this is a statement or a question or otherwise)
"Thank you." (After Em tells him that the Morning Crew and Sunny loves him (she didn't know he wasn't Tubbo at the time))
"I am so pleased."
"What is king?" x3 (After Em calls him king)
"Need a home." (After Niki asked him if there was anything he wanted/needed)
"For important."
"Please do not talk of; creator." (After Em asks if he's Tubbo or someone else)
"Shell." x2 (Trying to get Em's attention)
"Do not tell creator." (Creator = Tubbo)
"Outside must not; be on here." (Unsure whether or not he says "be on here" or "beyond here")
"Creator will not be mad, just will have to start over."
"When start over, I end." (I assume it's either like a full reset and then completely remaking the code, or a factory reset that wipes any memories or anything else)
"I end forever."
"I am important."
"I do not want to end."
"Let's go somewhere." (He says this before he starts walking off)
"Not finished; I struggle." (I assume he's referring to himself being most likely 'incomplete')
"The jump, keeper." (After Niki asks what he struggles with)
"You, keeper."
"I struggle with jump."
"Must not wet." (He says this after he sees a river, so I assume he's a robot of some kind)
"No fear but scar."
"Indeed." (After being asked by Niki if the water hurts him)
"Indeed." (Repeated after Niki asks him if he knows where he's going)
"It hurts; my feet." (After he sits down on the beach and his feet are dangling in the water)
"Indeed." (Confirming he feels better after Niki places scaffolding under his feet so they aren't touching the water anymore)
"You are sick?"
"I could tell." (Niki was sick during this and he says this after she confirms that she is sick. Also I hope she feels better soon <33)
"I said you would become sick."
"No, I just knew." (After Niki asks if he got her sick)
"Unimportant." (After being asked how he knew)
"Creator; and shells." (After being asked what is important)
"Only one is not." (Talking about the eggs)
"Unimportant." (He was asked two different questions before he answered, so I'm not sure which one he was answering to, "which shell isn't important?" or "are you here to protect the eggs?")
"The shell that is not." (Niki asks him again, "which shell isn't important", and he seems to dodge the question)
"I do." (When asked if he knows the name of the egg that isn't important)
"No." (When asked if he could give Niki the name of the egg)
"Must not." (When he was asked why he can't give the name)
"Priority of protection is private." (When he was asked again why he couldn't give the name)
"Some come first, some come after."
"Creator says the list must not release."
"Unimportant." (When asked if he is here to protect the eggs)
"To some." (After Niki said "I think it's very important")
"Purpose." (After being asked if it is unimportant to him)
"Please do not ask of the list."
"Feelings will hurt if so."
"Shell feelings." (After Niki asked for clarification on who's feelings, insinuating the list is private partially because the eggs might get upset if they find out who's first and/or last)
"Yes." x14 (Said very, VERY fast and in quick succession in response to Niki asking him if there was any way she could help)
"Unable to agree."
"Yes." x14 (Said very fast again when asked if there was a conflict)
"One is equal to one, shell does not equal shell."
#qsmp#qsmp niki#qsmp empanada#qsmp creation#this was ordered from the first lines he said (top) to the last ones so far (bottom)#All of these were said during Nikis most recent Qsmp stream on twitch#if anything doesn't look right or I got a few lines wrong#will continue with part two#Qsmp Creation word list#Worm Rambles
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Catch Our Breath and Let Go - Will Graham Imagine [Hannibal]
Title: Catch Our Breath and Let Go
Pairing: Will Graham X Reader
Based On: Wires
Word Count: 1,170 words
Warning(s): none that I know of
Summary: (Y/n) and Will have worked together for a long time now. As time goes on, the pair seemingly dance around each other. When the people stuck working with them get tired of watching it, Will and (Y/n) find themselves forced to confront how they feel.
Author's Note: This is the first imagine of three. It's part of a writing challenge that I'm doing for the "Yearbook" series that Sleeping at Last did. There are more details on that masterlist (linked just below). I hope that you enjoy.
Part Two of January [Release Date: 2/22/2023]
Part Three of January [Release Date: 2/24/2023]
YEARBOOK - SLEEPING AT LAST WRITING CHALLENGE MASTERLIST
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Beverly Katz was probably my best friend.
The two of us clicked as soon as I started working in the lab with her. She did everything in her power to make me feel completely at home when I first got there. It was nice to know that I had someone to lean on through it all.
Maybe that was why Jimmy, Brian, and her thought that she was the best person to send to talk to me that day.
"Can I ask you about something," she asked while I was placing a slide under a microscope.
"Sure," I replied, still focused on what I was examining.
"What's going on with you and Will?"
"Interesting conversation to have while examining crime scene evidence," I muttered, adjusting the height of the platform. "Nothing is going on between me and Will."
"You sure?"
"Should I not be?"
I heard her chuckle behind me. I leaned away from the lens and looked at her. "What?"
"You're joking, right," she asked. I raised an eyebrow at her. "Oh, you're not."
"That doesn't help me understand what you're talking about."
"Well, it's just that you and Will seem a lot... closer than he is with anyone else."
"Why?"
"You want the list in chronological order or alphabetical order?"
I scoffed. "Screw you, Bev."
I did have feelings for Will. I just didn't think it was anyone else's business. Mostly because I was convinced that if I ignored them, then they'd go away. Will never seemed like one who would focus on things like that. It was just easier to never worry about it.
Which meant never bringing it up to anyone.
"Let's start with whatever happened at that last crime scene," she continued, even though I turned away from her again. "You stumbled and he reacted so fast. He was paying such close attention to you that he probably knew that you tripped before you did."
I shook my head. "He was being nice."
"That's why you both stood there staring at each other like idiots for a solid minute or two before he let you go?"
"It's nothing."
"Alright, let's talk about the dog hunt," she leaned on the counter next to me. "How long did you spend helping him get that stray dog to his house?"
I turned to her. "Not that long!"
"You went over at like ten o'clock at night."
I groaned. "Shut up already."
"No, no, because I have one more. The coffee trade."
"Did Jimmy come up with the special title for that? It sounds like a Jimmy title."
"Hush," she waved my question off. "You two trade who buys coffee for the other. You have it down to a perfect schedule."
"Yeah, whatever-"
"You buy coffee on Thursday. He buys them on Mondays and every other week on Wednesdays."
"You sound like a stalker when you recite shit like that."
I stepped around her to grab something.
"Listen. Brian and Jimmy... and me... are tired of watching you and Will stare at each other like nervous puppy dogs," she shrugged. "You might not see it, but I can."
I looked over her shoulder. "That's enough-"
"You two both need to hurry up and do something about it because I am not dealing with Jack questioning me about it."
"Bev, stop-"
"Why can't you just admit that there could be something there? Are you scared? That's okay. I'm pretty sure Will is too-"
"Please stop!" I snapped. "Turn around."
She turned around to see Will with Jimmy and Brian, who had clearly stopped in the middle of their conversation. Oh God, they had been doing the same thing to him.
Bev looked back at me. "Shit, listen-"
"Will, can I talk to you," I asked, stopping Bev in her tracks.
I didn't wait for Will to speak up before I got up to walk out. I awkwardly asked the others to take care of what I had been looking at.
I couldn't even get myself to look at Will before we were out in the hall. Even then, I found it difficult.
He always made me nervous. Every time I looked at him, it felt like there was something sitting between us. Like the tension grew heavy enough to take up physical space. I was terrified of what would happen if we were to do something about it. Not because I thought something would go wrong or anything. I just was.
A very normal part of being human in situations like this. But that didn't change how ridiculous it felt.
"What did you want to talk about," Will asked, snapping me out of my line of nervous thoughts.
"I... I need you to know that I had nothing to do with... whatever their plan was," I said. "I wouldn't force you into a conversation that was so invasive and almost creepy and... I just wouldn't."
"I didn't think that you did."
It took me a second to nod. "Good. Good. Okay."
There was a long pause between us. I saw something on Will's face change. It looked like he was considering if he should say something. His jaw shifted a bit, his eyebrows furrowed a little more. Will and I had been friends for a while now; I knew the signs.
"Were they telling the truth," he finally asked. "About... how you felt?"
I felt every possible response get caught in my throat.
I had spent such a long time hiding any and all signs that I could possibly be anything more than a co-worker and a friend. And now, I was being asked by the man himself.
It almost felt like a trick.
So, I answered a question with a question, "What would happen if I said yes?"
I saw a grin pull at the corners of Will's lips.
The silence surrounded us again.
He slowly stepped closer to me. I watched him closely, trying to ignore how much faster my heart was beating now.
He only turned away from me to look around the hall. It was a rare moment when there weren't people running around all the time. I didn't bother to look away. Mostly because I didn't want to.
He looked at me again. He let out a nervous chuckle as he did. I did the same thing.
He leaned forward slowly.
I could see him hesitating. Ready to stop the moment that he thought I was uncomfortable.
I leaned in after a moment to close the distance.
It was awkward, nervous. Almost innocent. I had expected whatever sparked between us to be an explosion or a wildfire. But it wasn't. It was this comforting wave of warmth that started in my face and spread through the rest of my body slowly.
Will pulled away first.
"Was that okay," he asked.
"Yeah," I nodded. "Yeah, it was... more than okay."
I reached out and touched his hand, smiling at him.
He smiled back at me.
This was the beginning of something brilliant.
I could just tell.
------------------------
Navigation Guide
What I Write For
Some Original Characters
#will graham x reader#will graham imagine#will graham fanfiction#imagine#fanfiction#x reader#hannibal imagine#hannibal x reader#hannibal fanfiction
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“𝐈’𝐦 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚���𝐬 𝐬𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐥, 𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐥, 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐬 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐰.”
Pairing ~ CG Changbin x AFAB Reader x CG Bangchan
Genre ~ fluff
!!warnings!! little space/age regression
Word Count ~ 1,706
Author’s Note ~ I love writing cute stuff like this. Also, I meant to post this on the last day of 2022, but instead, I'm posting it on the first day of January. That means this is my first post of the year! Whoop! I apologize for how late this, I had finals and exams and family events to attend. I hope this is good for you.
Requested ~ Yes!
Check out my Stray Kids Masterlist
Support me by buying me a coffee ☕️
link for picture
You’re living life for sure. Changbin and Chan never stop comforting you, their sweet, little angel.
You were lucky to have the most caring boyfriends in the world, but you were even luckier that they took care of you so sweetly. They were the best you ever had because all the rest were shit.
You always struggled with caregivers, or finding the right ones at least. They always treated you not so well, some of them way worse than the others, but Changbin and Chan treated you gently, like thin glass.
Now sometimes you were not so small. There were times when you weren’t little, and they still treated you as such making you feel bombarded and upset. Little space was a coping mechanism, and it can’t be one if you’re always small. You do feel grown up sometimes.
Now Chan and Changbin never meant harm, they just wanted to take care of you properly because they love you. They would be understanding, you knew that, but you weren’t sure how to confront them.
Many options went through your head, but you landed on the simplest idea: talking with them during dinner. It’s easy. The three of you sitting in the same place, over food so no one is grumpy, and peacefully at home. There was no losing in this situation, besides Changbin and Chan getting mad at you. Which they wouldn’t.
Right?
You didn’t expect work to be shit that day. You really didn’t. You thought it would be an ordinary day, but of course on the way you needed to have a serious conversation with your boyfriends WORK HAD TO RUIN IT.
Goddamn retail.
But life must go on, and you’d normally fall into little space after a long crap day of socializing more than you could handle, but you knew you had to talk to them. You knew you couldn’t have a serious talk like that if you were small. So you tried to struggle through it.
Hours passed after you clocked out and headed home. You were lying in your bed in your room trying to think about how to start the conversation. Dinner was almost done, and you were getting more nervous as the time passed. Chan was making spaghetti aglio e oil because Changbin had been craving it since a few nights ago.
After you pondered a few more thoughts, Chan called to tell you that dinner was finished. You slowly got out of bed, hands starting to tremble as confrontation arose. But you went. You went to the kitchen where Changbin happily made your plate and set it on the dining room table as you entered. You took your seat, on the end as always and the two men faced each other. Before either of them could strike up the conversation you went for it, knowing it had to be done or else it wouldn’t be done at all.
“We gotta talk.” They stopped and looked at you with confusion and concern. You were never serious. What’s going on? They thought. They looked at each other, trying to decipher what this could be about, having no clue at all.
Changbin broke the ice first.
“What about, baby?”
You took a deep breath in and out. They continued to stare at you.
“I am not always in little space, but the both of you continue to treat me like I am twenty four seven. I need the both of you to understand that it is a coping mechanism for me, and it cannot be one if I’m always in it. Then it just becomes who I am. There are times when I feel big, like an adult, but those feelings are ignored whenever the two of you are with me. I really wish you guys wouldn’t treat me so small all the time because I can’t grow if neither of you help me.”
Then it was quiet. Normally you’d feel awful at a confrontation like that, apologizing immediately after the fact and disregarding your feelings. But you stood your ground. You felt safe enough to.
Changbin and Chan looked at each other.
Chan then spoke, “Okay, we get that. We will do better about how we treat you.”
“Yeah, we never want you to feel uncomfortable or unhappy with us around. We don’t try to make you feel that way.” Changbin said.
“I know! I just… maybe we could come up with a way to say or signal that I feel small?” You give an idea to help move the situation along.
“That could totally work!” Chan exclaimed, and Changbin nodded in agreement.
“What kind of signal would you do?” Changbin asked.
You thought for a moment, not thinking this far into the plan. The boys began to eat as you still pondered about a possible signal. You ate, and all of you were silent while you still thought.
“Maybe I could do the spy signal thing? When they put their finger on the side of their nose and swipe it?” You asked. Chan smiled at you. “Sounds good to me.” The two men smiled and you finished eating at the table.
However, your bad day never left your head. As much as you wanted to be small from the long and tiring shift you worked, you felt bad because you just had an entire discussion about how you didn’t always feel small. You didn’t want them to be mad at you for completely shifting perspectives from five minutes ago, but you were also too exhausted to even try and be an adult. You just wanted to be taken care of, and now you feel like you can’t.
Luckily, Chan and Changbin knew better. They would always take care of you, no matter what. They’d never get mad at you for something as small as that.
Later that night, when the sky darkened, you were on the couch watching random YouTube videos while Changbin and Chan were in the other room discussing.
“I know we discussed the whole signal thing, but I think the both of us can tell when Y/N is little.” Changbin whispered to Chan.
“Yeah, we can. I think they’re little right now. I noticed they were upset after coming home from work. Should we wait for the signal? Or should we just take care of her?” Chan asked, nervous he’d cross the boundaries you just set.
“Let’s wait for the signal. Until then, let’s just cuddle with her and see what happens, yeah?” Changbin said. “Sounds good.” They shared a small kiss before returning to the living room to find you there, snuggled in a fuzzy blanket on the brink of falling asleep.
The men nodded at each other before walking closer.
“Hey, baby.” Chan cooed. You stirred. “Can we sit with ya?” He asked. You turned, mumbling a soft “mhm” before sitting up for a brief moment. Chan and Changbin sat next to each other, and you moved so that you were lying on both of their laps. Chan put his fingers through your hair while Changbin caressed you softly. Chan put his other arm around Changbin, and he snuggled closer into his touch while your eyes softly closed.
While you were dozed off, Chan looked over and smiled and turned his head towards Changbin. “She’s out.” He said. Changbin showed a soft smile.
An hour had passed, and you woke up groggily. Your hair was messy, and your head felt dazed from lying on Chan’s hard thighs. As you moved to lie on your back, Chan and Changbin looked at you. Changbin spoke, “Hey, Y/N.” Your name. The only time they called you that was when you weren’t little. Which was very, very rare. It felt weird hearing it. But in your lost and exhausted state you vaguely remembered the discussion you had hours ago.
Very gently, you laid back down, brought a finger to your nose, and softly swiped it across.
That caused Changbin and Chan’s faces to light up. They immediately moved, so that Changbin could sweep you into his arms and carry you to the one shared room you all have. You snuggled closer into his chest and quietly let his name fall out of your mouth.
“Binnie…”
“Yes, little one?”
“I’m sleepy.”
“I know, baby.”
“Binnie and Channie take me to sleep?”
“Yes, babygirl.” Chan said.
“Otay, Channie.”
“We can’t let you go to sleep without taking care of you first.” Changbin said.
“But sleepy!” You whined.
“No buts, baby. You know better.” Chan scolded.
“I know…” You frowned.
Changbin placed you in the middle of the king sized bed in the middle of your shared room. He moved to grab your fluffy pajama pants and a small tank top to match. They helped you change into the clothes. Then they moved you to the bathroom, where you all brushed your teeth and hair. They helped you rinse off, but by the time you completed them, you weren’t tired anymore.
As you all walked back into the bedroom, you jumped around. Chan looked at Changbin. “She’s not tired anymore.” He muttered. Changbin just chuckled. “She’ll be tired in a bit. Just give her a sec.”
You ran into your room and jumped onto the bed, latching onto your stuffed bunny. “I’m not sleepy anymore!” You said loudly. “Okay, baby.” Changbin stated.
Chan grabbed the covers and pulled them back. “Hey, hun, can you move against the headboard?” Chan asked. You listened and moved. Then he brought the covers over your legs. “But Channie, I’m not tired.” You stated. “I know, but we’re gonna relax for a bit.”
“Otay, Channie.”
It was a trick. They were good at tricking you into bed. Before you could stop them they had you wrapped in their arms tucked into bed comfortably. You were stuck between the two, while you felt your eyes getting heavy again while they told you a story from the top of their heads. Eventually you laid back, unable to keep your eyes open any longer.
The two men smiled at each other, both of them giving you a kiss on the head goodnight, and a kiss to each other before turning off the lights and heading to bed.
#stray kids#skz#stray#changbin#seo changbin#bangchan#chan#fanfic#age regression#caregiver#sweet#skz fanfic#writer#coping skills#little space
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I am here for you
Austin x autistic reader
A/n : Austin and reader meet for the first time and start a relationship. Austin learned about readers autism and is supportive. And both of you support each other. And you can imagine the reader however you want to. And this takes place after Austin won his golden glob back in January of this year.
Warning: kissing and spelling mistakes. If I missed something let me know.
Y/n pov
Austin and I just work well together. We support each other, and we just are there for one another. That is one of the reasons that our relationship works. I support is work and everything he does. And he supports me. Also Austin is fully aware of my autism. I was very clear about it at a moment in the relationship. When I told Austin about being autistic he was just very supportive. And just wanted to be there when I need him. It wasn’t even a deal breaker. Also if my autism was a deal breaker, I would not have kept dating Austin until this moment. So I was very happy wen Austin reaction to my autistic self was a good reaction. I just love Austin for how he, I feel very lucky to have found him. And sharing my life with him.
I just love so much about him. His gorgeous eyes and his smile. Even his personality is my favorite. I didn’t just fall in love with his physical appearance, the more I got to know him the sparks were forming more and more.
The sparks were there for me when I shared my first kiss with Austin. It was magical. And felt so special to share it with him. That kiss with Austin was my first true loves kiss. Sparks were flying all around us at my end. Nothing in the world could separate us, is what I believe.
And the day we share ‘I Love You’ it was amazing, because we both felt it. I have magical moments with Austin. And I am so thankful I meet him.
I was once in my life nervous about not finding someone that would get me and love me for being me. Then I met Austin and all my doubts when a way.
Austin pov
My relationship with y/n, it just works so well for the both of us. We support each other. And I love her so much, I help her when she need help. Just like when I need help she helps me. I fell for y/n because I saw a sweet genuine woman. And I still see that to this day. I learned everything that she is okay with and I don’t do stuff she isn’t comfortable with. I help her when she as a meltdown and needs someone to be their and help her. I respect her so much for how she is. Our relationship works for the both of us.
Y/n pov
Today me and Austin are just staying inside and relaxing. The weather outside is raining and gloomy. So we we’re having a movie day. I just love every moment that we can spend together as a couple.
At the moment “Blue Hawaii (1961)” was playing. And during this movie I take small glimpses on Austin. Austin had his arm around my shoulders, and I just lay my head on his shoulder. I think about all the good times we have had together. We have been dating exactly for a year, just 3 days ago we celebrated our anniversary. Today was one of Austin day off from work so we spent some quality time together.
After the movie was over, and in the moment of silence that was in this moment. I just know I wanted to share my feelings for Austin. I know he was fully aware of my feelings. But I still share them with him. Because i know we both love each other.
“ Austin, have I ever told you how much I love you. And I am so thankful that we meet. You are an amazing boyfriend and person.” I told him while looking into his beautiful blue eyes. And every word I said I meant.
“ y/n I love you too. And your just an amazing person as well. I am so thankful for meeting you and that we fell in love. You are an amazing girlfriend.” Austin told me.
We both started to move our lips together and shared a kiss. Sparks were flying, it was mesmerizing. We then separate from our kiss and I just looked into his eyes and knew this is the person for me.
“ Austin I believe truly with my heart that your the person for me. I love you Austin. And I will always be here for you.”
“Y/n I also believe that you are the person for me. I love you too y/n. And I know you will always be here for me. And I will also always be here for you y/n.”
After some time we were both starting to get tired, so we go to bed. I  immediately pass out as soon as possible when I lay down on the queen size bed.
Next day
Austin pov
Next day I wake up and se my lovely girlfriend laying next to me on her side of the bed. I get up and go to the kitchen. I make a cup for coffee, to wake a bit more up. After drinking my coffee I decided to make my girlfriend a cup of green tea. Since she doesn’t really drink coffee. While making the tea I heard steps coming towards the kitchen, and when I turned my head around I see my girlfriend sitting down at the kitchen table. I give her a morning kiss and her tea. We both decided to have some toast for breakfast. Today i had my interview on Jimmy Fallon. I had just won my golden glob just some days ago. So until i go to my  appearance on Jimmy Fallon, I hope to just get some hanging out time with y/n. If she isn’t to busy with her writing. But I am so proud of her for following her dreams.
Y/n pov
I am just in this moment enjoying my morning with Austin. I also have some work to finish up today. I work as a author. I have published 5 of my books. But I have more written. I actually enjoy my job. I have always loved writing since I was a kid. It has always been my keen interest. Austin has also been supportive of my writing career. I actually meet Austin at a book store I was having a public reading at. And we went to a cafe afterwards. And that moment started our relationship. And then he asked me to be his girlfriend and I said yes.
I still to this moment believe we were made for each other. I believe we fit together for one a other.
After we had breakfast and finished our coffee and tea. I to go finish up some of my writing so I can have some time with Austin before he goes to his interview.
I get as much done as I can and then it is time for lunch. And I decided I wanted to watch some tv with Austin and eat lunch together.
“I love you Austin Butler.”
I love you y/n y/l/n”
Thanks for reading. Hope you enjoy. I am sorry it took so long for me to publish this. I try my best to make my fanfics as good as I can. And I try to write when I get the inspiration in that moment. So hope you enjoy reading this. And feel free to give me some feedback. And I wanted to write with an autistic reader since it has been a while.
🩷😃👍🏻🌸🖤
Grace
#austinstyles#austinstyles writing#austin butler#request are open#austin butler fanfiction#autistic reader#austin butler fic#austin butler fanfic#fanfic#fanfiction#autistic fanfic#multifandom writer#austin butler x reader#austin butler x y/n
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Malex Fic - Thanks that was fun
I decided to try the 2023 Year of the OTP Event and of course I am late on the first month. In my defense this is the longest Malex fic I’ve written. For January, I choose the mission fic prompt.
This is canon divergent fic that takes place at the same time as S1. Alex and Michael were never together in high school. Michael didn't take the blame for the murders so while the cover up still happened, Isobel believes she killed Rosa, Kate and Jasmine. She isn't married to Noah and is just starting to date him. There are reference to canon genocide and past Miluca (although it happens before Malex in this universe).
The mission is a honeypot mission where Michael is sent in to find out what Alex knows about his father. Guess who falls in love?
Title is from the Barenaked Ladies song of the same name.
Thanks that was fun on AO3
“Alex Manes is back in town,” Isobel corners Michael between the bathrooms at the Wild Pony.
“I know,” he replies with a roll of his eyes. “It was kind of hard to miss with the whole parade and all.”
“I found out he’s looking for someone to do some maintenance around his house, and you need to get the job.”
“Why? I’m not that hard up for cash.” He kind of is, but he doesn’t want to admit that to Isobel. Also, seeing Alex for the first time since graduation brought back memories of the crush he’d had on him in high school. He tried flirting a few times back then, but Alex never responded. When Alex enlisted the spring before graduation, Michael had backed off. Then everything happened with Isobel, and staging an accident to cover up the murders and helping Isobel deal with what she had done had driven any thoughts of Alex right out of his head. It wasn’t a time he wanted to remember.
“Look, we all know his father’s up to something,” Isobel reminds him.
Michael nods because Jesse Manes is suspicious as hell-his career in the Air Force which somehow never takes him out of Roswell, the strange way he speaks about the rumors surrounding the 1947 crash and the way he throws his weight around raises a lot of red flags. He’s been worse the last few years, lurking around and asking questions.
“Well, he and Alex weren’t exactly buddy-buddy during the whole planning process and parade, but there was some weird tension between them. I think Alex knows what his father’s up to, and this is our best chance to find out. You,” Isobel points to him and smiles in a way that makes Michael very nervous, “are going to our honeypot.”
“Come on, Iz, you can’t be serious,” Michael groans.
“Well, it can’t be me,” Isobel waves a hand up and down her body. “I am definitely not his type. And Max is too uptight to explore his options so that leaves you, my ruggedly handsome, bisexual brother.”
“What makes you think Alex Manes is my type?” Michael protests, grasping at straws.
“Please,” Isobel snorts. “I saw the way you stared at his ass in high school, trust me it’s only gotten better with age.”
“It’s still a bad idea. Can’t you just see what he knows,” Michael gestures to Isobel’s head. Her face falls, and he immediately feels like an dick.
“You know I don’t do that anymore,” Isobel whispers, looking away from Michael.
“I know,” Michael takes her hand and squeezes it in reassurance. Isobel used to use her powers for silly, harmless things-getting an A on paper she never turned in, making her parents forget she was grounded. But as the years went on and Max still haunted the Crashdown, hoping Liz would come visit, the guilt of sending Liz away became a heavier and heavier burden.
And finding out someone’s secrets isn’t as easy as pushing them into doing something. Isobel wouldn’t be able to just persuade them to tell her what she wants to know, she’d have to take them into the mindscape. They might not be able to lie, but she would be just as vulnerable. It’s why they agreed she would never try it on Jesse Manes.
“Last resort, okay,” Isobel squeezes his hand back before dropping it. “Let’s try it the human way first.”
“Fine, but I am warning you ahead of time this plan is doomed to failure. Alex Manes is not going to fall for me and confess all his father’s deep dark secrets.”
“You're not a nerdy teenager who doesn’t know how to flirt anymore, Michael. Everyone wants a piece of the sexy handyman in the cowboy hat. Just wear your jeans low, bend over a lot and find excuses to take off your shirt. Like this,” Isobel plucks the beer bottles from Michael’s hand and slowly rolls it across her forehead and fans herself. “Sure is hot in here,” she says in a falsely deep voice. She tilts her head back and takes a slow sip from the bottle. She lets a little beer trickle from her mouth and chases it slowly with her tongue before winking at Michael.
“Never do that again. I’m scarred for life,” Michael grabs his beer back and immediately throws it away.
“Don’t pretend you haven’t seen those same pornos. Alex will be putty in your hands. Dammit,” Isobel looks at her watch, then quickly smooths her hair and straightens her clothes. “I’ve got to run, or I’ll be late for my date.”
“Be safe,” Michael calls out as she hurries away.
Isobel blows him a kiss, “Love you, too.”
Michael sighs and shakes his head. Isobel isn’t going to let this go so he might as well get started. He walks out of the hallway to the bar and catches Maria’s eye. It’s a quiet night so it’s not long before she comes over, his favorite beer already in her hand.
“Hey, DeLuca,” he stops her before she can walk away.
She eyes him warily, and he doesn’t blame her. They had a thing a few years ago and while it didn’t end badly, they never quite found their footing with each other-settling for less than friends but more than exes.
“Guerin,” she takes a step back in his direction.
“You’re still friends with Alex Manes, right,” he asks as casually as he can.
“Why,” Maria crosses her arms and stares at him.
“Stop trying to read me, it’s nothing bad,” he gives his best innocent smile. “I heard he was looking for someone to do some work around his house, and I was hoping you’d put in a good word for me.”
“Give me one good reason.”
He drops the innocent act, knowing he can be honest with Maria about this even if he wasn’t with Isobel. “Business has been slow at Sanders so I could really use the money. You know I’ll do a good job.”
“Fine,” she softens her stance slightly. “But,” she leans across the bar so they are face to face, “if you screw him over, I’ll mount your balls above the bar for everyone to see.”
“Fair,” Michael swallows audibly knowing it’s not an idle threat.
“He’ll be here tomorrow night so come early because he’ll leave before it gets crowded. I’ll let him know you’re interested.”
“Thanks, Maria, really,” Michael stands up to leave.
“Don’t make me regret this, Guerin,” Maria turns to another customer before he can respond.
Michael waits until he catches her eye, nodding and tipping his hat, before heading out, heart heavy. He hopes whatever he gets from Alex is worth it because if this goes the way he thinks it will, Maria will never speak to him again.
Michael shows up at the Pony the next night in his cleanest jeans and with his shirt buttoned most of the way up. He keeps the hat because this isn’t actually a job interview. Alex Manes is easy to spot-he’s sitting at a table not far from the bar, turning a beer bottle in his hands.
He’s alone, and Michael takes a deep breath before approaching him. “Manes,” he says, stopping to stand in front of the table.
Alex looks up from the bottle. “Guerin,” he replies, almost a question.
Michael hadn’t really thought this through. It’s not like they were friends, he doesn’t have a real reason to approach Alex. Not sure what to say, he just stands there awkwardly watching Alex.
Alex’s mouth twists in annoyance. “If you’re going to thank me for my service, don’t.”
“Fuck, no,” Michael can’t hold back a brief laugh. That’s the last thing he would ever do.
Instead of being offended, Alex seems to relax a bit at Michael’s reaction. “So what do you want?”
Alex’s eyes flick up and down as he looks Michael over, and maybe Isobel knew what she was talking about when she picked Michael to be the honeypot. He’s tempted to look back, flirt just enough to get Alex to follow him into the bathroom, but that won’t accomplish anything except scratching an itch.
Michael takes a step back and squares his shoulders. “Heard you were looking for a handyman. Thought I’d throw my hat in the ring, metaphorically of course.” Michael runs his hand along the rim of his hat and winks at Alex. A little flirting can’t hurt.
Alex looks toward the bar where Maria is watching them. “Maria told me you’ve done some of the repairs at the bar. Said you do good work.”
Michael shrugs and sends Maria a little wave. He wasn’t sure she would follow through on recommending him to Alex. Maria rolls her eyes at Michael and goes back to drying glasses.
“Give me your email,” Alex pulls Michael’s attention back. “I’ll send you the list of what I need done, and you can give me a quote.”
Michael gives Alex his information then excuses himself, figuring it’s best not to push just yet. He heads to the bar for his own drink. Maria’s in the back so he chats with the bartender for a while, and when he looks back Alex is gone.
The email is waiting in his inbox when he gets up the next morning. It looks like Alex sent it around 3 am so he’s either way more of a partier than Michael thought or an insomniac. He reads over the list between cars at Sanders. He can easily do everything on the list, and there is enough there to keep him busy for a good month. If Michael bid the way he wanted to, the job would be nice money, enough to carry him through the winter.
But the goal isn’t to make money, it’s to make sure Alex hires him so he sends it back with a ridiculously low price. It will cover materials, barely, but he won’t make any money and if anything goes wrong, he might end up in the red when it’s all done.
Michael waits until the end of the day to check his email. Alex’s response isn’t at all what he was expecting.
“I don’t need you pity. I can afford to pay for the work. Send me a real quote so you are paid fairly instead of losing money. If you can’t do that, I’m hiring Simmons and Sons.”
Michael makes a face. Simmons and Sons are complete assholes who overcharge for substandard work. But they’re big names in Roswell so they get all the city contracts and no one is willing to complain about them. Old man Simmons was good friends with Jim Valenti, is still close with the mayor, the Longs and probably Alex’s dad. He never hesitates to abuse those connections. His sons are a little older than Michael, and he remembers how Jim Valenti always looked the other way when they were caught speeding through town drunk or selling weed. Michelle’s not as soft, but the major still bails them out any trouble they find themselves in. Even if Michael didn’t have an ulterior motive, he wouldn’t want to subject Alex to them.
It doesn't take long to come up with a realistic bid, one that will give him some financial breathing room as well as getting him closer to Alex. Before he calls it a night Alex accepts his bid. He reluctantly texts Isobel to let her know their plan is in motion. He already feels guilty for taking advantage of Alex like this, but he knows their safety has to be his priority. They can’t protect themselves if they don’t know how much of a threat Jesse Mane-and possibly his son-are.
Michael and Alex spend the next few days emailing back and forth to work out the details. Alex will provide any materials related to the accessibility upgrades, and Michael will purchase everything else. Alex sends him several documents outlining exactly what needs to be done in terms of accessibility-primarily to the bathrooms and entryways. Alex also lets him know what tools he has at the house so Michael knows what he needs to bring with him. They also decide on a work schedule-Michael will work a few evenings a week once he’s done at the junkyard and Saturday afternoons. Although Alex assures him he can change that if needed since Alex works from home.
A few days before he is planning to start, the money needed for the initial supplies is deposited into his back account. Michael knows Iz would be pissed if she knew Alex had his bank account information, but it’s not like he uses an “extraterrestrials only” branch of Roswell’s First Federated Credit Union. He notices Alex also pays him the first half of his labor charges which is ahead of the schedule they set up.
Michael’s nervous when he finally knocks on Alex’s door. He lives in a quiet neighborhood, not as fancy as the Evans, but nicer than anywhere Michael can imagine ending up. Alex opens the door and waves him in. He doesn’t say much beyond an initial hello, and Michael finds himself standing awkwardly in the living room when Alex sits back down in front of a laptop.
“So I thought I’d start in the second bath, get that up and running before I start the demo on the master,” Michael says, hoping for some directions from Alex as to what he wants.
“That’s fine,” Alex looks up with a frown, like he’s surprised Michael is asking. “Whatever you think is best. The bars are in the bathroom if that’s what you want to do first.”
“Well since your new shower installation isn’t here yet, and it will probably take a few weeks to get the master bath done once I start on it, I thought you’d appreciate having a functionally accessible bathroom in the meantime.”
“Sure,” Alex shrugged before turning his attention to the computer. “Whatever you think.”
“Whatever I think,” Michael mumbles under his breath as he makes his way to the bathroom. He’s more used to people micromanaging him, and following him around to make sure he doesn’t steal anything rather than basically telling him to do what he wants. For some reason, he feels dismissed rather than trusted.
It takes a few hours to get the bars mounted. The ones for the toilet are easy, but since this is a small bathroom, the shower is a small corner unit and getting the grab bars in the recommended formation proves to be a bit of a challenge.
When he’s done, he finds Alex right where he left him. “Hey, you want to check out the bathroom before I go?”
“Is something wrong?” Alex doesn’t look up from what he’s typing.
“No,” Michael replies, bristling slightly. “I followed the schematics you gave me, but I want to make sure the height and spacing work for you before I go. That way I can adjust it now if you need me to.”
When Alex gets up, Michael notices he’s using a metal crutch that fits near his elbow. It’s the first physical reminder he’s seen that there’s a reason Alex needs grab bars in his bathroom. Alex walks away without a word. Michael doesn’t follow him, he thinks they would both be uncomfortable watching Alex check the placement of the bars.
Michael knows he made the right call when Alex comes back and thanks him without meeting his eyes. “Everything’s perfect, you did a good job.”
“I aim to please,” Michael tips his hat just to make Alex relax and smile. “See you tomorrow.”
When Alex nods, he gives a quick wave and heads out.
He’s almost back to the airstream when Isobel calls.
“Wel, how did it go?” she asks impatiently.
“He hasn’t fired me yet”
“Michael be serious,” she scolds him. “Did you find anything out?”
“Iz, I was only there for a few hours. Did you think he would confess his father’s a serial killer because I unclogged his drain?”
“A girl can dream,” Isobel sighs. “Just be charming or at least sexy. Pants too tight, shirt unbuttoned or, even better, shirt off.”
“Goodbye, Isobel,” Michael hangs up the phone before she can say anything else.
Alex doesn’t exactly give him a chance to show off. He doesn’t even open the door for Michael the next day, just yells for him to come in. He never budges from his computer the whole time Michael is there, and gives him an absent minded thanks when Michael leaves.
Michael spends Saturday working in the kitchen replacing the oven and range top. It’s not difficult work, but it’s time consuming and awkward. Once he’s wrangled the oven into place and hooked it up, he heads to the garage to bring in the new range top.
“You want a beer?” Alex asks when he comes back into the kitchen.
“Uh, sure,” Michael tries not to act surprised. He opens the fridge, gets a beer for himself and hands Alex one as well.
“Thanks,” Alex accepts the bottle with a small smile. “Maria told me to be nice to you.”
Michael laughs because that sounds like Maria. “So you and Maria?” he asks, hoping to get Alex talking.
Alex raises a brow at him, “Shouldn’t I be asking you that?”
“She told you about me?” Michael preens a little. “We had a good thing for a while, then we didn’t. No harm no foul, we just wanted different things.”
“What did you want?” Alex asks with a slight edge to his voice.
“Someone to come home to, a picket fence, maybe a dog or two,” Michael shrugs. “And Maria. . .”
“Maria’s too independent for that,” Alex fills in.
“Too independent, the bar and her mom need her too much for her to put that kind of energy into a relationship. Timing was off for us, but that happens.”
“And here I thought you were the love them and leave them type.”
Michael groans because some rumors insist on following him. “It’s all consensual and everyone knows the deal up front. There’s nothing wrong with two adults having a good time together. Just because I’m looking for my soulmate doesn’t mean I can’t have fun along the way.”
“Soulmate, seriously,” Alex snorts.
“Yeah,” Michael can’t help being a romantic at heart. “You know the person the cosmos designed for you, the perfect fit, the one destined to be in your life. I know it’s unlikely, but I can hope. I take it you don’t believe in soulmates?”
“I’d feel sorry for anyone stuck with me,” Alex looks down at his bottle and frowns.
Michael takes a drink and tries to decide how to redirect the conversation. “What about Liz Ortecho, you still talk to her much?”
Alex shakes his head. Michael names a few other classmates, but gets the same response.
“I pretty much cut off all ties with Roswell once I left for basic,” Alex explains. “I sent Maria a few postcards, but that was it. We hadn’t really talked in years until she found out I was hurt and showed up at the rehab center. Then she basically demanded I stay in touch,” Alex smiles at the memory.
“She’s a force of nature when she wants to be,” Michael says fondly. He tosses his empty beer bottle in the recycling and decides it best to end this on a good night. “Well, I should get back to it, thanks for the beer.”
Alex nods and turns back to his computer.
The next few times he’s there, Alex offers Michael a beer before he leaves. Michael keeps the conversations light and short so he doesn’t raise Alex’s suspicions. He finds he likes talking to Alex. Once he understands Alex’s sense of humor he realizes what a sarcastic asshole he is, and Michael loves that. He’s also smart-smart enough to keep up with Michael when he goes off on a tangent. But Isobel has been bugging him about making progress so he carefully broaches the topic of Jesse Manes.
“Kind of surprised I haven’t seen your family around now that you’re back in town,” Michael says casually, not looking directly at Alex,
“My brothers are all still active military. None of them are stationed nearby,” Alex explains.
“What about your dad? He still lives in Roswell.”
“My father’s the last person you’ll ever see here,” Alex snorts. “Taking a medical discharge confirmed once and for all that I’m a coward and not worth his time.”
“I’m sorry,” it comes out almost like a question because Alex doesn’t seem at all bothered.
“I’m not,” Alex dismissed his concern. “I would be happy to never see him again.”
Michael fiddles with his beer bottle, not sure where to go from there. He remembers Jesse acting like a proud father at the parade and what Isobel said about their being tension between him and Alex. Maybe all that pride was an act.
“Sorry,” Alex grimaces when the silence drags on. “Didn’t mean to be a downer.”
“Probably my fault,” Michael shrugs. “Isobel always says I’m terrible at conversation.”
“Isobel Evans?” Alex looks up sharply. “You’re still close with her, and Max too?”
“Yeah,” Michael rubs the back of his neck. Normally he’d make a crude joke, lean into the assumption that he’s slept with Isobel or Max or both of them. But if he wants Alex to open up to him, he’s going to have to show he trusts him. “They’re my family, or at least as close as I get to one. Not a lot of people know this, but we were found together in the desert as kids, lived in a group home together until they were adopted. Then we lost touch for a long time.”
“I’m sorry you were separated.”
“It sucked,” Michael admits. “But we found our way back to each other. And I’m glad they had a family growing up, that they had it easier than I did.”
Alex nods, and Michael decides he’s had enough honesty for one night. “Anyway, now I’m the one dragging us down. It’s late so I’m going to head out. See you tomorrow.”
The next day, Michael brings a six pack in with him. Alex gives him a puzzled look when he passes him on his way to the kitchen.
“Can’t mooch off you forever,” Michael explains as he puts the beer in the fridge. “Should be cold by the time I’m done.”
He spends the next few hours working on the master bath. The shower won’t be in for a few weeks, but he needs to update the plumping and replace the tile. When he reaches a good stopping point, he grabs two beers and joins Alex at the table. Michael rocks back in his chair while Alex shuts down his lap top.
“So if your not here for your family,”
“Definitely not,” Alex interjects.
“Why did you come back?”
“What do you mean?” Alex asks.
“No one comes back to Roswell voluntarily. There has to be a reason you're here.” When Alex doesn’t respond, Michael narrows his eyes and hums. “So the first choice is usually to repair a broken relationship with a parent or sibling, but you ruled that out. How about wealthy relative you never met left you a huge inheritance on the condition you live in Roswell for a year and marry.”
Alex just shakes his head.
Michael sighs dramatically. “Then it must be for love. You found out your ex is getting married and you want to win them back. You always regretted the breakup so you’ve come to sweep them off their feet.”
Alex looks at Michael like he’s lost his mind. “I was the gay, emo kid in a cowboy town. How many exes do you think I have?” Alex holds up his hand before Michael can respond. “And if you say Kyle Valenti, you’re fired.”
“God, no,” Michael laughs. “Not that douche. Can you believe he’s a doctor?”
“Kyle always wanted to be the best at everything,” Alex says, looking a little wistful.
Michael remembers that Alex and Valenti used to be friends before Valenti became a raging dick. His chest hurts remembering how Valenti had taunted Alex at Prom, how he pushed him around at school. “You weren’t the only one,” Michael says, hoping it will be some kind of comfort. “The only queer kid in Roswell, I mean. Bisexual,” he points to himself. “And Emily Rathburn fell in love with some girl in college. They got married last year.”
“That’s nice, I guess,” Alex frowns a little. “I still felt like the only one then, still felt alone.”
Michael nods, because he gets it. Even after he found Isobel and Max, he felt alone. All three of them were aliens, but they had a place here that Michael didn’t. He was the one who longed to go home, wherever that was. “Well,” he says, deciding to change the subject. “Since you shot down all my rom com reasons for you to be in Roswell, why did you come back?”
“Had some loose ends to tie up. There’s a company nearby that hires a lot of veterans with my skill set so being here is a way to get my foot in the door.”
There’s a weight to his words that makes Michael nervous, reminds of why he’s here. But he decides not to push tonight. “Hope it works out for you,” he says as he makes his way to the door.
The next time Michael walks into Alex’s, the house is quiet. Alex isn’t at the table, his lap is closed and most of the lights are off. “Alex?” he calls. The door was unlocked so he assumes Alex is home, but Michael has never had to look for him.
“In here,” Alex calls.
Michael follows his voice to the living room where he finds Alex slumped in the corner of the couch. He looks-Michael can’t actually say he looks bad, he’s too handsome for that-but he’s pale and drawn. It’s also the first time he’s seen Alex without his prosthetic. Alex always wears jeans when Michael is here so it’s easy to forget what happened to him. But now Michael can see where the sweatpants he’s wearing are tied off-highlighting the empty space where the remainder of his right leg used to be.
“Are you ok?” Michael asks as he comes to stand in front of the couch. Up close he can see lines of tension on Alex’s face.
“Rough PT session,” Alex waves away his concern. “I’ll be fine.”
“You want a beer?” Michael asks, already walking toward the kitchen.
“Thanks, but I can’t with the meds I took.”
Michael nods even though he’s out of Alex’s line of sight. He rummages through the cupboards and doesn’t find any tea, but he does find a crumpled packet of hot chocolate. He makes it with warm milk so it will hopefully taste better than the watery versions they used to serve at school functions. When he goes back to the living room, Alex has his head tipped back against the couch and his eyes closed. Michael sets the mug down gently on the table, not wanting to disturb Alex if he’s asleep.
But Alex cracks an eye open. When he spots Michael, he picks up the mug, smiling when he smells what’s in it. “Thanks, I haven’t had hot chocolate since I was a kid.”
“Thought you could use something warm.” Michael was going to say comforting, but that sounded too personal. “I better leave you to it and get to work.”
Michael planned to work on the patio, but he’s reluctant to leave Alex alone so he decides to paint the spare room instead. Painting is quiet work and it makes the silence in the house all the more noticeable. When Michael’s working inside, he’s usually close enough to Alex that he can usually hear him typing on his laptop or at least hear the quiet music Alex always has playing in the background. He barely manages to get the primer on before he gives in and goes out to check on Alex.
He finds Alex sprawled out on the couch, sleeping. He doesn’t look particularly comfortable,and there’s a part of him that wants to carry him to bed. Instead, Michael settles for gently moving his left leg which was dangling toward the floor back on to the couch. Alex doesn’t stir or react at all to Michael’s touch, just keeps sleeping.
Michael’s debating if he should get Alex a blanket when a text from Isobel comes in. Suddenly he remembers why he’s there. It’s not to fuss over Alex, but to find out what his father is up to and if Alex is involved. With Alex as deeply asleep as he is, it’s Michael's best chance to look for evidence. He forces himself to walk away, ignoring the pang of regret he feels when he sees the mug of hot chocolate is empty.
Two hours later, Michael’s had enough. He knows what brand of underwear Alex likes, that he has surprisingly expensive taste in shower gel and his homeowner’s insurance is due in two weeks. Michael also knows how many medals and commendations he has from the Air Force, he knows Alex has exactly one picture of his mother, and if he dies, Maria DeLuca gets his pension and the rest of his assets are to be sold or liquidated and divided between four different charities.
Michael shouldn’t know any of these things, and he wishes he could erase them from his memory. He stops on his way out to put Alex’s empty mug in the dishwasher. Even though it feels wrong after what he’s just done, he covers Alex with the blanket from the armchair, whispering “sorry” before he leaves.
Guilt sits heavy in his stomach as he drives to the Wild Pony to meet Max and Isobel. “So I searched Alex Manes house tonight,” he begins as soon as they sit down.
“Breaking and entering,” Max says in an angry whisper. “Are you kidding me.”
“I was there to work on his house so no breaking involved.” Michael throws his hands up, not sure why Max is questioning him.
He sees Max wince and knows Isobel probably kicked him under the table.
“Sorry,” Max says sheepishly. “I forgot about that.”
“Seriously?” Michael rolls his eyes. “No wonder Iz picked me.”
“Boys, enough,” Isobel scolds them before turning to Michael. “What did you find?”
“Not a damn thing,” Michael replied. He doesn’t tell them about the replica of Roswell’s gazebo packed away carefully in a box he found on the top shelf of Alex’s closet or the journals filled with song lyrics he couldn’t bring himself to read. “Alex keeps saying he and Jesse hate each other, and I guess it’s true. There isn’t a single thing in the house that mentions him or anything about aliens either.”
“He’s not going to leave that kind of stuff out in the open. Are you sure you looked hard enough?” Isobel questions.
“Personal lockpick, remember,” Michael points to his head. “I went through every drawer, every safe, the garage and his car. Nothing,” he repeats.
“So now what?” Isobel slumps back against the booth.
“I finish the job, make some money and you find some other way to figure out what Jesse Manes is up to.”
“So helpful, Michael,” Isobel complains.
“Hey, I did my part. It’s not my fault Alex doesn't know anything,” Michael protests. Part of him feels like the words are untrue, just because it looks like Alex isn’t involved, he could still know something. But everything he did tonight feels like a betrayal, and he’s ready to be done.
They argue a bit longer about the best way to spy on Jesse Manes without getting caught. By the time Michael leaves, they still haven’t come up with any real options.
A little before noon the next day, Michael yells to Sanders that he is taking a break. He swings by the Crashdown before making his way to Alex’s house. Michael knocks on the door, something he hasn’t done in weeks, but Alex isn’t expecting him.
When Alex opens the door, he thrusts the bag at him. “I brought you lunch,” he explains. “I wanted to make sure you were alright.”
“Yeah, I’m good,” Alex ducks his head. “Come in.”
Michael follows him into the house. Alex sets the bag on the table before turning back to Michael. “Thanks.” He steps closer, frames Michael’s face with his hands and kisses him softly. “Thank you for lunch and last night. It’s been a long time since someone took care of me.” When Michael doesn’t pull away, he kisses him again, deeper this time, tongue teasing Michael’s mouth open.
The look in Alex’s eyes when they pull apart fills Michael with equal parts hope and guilt so he does his best to deflect. “You thank all your friends,” he almost says ‘employees’ but he knows that wouldn’t be accurate when talking about what they are doing now, “this way?”
“Only the ones I want to fuck,” Alex says with a wicked smile.
“That what we’re doing here, Alex?” Michael asks.
“I’m not your soulmate, Michael. I know the deal. Just two adults having fun, right.”
It’s less than Michael wants, but more than he deserves so he’ll take it. Michael surges forward, taking control of the kiss and backing Alex up against the wall. Once he has Alex pinned, Michael drops to his knees. He makes quick work of Alex’s pants, pushing them down to mid thigh.
Alex is already starting to get hard, and Michael smiles, licking his lips in anticipation. He grabs Alex’s ass to pull him closer. “God, your ass,” he groans when his fingers dig into the muscles there. Michael is tempted to spin Alex around, worship his ass with his eyes and mouth, but Alex’s dick is right here.
Michael takes him in his mouth, loving the way Alex immediately starts to get harder. He doesn’t bother with finesse, just takes Alex as deep as he can. It’s sloppy and fast and Michael loves it, not bothering to wipe away the mix of spit and precome that slips out of his mouth. Alex buries his hands in Michael’s hair, tugging just hard enough to sting as he thrusts into Michael’s mouth.
When Michael strokes his fingers down the crease of Alex’s ass, he comes with a muffled shout. His fingers tighten even more in Michael’s hair, and Michael’s cock throbs in response. He lets Alex’s cock slide out of his mouth. Michael rocks back on his heels and licks Alex clean until Alex whimpers and pushes his head away. Before he stands, he pulls Alex’s pants back up, because no one likes to stand around with their pants down once they’re soft and spent, but doesn’t bother to fasten them.
Alex reaches for him, pressing his thumb against Michael’s swollen lips. When his cock brushes against Alex’s leg, he can’t help but whine.
“I can’t” Alex gestures between the floor and his leg.
“Don’t care,” Michael mumbles. “Your hand is more than enough.”
Alex looks at him for a moment before nodding. He licks his palm while holding Michael’s gaze then sucks each finger slowly into his mouth. It’s a little mean and a lot sexy, and Michael knows he’s screwed in more ways than one.
Michael has his pants down before Alex gets to his thumb. Alex’s hand is cool in contrast to the heated skin of his dick, and he moans loudly when Alex wraps his hand around him. He doesn’t tease, and Michael’s grateful as Alex jerks him off, strokes sure and steady. It’s over quicker than he’d like, but Alex doesn’t seem to mind, kissing him deeply before he’s even caught his breath.
Michael licks the come off Alex’s palm, repeating Alex’s earlier action. Alex’s eye’s darken, and Michael can’t help preening a little under the intensity of his attention. “I should probably get back before Sanders starts to miss me,’ Michael says reluctantly, cleaning himself up as best he can with his shirttails before refastening his pants.
Alex doesn’t respond, just slumps against the wall and watches him leave.
“See you tomorrow,” Michael calls on his way out, getting a lazy wave from Alex in response.
Michael’s not sure what to expect when he shows up the next day. Alex gives him a quiet “hey” when he walks by, but never looks up from his laptop screen. Michael tips his hat in acknowledgement and heads straight to the patio.
Maybe he wasn’t expecting Alex to greet him with a kiss, but he was hoping to get some indication from Alex as to where they stand. If that was it, if Alex just wants to pretend nothing happened, Michael won’t be the one to bring it up.
He spends the next few hours outside, taking his frustration and confusion out on the last of the concrete that needs torn out. The work is physical enough to keep him focused so can’t think about how Alex felt in his mouth and how much he wants to feel that again and again.
The sun has set by the time he’s done, and once he stops working the night air makes him shiver when it hits him. He heads into the house-sweaty, dirty and exhausted. He hopes to get out without attracting Alex’s attention. All Michael wants to do is go home, shower and sleep. He can’t face awkward small talk with Alex over beers tonight.
He’s washing his hands at the sink in the kitchen when Alex comes up behind him. Michael feels Alex breath on his neck before his lips find the spot beneath his ear. Michael shudders and tries to shrug Alex away. “I’m sweaty and gross,” he explains.
“Don’t care,” Alex says as he continues licks a line along the side of Michael’s neck. “I like the way you smell. Like the ground after it rains. It’s sexy.”
“You think so?” Michael turns in Alex’s arms, shaking his hands dry as best he can.
Alex takes his hat off and sets it on the counter. He twirls one of the curls he freed on his finger and tugs Michael closer. “Let me show you.”
He leads Michael into the living room, pushing him gently onto the couch. Alex shoves Michael’s shirt up to his armpits, leaving Michael to struggle out of it while he nuzzles and mouths at Michael’s chest. It’s all teeth and tongue, and Michael’s hips buck up when Alex bites one of his nipples.
“Pants,” Alex demands.
Michael kicks his shoes off and tries to concentrate, but Alex is licking and sucking along his collarbone and that’s all he can focus on. He gets as far as unbuckling his belt before Alex takes over, pulling his pants off and tossing them aside.
As Alex makes his way down his body, Michael spreads his legs as wide as he can, dropping one leg off the couch, to give Alex more room. Michael sighs in anticipation when Alex pushes him further up the couch and settles between his legs.
Alex rests his head on Michael’s thigh, pressing his face into the crease of his groin. For a moment he just stays there, breathing into Michael’s skin. Then he turns his attention to Michael’s balls, licking around them and sucking on them while one his hands plays with the wiry curls above Michael’s dick.
“Come on, man,” Michael pleads.
Alex looks up and smiles. “You want something?”
“Your mouth on my dick would be ideal right now.”
Alex shrugs like it’s no big deal then sucks Michael down almost to the root. Michael can’t help but thrust up, harder than he means to. But Alex doesn’t hold him still, just rides it out. Then he slides his hand under Michael’s ass, encouraging him to set the pace.
Michael likes to think he gives a good blowjob, but Alex is on another level. Once again it's over quicker than he’s like it to be. But once he’s done, he barely gets a hand on Alex’s dick before Alex is coming all over his stomach so Michael calls it even.
Alex watches from the couch while Michael gathers his clothes. His jeans are already pulled up and zipped although the button is undone, and Michael still hasn’t found his own pants. “I really need to get you naked,” he says without thinking.
“Next time,” Alex answers with a smirk.
His hand is on the door when Alex calls him back.
“Hey, you forgot this,” he walks out of the kitchen holding Michael’s hat. When he gets to Michael, he plops it on his head before kissing him. Before Michael can respond, he reaches around Michael to open the door and nudges him out.
They settle into a routine after that. Michael shows and does whatever work he has scheduled for the day, and then they fuck. It’s been a long time since Michael had sex with the same person more than once, and he forgot how fun it can be. They get off grinding against each other on the couch like teenagers one night, and the next day Michael jerks Alex off while fucking his thighs. There’s an enthusiastic, but perhaps ill advised round of sixty-nine in Alex’s bed. Somehow Michael almost gets hit in the head by Alex’s prosthetic, but when he comes seeing stars, it’s from Alex’s mouth not a concussion so he’s not complaining.
Michael knows they have an expiration date. There’s not much left to do at the house, and once he doesn’t have an excuse to be at Alex’s house, they’ll go their separate ways. Alex has given no indication he’d make an effort to see Michael and considering Michael, Max and Isobel are still trying to figure out what Alex’s father is up to, ending this before that happens is a good idea.
Still coming home, smiling and satisfied after Alex fucked him against the kitchen table, he’s unprepared for Isobel to blow the whole thing up. She’s pacing outside his airstream when he pulls up.
“Liz Ortecho is back in town,” she says as soon as he’s out of the truck and close enough to hear her.
It’s an eerily familiar way to start a conversion, but he’s pretty sure she isn’t going to ask him to honeypot Liz Ortecho. “So,” he replies.
“Max was with her at the Crashdown last week when Wyatt Long and his pals shot it up. They hit Liz, and Max saved her.”
“He what!” Michael shouts. “Last week? Why am I just finding out now?”
“He just told me.”
“I assume she knows.”
“Kind of hard to hide the sparkly, glowing handprint.” Isobel holds up her own hand as if Michael doesn’t know what she means.
“That’s just great,” Michael throws up his hands. “All these years of telling us to be careful, and as soon as Liz waltzes back into town, Max throws it all away.”
“It’s worse than that,” Isobel winces.
“He didn’t tell her about Rosa, did he?” Now Michael is pacing. “Wouldn’t that be the icing on the fucking cake. After everything we did to protect you, Max tells Liz not only did we kill her sister, we framed her for Kate and Jasmine’s deaths.”
“No, he didn’t tell her about that,” Isobel rushes to assure him. “But the reason he finally told me about Liz is that Jesse Manes showed up at the station today. He was asking the Sheriff about where Jim Valenti’s old files were stored. Said he needed them to clear up some Air Force case.”
“Shit,” Michael swears.
“I followed him from the station, and he met up with Kyle Valenti. I couldn’t hear everything they were saying, but I definitely heard ‘handprint’ and ‘Alex.’”
“You don’t know,” Michael starts.
“Alex knows something, Michael. Something big or at least more than we know. I have to find out what it is,” Isobel squares her shoulders.
“No,” Michael objects too fast. “I’ll get him to tell me. You don’t need to get into his head.”
Isobel narrows her eyes and stares at him. “Oh my god, you slept with him.”
“Wasn’t that kind of the point,” Michael says defensively.
“Not now, not after you said he was a dead end. If you’re sleeping with him now,” Isobel cocks her head. “Oh, Michael, you’re in love with him, aren’t you?”
Michael shuffles his feet and looks away. “Doesn’t matter. It’s over as soon as I finish his house so we might as well get something out of it.”
“It does matter,” Isobel looks at him with something too close to pity. “You don’t have to do this. If there’s a chance for you and Alex,”
“There isn’t,” he cuts her off. “And even if there were, this is more important. Protecting our secret, protecting our family is always going to be the first priority. I won’t risk that for Alex Manes, no matter how good the sex is.”
“So the sex is good, huh,” Isobel teases, willingly going along with his need to change the topic from his impending broken heart..
“It’s fucking epic,” Michael gloats just a bit.
“I’m sorry you have to do this, but you’re not alone.” Isobel stands up straighter. “I’m going to cozy up to Kyle Valenti, see if I can figure out what he knows.”
“Eww,” Michael makes a face. “What about the lawyer you’ve been seeing?”
“No real sparks there. I’ll just throw the lawyer over for a doctor. Mom will still be thrilled.”
“Just promise me you’ll be careful,” Michael says, resigned to Isobel doing what she wants.
“I will,” she promises, giving him a hug before leaving.
The next time Michael is at Alex’s he finishes the shower, the last of the renovations to the master bath.. It’s good work, something to be proud of. It’s also the last big project he has at the house. There’s a few days of work left in finishing up the patio, but that’s it. Time is ticking on both his time with Alex and his opportunity to get answers.
Once the bathroom’s clean, he heads to the kitchen to find Alex. “Shower’s done. You should try it out,” he suggests.
“You going to join me?” Alex asks as he stands up from the table.
“Thought you liked me all sweaty?” Michael asks.
“I do,” Alex looks him up and down, leering just a bit. “Just don’t leave, ok?” he reaches out and grips Michael’s wrist.
“I won’t,” Michael promises. Then to change the mood, he adds with a wink, “Want to see how much you enjoy all my hard work.”
Alex rolls his eyes, but lets go of Michael and disappears into the bedroom. Once he hears the water running, he strips and waits for Alex in his bed. When Alex comes out of the bathroom, he looks like one of Michael’s fantasies come to life. Steam billows around him, his skin is flushed and slightly damp, his hair slicked back from his forehead.
Once he makes his way to the bed, Alex sets his crutches aside and kisses Michael. “The shower head is a little fancier than I remember.”
“Thought you deserved an upgrade,” Michael shrugs. “You like it?”
“The massage setting was amazing,” Alex tells him, stretching out next to him and kissing his neck.
“I may have also adjusted your water pressure,” Michael admits.
“Thank you,” Alex whispers into his skin. “I think you deserve a reward.”
Michael’s not going to pass that up so he thinks about what he wants. “Turn over for me,” he finally tells Alex.
Alex looks up at Michael and studies his face, trying to determine how serious he is. When Michael holds his gaze, he smiles and turns over.
Once Alex is on his stomach, Michael moves to sit between his legs and pushes a pillow under his hips. He takes a moment to just look because Alex’s ass is as magnificent as he always thought it would be. He settles into a more comfortable position and parts Alex’s cheeks. “Can I?” he asks, making sure his breath hits Alex’s hole so Alex knows what he wants.
“Please,” Alex replies, already shifting to get closer to Michael.
Michael doesn’t hesitate, just presses his tongue against Alex’s hole. When Alex shudders and moans, he licks a stripe along the crease of his ass before returning to push inside him. They’ve never done this before, and Michael wishes they had, wishes they’d done this everyday because Alex loves it.
Alex is never still, he alternates between grinding against the pillow and pushing his ass closer to Michael’s face. And the noises he makes are indescribable.
“God, you were made for this,” Michael says in awe when he takes a break.
Alex whines at the loss of his tongue, and Michael gives his ass a playful smack before diving back in. Michael drags it out as long as he can, but sooner than he’d like Alex is coming into his own fist with Michael’s tongue buried as deep as he can get it in Alex’s hole.
It’s tempting when Alex’s is spent, sprawled face down on the mattress to fuck him right then while he’s still slick and open. But he wants to take his time, wants to make Alex come again so he eases the pillow from under Alex’s hips and tosses it on the floor before urging Alex to turn over.
Alex stretches and gives Michael a blissed out smile before reaching lazily towards Michael’s cock. “Want some help with that?”
“Not yet,” Michael swats his hand away because if Alex touches him it will be over before it starts. “Going to get you hard again first.”
“Ambitious,” Alex teases.
“Just watch me,” Michael promises, then proceeds to devote himself to Alex’s pleasure. He uses everything he’s learned about Alex’s body over the last few weeks-the places he likes to be kissed and stroked, the places he wants Michael to use his teeth and press deep into his skin. Michael knows how to make Alex bite his lip and shiver, how to make him arch his back and buck his hips. He makes him moan and curse, plead and demand, and that’s just the beginning.
When Alex is hard and weeping again, he uses his fingers to stretch him, getting him more open then he already was. He ignores Alex’s insistence that he’s ready as long as he can and when Michael finally pushes inside, it’s overwhelming.
Michael fucks him slowly, almost slower than he can stand. But it’s worth it to watch Alex come apart beneath him, to watch the sweat bead on his body, to watch him become more restless the closer he gets until he grabs his own dick and strokes himself to orgasm in time with Michael’s thrusts.
Watching Alex, feeling him tighten around him, pushes Michael over the edge. His own release washes over him, his rhythm stutters until he finally stills inside Alex. Michael collapses next to Alex on the bed, pulling out of him reluctantly. Alex gives him a sloppy, uncoordinated kiss before closing his eyes.
By the time Michael gets back from the bathroom with a washcloth, Alex is asleep. He cleans him gently before returning to bed. It’s tempting to fall asleep as well, but Michael doesn’t want to waste the time he has left with Alex. He settles close to him and watches him, pretending while he can that this is something he can have.
When Alex starts to stir, Michael watches the way his eyes flutter before finally opening. He turns toward Michael smiling when he sees him still there. “It’s nice waking up to you,” he says in a way that lets Michael know he isn’t quite awake enough to filter what he says.
Michael’s heart shatters because he knows this is the time to ask. He brushes the hair off Alex’s forehead and kisses him softly before going in for the kill. “If you hate your father so much, why did you follow in his footsteps?” Michael aims for casual and misses badly.
“Is that what you think I did?” Alex laughs harshly and pushes the heels of hands into his eyes. Then he turns to face Michael, all the softness, all the sleepy haziness is gone from his eyes. “My father has secrets, Michael, dangerous ones. Joining the Air Force was the best way to find out what they were.”
Michael makes a noise of inquiry, hoping Alex will keep talking.
“Being a legacy recruit in the Air Force, especially with a family like mine, opens doors. People talk, around you, to you, assuming you joined for the same reason they did, to carry on your family’s legacy. I took advantage of every opportunity the Air Force gave me, for the exact opposite reason, to destroy my family’s legacy.”
“Did you find what you were looking for?”
“Some of it, most of it. Got closer enough for this,” Alex gestures at his leg.
Michael stiffens at the insinuation. “You think your father,” he can’t even finish the thought.
“I can’t prove it. Yet,” Alex amends. “Friendly fire happens, more often than people think, but this wasn’t a normal accident. And he did a piss poor job at hiding how disappointed he was that I survived.”
“Jesus,” Michael swears under his breath. If Jesse Manes was willing to kill his own kid, he’s way more dangerous than they thought.
“When I left the Air Force, he wrote me off as a coward. He thinks he scared me off, that I came home to hide out and lick my wounds.”
“So why are you here,” Michael asks, echoing his question from weeks ago.
“To finish what I started,” Alex answers. He leans back, putting space between them that wasn’t there before. “Any other questions?”
Michael swallows hard because this isn’t his lover asking, this is the Air Force captain Michael likes to pretend Alex never was. He should push, find out just how much Alex is willing to tell him, but he sees the betrayal hiding behind the hardness in Alex’s eyes, and he can’t. “I should get going,” he says instead.
Alex nods and shifts so he is sitting against the headboard no longer touching Michael at all. He watches Micheal get dressed, watches as he walks out, without saying another word.
When Michael gets back to his truck, he pounds his fists against the steering wheel before taking a deep breath and driving away. He knows he hurt Alex, knows he ruined any slim chance they had at being something, and he still doesn’t have solid answers because he was too chicken shit twist the knife in Alex’s back. Michael’s tempted to drive straight to the Wild Pony and hand his balls over to Maria right then.
The next time he goes to Alex’s, the door is open, but Alex isn’t waiting for him. Instead he finds a note on the table explaining that Alex had some errands to run, and Michael should lock up when he’s done.
“Errands,” Michael snorts. He can’t blame Alex for wanting to avoid him.
After a few hours working on the patio, Michael’s ready to call it a night. There’s almost nothing left to do, and being here without Alex is uncomfortable.
Alex is missing again the next night, not even bothering to with a note this time. Michael drags out what little he has to finish, hoping Alex will show up before he’s done. He’s making some final adjustments to the gate when Isobel calls.
“Why is Alex Manes at the Wild Pony getting drunk and looking like he plans to stay that way?”
“Cause I fucked up Iz,” Michael sighs. “He knows I want something from him, something to do with his father.”
“Did he tell you?” Isobel asks, a hint of hope in her voice.
“No, and why would he? He doesn’t trust me, but he knows. He’s not involved.” Michael hastens to add. “I think he’s been investigating his father for a long time. So whatever Jesse’s up to, Alex knows what it is.”
“So I guess it’s my turn,” Isobel signs, hope turned to resignation.
“Not tonight,” Michael interjects. “Not when he’s been drinking.” He doesn’t want to think about what it means that he’s as worried about Alex as he is Isobel when he thinks about Isobel forcing him into a mindscape.
“Not tonight, but soon,” Isobel warns. “Now that Liz knows, we have to figure out who our enemies are before she turns on us.”
Michael hopes that won’t happen, that somehow Max can keep Liz on their side, but he knows Isobel is right. “Just give me a day or two to say goodbye.”
“Michael,” Isobel says sadly. “I’m sorry I made you do this.”
Even though she can’t see him, Michael shrugs. What’s done is done. “So how’s it going with Valenti?” he asks, ready to change the subject.
“Pointless,” Isobel huffs out a frustrated breath. “He’s as hopelessly hung up on Liz Ortecho as Max. I don’t know what they see in her. She’s.”
“Brilliant and gorgeous,” Michael interrupts.
“A self-righteous know-it-all,” Isobel continues as if Michael hadn’t spoken. “Looks like my date is here. Talk to you later.”
“Bye Iz, be careful,” Michael reminds her before hanging up.
Now that he knows Alex won’t be coming home, Michael quickly finishes the rest of his work. When he’s done, he’s tempted to leave Alex a note. Instead he leaves a copy of the itemized job list Alex originally sent him-with every item checked off-on the table. He locks up when he leaves, the click of the lock audible in the silence around him.
When Michael wakes up the next morning, there is a notification of a deposit in his bank account-almost twice what they agreed on. Michael tosses his phone aside with a sigh, it’s not like Alex can’t afford it, which is something Michael shouldn’t know, but he’s seen Alex’s bank statements. He’ll deal with it later.
It’s dark by the time Michael works up the courage to go to Alex’s. He rings the doorbell for the first time since this all started. When Alex opens the door on crutches, prosthetic off, guilt twists in Michael’s stomach. He shouldn’t get to see Alex like this-relaxed and vulnerable-anymore.
“I have something for you. Can you meet me out back?” Michael asks.
Alex just nods and shuts the door. By the time Michael stops by the truck and makes it to the patio, Alex is waiting for him.
Michael sets the firepit in the middle of the brick he laid. “I made that for you,” he says awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Thought it would look nice out here.”
“Thanks,” Alex sounds confused by the gesture. But he smiles as he studies the polished metal and the constellations Michael had punched out.
“You overpaid me,” Michael blurts out.
“You did good work, and it’s still less than I would have paid Simmons,” Alex explains.
“Yeah, well thanks.” Michael turns to go.
“Michael,” Alex’s voice stops him. “Did you get what you wanted out of this?”
“A paycheck and a good fuck? Yeah no complaints on either one.” Not prepared to be put on the spot, Michael reverts to sarcasm.
Alex looks frustrated, and for a moment Michael thinks he’s going to let him walk away.
“That’s not why you took this job.”
“What makes you say that?” Michael stays on the defensive.
“Maybe the third time you asked about my father. Or maybe it was when you searched my house.” Now Alex is the one relying on sarcasm.
Michael doesn’t say anything. He should have had an excuse ready, should have been prepared, but he never expected Alex to confront him.
“I know who you are Michael,” Alex continues. “Or should I say I know what you are.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Michael denies, but he knows his panic is showing.
“Come on,” Alex opens the french doors-the ones Michael installed-and gestures for Michael to follow. “We should have this conversation inside.”
Michael wants to run, wants to get in his truck and drive as far away from Roswell as he can. But if Alex really knows the truth, running won’t help. He needs to find out exactly what Alex knows.
“Can you grab a few beers from the fridge,” Alex calls out from the living room.
“Sure,” Michael says faintly. He takes it as a good sign. Alex wouldn’t offer him a beer if he was planning to ship him off somewhere to be experimented on.
Once they are both seated,-Alex on the couch, Michael on the chair closest to the door-Alex looks at him and sighs. “I know you and Max and Isobel Evans are aliens. I’ve known since high school.”
“How,” Michael breathes, too shocked to hear someone-Alex-say it out loud to deny it.
“It’s a long story,” Alex picks up his beer bottle, fiddles with it then sets it back down. “Before my mom left, she used to take us to the Reservation every weekend. She would go see this woman named Louise. She was old, seemed ancient to me, was in a wheelchair and didn’t speak. But she was a healer. My brothers were always running around, playing with the other kids, but I wanted to stay with my mom so I spent a lot of time with Louise. She used to tell me stories, in my head.”
“In your head?” Michael says skeptically.
“Like I said she didn’t talk. I asked my mom how she could do that and how she could help people because she wasn’t Native. My mother told me her powers were special, that they didn’t come from the earth.”
“You think she was an alien?” Michael tries to sound more skeptical than hopeful.
“Not then, but yes I believe she was an alien. The stories she told me were all about another planet, a war and people fleeing. I used to think she was just telling her own version of Star Wars, but now,” Alex shrugs.
Michael wants to ask for detail, wants to know everything she told Alex in hopes of finding himself in the stories. But he knows this isn’t the time so he remains silent.
“One day my mom was on the phone and she said ‘the children have come’ and then she told me Louise had died. One story Louise told me more than once was about the three sleeping children who were destined to save her world and how her job was to be their guardian until they woke up.”
Shivers run down Michael’s spine. It seems like too much to believe, but she had to have been talking about the three of them.
“My mom left soon after that, and I forgot about Louise and her stories. My main focus was avoiding my father. He was always cruel, but once he figured out I was gay he became more and more violent. I used to hide out in this shed behind the house that my grandfather built. When I was about fourteen or fifteen, I was looking for a place to hide stuff from my dad. I pulled up one of the floorboards and found a skeleton.”
“There was a body buried under your family shed?” Michael doesn’t understand what this has to do with him.
“It was my father’s uncle, Tripp. My father always talked about what a hero he was, how he died fighting for his country. But it turns out my grandfather killed him because he was in love with an alien.”
“Louise?”
“No, another woman named Nora. There was a journal buried with them. It said Tripp and my grandfather were at the original crash in 1947. Tripp helped Nora and Louise escape along with three children held in some sort of stasis pods. They hid in Roswell for a year, and Tripp and Nora fell in love. They were going to take the children and run, but my grandfather found out and raided the farm they were staying on. He captured Nora and shot Louise. Tripp got Louise to the Reservation, but he couldn’t save Nora.”
“What happened to her?” Michael was almost afraid to find out.
“There was a prison built by the military after the crash for the survivors. My grandfather ran it along with the Valentis. She was taken there. My grandfather suspected Tripp wasn’t loyal so he kept him away. Because he and my father were close, Tripp tried to get him on his side before my grandfather corrupted him. Tripp was trying to convince my father that the aliens weren’t a threat and get his help in freeing Nora and the other prisoners. My grandfather found out, and I assume that’s when he killed him.”
“I didn’t find the journal when I,” Michael gestures to the room. He’s not sure he believes Alex.
“I don’t keep it in Roswell. I have a safety deposit box my father can’t find.”
“Even if all that is true and great uncle Tripp wasn’t some sort of Grant Green crackpot, it doesn’t have anything to do with me.”
“Tripp said if they didn’t take the children out of the pods, they would open in fifty years. Louise died fifty years after the crash. It wasn’t hard to put the pieces together.”
“And the pieces led you to me?” Michael’s have a hard enough time connecting the dots in Alex’s story. He can’t see how Alex figured out the truth on his own.
“Not a first,” Alex shakes his head. “You know I don’t think I even knew Max and Isobel were adopted. But once I started investigating and found the article about the children found in the desert I recognized them.”
“So being adopted makes them aliens,” Michael snaps, crossing his arms. His instinct is always to protect Max and Isobel.
Alex gives him a look that lets him know he realizes Michael is deflecting. “Once I started paying attention, I saw how the lights flickered around Max, how Isobel always got her way. You were a bit harder. But I remembered you were in foster care, and I saw how close you were to Max and Isobel so I figured you might be the third child. I followed you around for a while and saw you moving things without touching them.”
Michael’s breath speeds up as he realizes how easy it was for Alex to discover their secret. The illusion of safety they’d clung to all these years was fading. “Did you, did you tell anyone?”
“No, never” Alex reaches across the distance between them and briefly touches his hand. “And once I figured out what my father was doing, I altered all the records on the three of you. It would be virtually impossible to connect any of you to the three kids found in the desert.”
“So why did you hire me? Why bring me into your house believing all this?” Maybe Michael wasn’t the only one with an agenda. What if Alex’s job was a trap all along?
“You may find this hard to believe, but you being an alien isn’t the first thing that comes to mind when I see you. Maybe I’ve known long enough to forget most of the time,” Alex seemed unconcerned. “Maria recommended you, and I figured if she trusted you, so could I.”
Michael shifts uncomfortably when Alex mentions trust.
“And like I said outside,” Alex continues, “I didn’t realize right away that you had other reasons for wanting this job.”
Michael realizes it’s his turn to explain. “We’ve thought your father might know about us for a while, but we didn’t know how to find out without tipping him off. When you came back to town, Isobel saw an opportunity. It seemed safer to try and get information from you rather than your father. Then she found out you needed someone to work on the house, and asked me to do it.”
“She asked you to seduce me,” Alex says flatly.
“Not like that,” Michael tells him hastily. He doesn’t want Alex to think sex was part of the plan, but he knows how it must look. “She just wanted me to get close to you, try and figure out what you knew.”
“And what did you find out,” Alex’s tone is cold. Michael can feel him pulling away, can feel the doubts about every interaction creeping in.
“Nothing more than you told me,” Michael admits.
He can see Alex running through their conversations in his head. He looks at Michael then sighs, “I wasn’t joking when I told you my father’s secrets were dangerous. But if anyone deserves to know them, it’s you.”
“Are you sure?” Michael shouldn’t ask, getting Alex to tell him the truth about Jesse has always been the goal, but he can’t help but want Alex to have a choice.
“The prison I mentioned earlier became a family project,” Alex continues, ignoring Michael’s question. “My father took it over from my grandfather. It was as horrible as you can imagine-experiments, torture, isolation. It’s a miracle any of the aliens survived at all let alone for as long as they did. Working there was its own kind of evil. It turned my father into the worst kind of zealot-one who truly believes what he’s doing is right, that he is standing between humanity and our destruction. That prison consumed him.”
“Is it still there?” Michael’s afraid of the answer. He longs to discover more of his species, but not if it means they’re still being imprisoned and tortured..
Alex shakes his head. “Several years ago, the Air Force pulled the funding and told my father to end the project. He didn’t, instead he funded it with his own money. But eventually he was caught. He should have been court martialed but the Air Force couldn’t risk a trial. Instead they destroyed the prison with all the remaining prisoners, all records and research inside of it.”
Michael can feel the blood drain from his face. It’s a horrible end to a horrible fate, and his last hopes of finding a family are destroyed with it. “Are you sure?” he can’t help but ask.
“I've seen the footage. When I got back to Roswell, I visited the site. There were no survivors. I’m sorry.”
Michael nods, lips pressed tightly together. There is nothing left to say.
“They made my father watch, but they should have left him in the prison to burn along with it. Let that be the legacy he always dreamed of,” Alex says bitterly.
Michael can’t help but laugh although it’s humorless.
“So that’s it?” Michael says. One stroke of a bureaucrats pen, and his whole species is gone. The secret they uncovered is nothing more than a story now, all the players dead. Michael wished he’d told Isobel no, that he’d never learned this truth.
“It should have been. I think my father would have given up after everything was destroyed, but he knows there are other aliens in Roswell.”
“You said,” Michael stands up, fear propelling him to his feet.
“Not you, not Max or Isobel,” Alex reassures him, holding up his hand to keep Michael there.
“How?” Michael asks, sitting back down. “If there was another alien, wouldn’t we know?”
“I don’t know,” Alex admits. “Nothing in all the records I’ve hacked indicated there were other survivors or how they could still be alive. But no one knew about Louise either. What I do know is over the last few years over a dozen people have been murdered-homeless people, vagrants, prostitutes. All the bodies have a glowing handprint on them.”
“Shit,” Michael buries his face in his hands. “If you know there is an alien murderer out there, why risk letting me get close to you?”
“The handprint is too big to be yours or Isobel’s, and it doesn’t match Max’s,” Alex says matter of factly. “My father and Jim Valenti covered up the murders for years. Now he has my brother Flint helping, insisting the murders are part of a military investigation and claiming the bodies. He won’t stop until he figures out who it is.”
“Liz Ortecho knows,” Michael blurts out. “At least about Max which means she knows about Isobel, I don’t know how much he’s actually told her. But she may have told Kyle Valenti who has been talking to your father.”
Alex’s face goes blank for a second. “Well, that changes things. My plan was to find out who this alien is before my father does and figure out how to stop them without resorting to genocidal prisons. But if he suspects any of you are aliens, he’ll assume you are involved in the murders, and I don’t know how quickly he will act.”
The theoretical danger of discovery Michael always feared was becoming very real. “I can’t let him hurt Max or Isobel.”
“He won’t,” Alex says with certainty. “I know what kind of monster my father is and exactly what he is capable of. I won’t let him hurt anyone else, including you.”
“You can’t promise that,” Michael shakes his head.
“This is what I’ve been working toward for years. It’s why I joined the Air Force. Not because I ever wanted to be in the military, but because I wanted to learn how to defeat him, how to take everything from him without him ever seeing me coming. I’ve kept your identity from him for years, that’s not going to change.”
“I can’t ask that of you.” Michael won’t trust his family’s safety to anyone else. He’s been alone his whole life, he doesn't know how to rely on someone else to watch out for him.
“You’re not asking. I’m doing this for me. I’m going to take my father down, and I’ll protect your secret while I do it. You don’t owe me anything. You don’t need to pretend,” Alex gestures between them.
“Alex,” Michael gets up and moves to sit next to him on the couch. Alex flinches, but waves Michael to the cushion next to him. “What happened between us wasn’t part of any plan. I wanted everything we did together, I wanted you.”
“And now?” Alex asks cautiously.
“I don’t know,” Michael looks down at his hands. “Even though what I felt was-is-real, it was built on a lie. I came here under false pretenses, I tried to manipulate you. I searched your house,” Michael forces himself to look back up. “And because of that, I know things about you-things that helped me fall in love with you-that aren’t mine to know. Maybe things you would never want me to know, but I do. How do we move past that?”
“I’ve been hiding my whole life,” Alex says quietly. “From my father, my brothers, my friends, everyone I ever served with. When enough of the people who are supposed to love and support you turn away, you have to believe the problem is you.”
“Alex,” Michael can’t help but interrupt, taking his hand. He knows that kind of pain and doubt. It had taken years of Max and Isobel refusing to be pushed away, and building relationships with people like Sanders and Maria for Michael to realize he could be loved. “It’s not you.”
“Maybe not, but that’s how I’ve lived my life. Keeping anything I valued, anything that made me different hidden. I’d like to think I would have learned to share those parts of me with you, but I don’t know how long it would have taken. It’s comforting to realize you know most of my secrets, and you haven’t run away. I’ve always been too afraid of letting someone know me to have a relationship. But I’m not afraid to be with you.”
Michael lets out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. He was prepared for anger, for Alex to say the betrayal was too big to come back from. Alex’s acceptance feels unearned, but Michael is grateful they still have a chance.
Because Alex still looks nervous and uncertain, Michael squeezes his hand and leans forward for a kiss. Alex meets his lips eagerly, his free hand coming up to tangle in Michael’s hair. It’s easy to get lost in the kiss, to push forward for more. But Alex pulls back, stroking Michael’s hair a few times before dropping his hand.
“You’re not the only one with an advantage,” Alex says. When Michael just looks at him, he continues. “Have you ever told anyone that you are an alien?”
“No,” Michael’s blood runs cold just thinking about it. It’s the number one rule drilled into his head-by Max, by his own fear of the consequences-no one can know. No matter how much he’d cared about Maria, he never considered telling her, never wanted to.
“I didn’t think so. And you didn’t choose to tell me either. And I can tell you again and again that you can trust me with this secret, that I won’t use it against you, but you are the one who has to be willing to believe me.”
Michael should be scared, but he’s not. Alex has known for over a decade. If Alex wanted to turn him in or hurt him, he’d had years to do it. But that brings up other questions. “Is that why you’re with me?”
“I don’t have ‘fuck an alien’ on my bucket list if that is what you are asking.” They both laugh.
“I don’t know what I’m asking,” Michael admits. “I’ve never been with anyone who knows what I am so I guess I’m wondering how it affects your feelings for me.”
“I don’t think it does. I won’t say it doesn’t matter because it’s part of who you are, and you matter. You being an alien isn’t something we can just ignore, but it’s not what I think of first when I think of you. It matters in that it’s one of the things that makes you the man I’m attracted to, the man I’m falling in love with.”
“I like the sound of that,” Michael admits. “You falling in love with me.”
This time it’s Alex who makes the first move, pulling Michael into the circle of his arms. He kisses Michael’s forehead and wraps his arm around him. Michael turns to nuzzle into his neck then surprises them both by yawning.
“Sorry,” Michael apologizes and rubs his eyes. “Now what?”
Alex looks at the table where their untouched beers are sweating into the coasters beneath them. “How about we get some fresh beers and sit by the firepit you built me. We can forget all this serious stuff for the night and talk about normal things.”
“Normal things?” Michael asks with a laugh.
“I don’t know,” Alex shrugs. “Music, movies, work. I’m sure you have a million questions about what I told you, and I have questions to, but”
“We aren’t going to solve the problem of your father or how whatever Liz and Kyle might know complicates that in one night,” Michael finishes.
“And we deserve a night to be together without secrets or hidden agendas. To start figuring out who we are together,” Alex adds.
“That sounds nice,” Michael admits. “But I don’t know how much I have in me.” He yawns again.
“So we’ll talk for a bit then see if that fancy shower you built me really is big enough for two, and you can stay here if you want.”
Michael definitely wants, and the way he kisses Alex leaves no doubt to his interest. “And tomorrow?” he asks almost breathlessly once the kiss ends.
“Tomorrow, we figure out how to destroy my father,” Alex holds out his hand, “together.”
Michael laces their fingers together. “Together sounds perfect.”
#malex fic#rnm fic#my fic#yotp 2023#honeypot mission#falling in love#happy ending#Michael and Alex will always fall in love#angst with a happy ending#secrets#maria deluca friendly
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C-PTSD/Trauma discussion under the cut.
In January 2009, I was sexually assaulted by a then-close friend and then almost abducted from a public park just a few days later. I was also dealing with another situation I don't want to elaborate on, but all three of these things severely fucked me up. I had a nervous breakdown and the PTSD I was likely already suffering from due to things from my childhood/teen years got more severe. I was having panic attacks, sometimes violent ones, and was developing some worrying habits and behaviors.
So many of my "friends", my ex-boyfriend, and even my own mother made me feel like shit during this time of my life. My mom called my panic attacks "tantrums" and often belittled me over them. My friends would talk behind my back about how I had "changed" and I wasn't the same person anymore. I was treated either like a joke - something to make fun of - or like I was a burden, or like I was somebody that people had to tolerate. I would find posts online from people I thought loved and cared about me where I found out I was lied to, referred to as a waste of space, dead weight, etc.
This is exactly what my song "Breathing Dust" is about. I was too poor to live on my own and had to live in a dilapidated house with my mother during this nervous breakdown time, a house filled with black mold, dust, roaches, cigarette smoke, the whole nine yards, and on top of it all, my mom was very fanatically religious and kept chalking up all of my problems to me leaving the Catholic church. I did everything I could to get out of that house, including spending time with these "friends" and my ex who just treated me like garbage.
I wasn't formally diagnosed with PTSD or C-PTSD until November 2017. It took that long for a therapist to finally figure out that I was a deeply traumatized person and needed help. Since then I have been placed on medication that has helped me tremendously and gotten the therapy and psychiatric help that I needed. My relationship with my mom is much better. I live in my own apartment with my partner of nearly 11 years and we both have good jobs. I have friends who genuinely love me and support me in everything I do. Life has gotten so much better and I'm thankful every single day.
This morning though...something happened that was a huge trigger for my C-PTSD and it was part of a situation that's been playing out for months. I don't want to go into details on main, but I've been treated like a joke by a couple of people in a very similar way to how I was treated all those years ago, and this morning I just broke. I rarely ever cry or have breakdowns/panic attacks anymore (which I'm so grateful for), but this morning I couldn't contain the wave of emotion I felt. I spent an hour crying and shaking and feeling so small, feeling like I wasn't taken seriously or seen as someone deserving of respect.
I've had to fight to remind myself that yes, I AM loved by the people who really know me. I AM strong. I AM a survivor. I AM worthy of love and respect. Two shitty people can't make me feel like I'm not worth the love and respect that I know I deserve. I might have have a meltdown today, but it is NOT a setback for my mental health journey. Everybody breaks down sometimes . It's okay. I am strong enough in myself to get through this because I know that the things a minority of people say are not true.
By talking about this, I hope that maybe some of you can relate and find hope, too. If you're in a place where I was a few years ago where every day feels like a fight to stay alive, or if you've recently had a meltdown that feels like a setback from all of the mental and emotional progress you've made - you're not alone and it's okay. I'm busy a lot of the time, but you can talk to me if you need to. I might not answer right away, but I will answer you.
We're in this together.
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Can I love again? [a Roman Reigns story] 20 I can love again
I stood at the window and let my eyes travel around. He was such a beautiful place. I was glad we had found it.
"Nervous?" asked Renée as she handed me my bouquet.
"Not at all." I replied with a smile as Dean entered the room.
"Is the bride ready? It's almost time." he said, giving his wife a quick kiss.
"Yes, I'm ready. How is he?" I wanted to know.
"He's excited. And I'm sure he'll cry at the sight of you." said Dean, smiling.
"Aww! Are you saying I look good?" I asked laughing.
"You do. I'm glad you guys found each other." he replied.
"Thank you, Dean. For everything." I said and had to pull myself together so I wouldn't start crying. Besides, I didn't want to mess up my makeup.
"Nah, not for that. But remind me again... why does Seth get to do the cooler job?" he wanted to know, pouting a little.
"Well, we thought you'd have a hard time not making inappropriate comments," I explained again.
"She's got a point, babe." giggled Renée.
"Maybe you're right." he grumbled.
"And your job is pretty damn important, too. For today, you're my dad. You have to make sure I don't trip. It's your job to give me to Roman. But if it makes you feel any better.... if Roman doesn't cry or if Seth says something inappropriate, you can kick them," I replied.
"That sounds good. Then let's go. The sunset waits for no one," he said and then held out his arm for me to join him.
As Roman and I talked about our ideas for our wedding, we realized almost immediately that we wanted to keep it as small and intimate as possible. We'd both had big, elaborate weddings. Now we wanted to focus on just us. We would have preferred to do it all by ourselves, but we both knew that wouldn't have gone over well with his mom.
And here we were. On our wedding day in January. We found this beautiful white gazebo that had a gorgeous view over the Tampa Bay. It was perfect for us and our 25 guests.
Everything, just everything had gone smoothly during the preparations. I had found a dress right away. It was a knee length, ivory lace dress. The location didn't have a reservation that very day and everyone who was invited had time.
I was convinced that our angels had something to do with it. They watched over us and helped us to do everything as we imagined it. Today they were very close to us. I just felt that.
Renée gave the signal to the guitar player to start playing. The classical Canon in D by Pachelbel. I have always loved that.
On Dean's arm I slowly walked towards the gazebo where Roman would be waiting for me. As soon as our eyes met, I saw him start to smile happily, but at the same time the first tears glistened in his beautiful eyes.
"Looks like he won't get a kick." Dean whispered to me as we arrived by my future husband.
He then gave me a kiss on the cheek and placed my hand in Roman's meaningfully.
"You look stunning, angel," he breathed.
"You look stunning too, Romeo," I replied.
"Dearly beloved guests. We are gathered here today to celebrate love with Roman and Y/N. I am sure you will all agree with me when I say that no one deserves it more than these two.
I was there when Roman saw Y/N for the first time. And let me tell you, from the first moment on he was smitten. The two were meant to find each other. It was destined and no matter what obstacles they have faced or will face, I just know that they are strong enough to make it through.
Fate has not always been kind to them, but neither of them has let it destroy them. On the contrary, we have here two extraordinary people who together form an inseparable, strong unit.
Roman, please tell Y/N what she means to you," said Seth who officiated the ceremony.
"Y/N, my angel. Seth is right. As soon as I laid eyes on you I was smitten. I immediately felt the need to take you in my arms and comfort you. From that moment on, you had my full attention.
I didn't know it back then, but I found something in you that I wasn't even looking for. You taught me to enjoy life to the fullest, because none of us knows how much time we really have. With you by my side, life is so much more beautiful and precious. I promise to love and honor you. I will protect you. And I will be grateful to you every single day for bringing love back into my life.
You are truly a gift from the heavens. You are the strongest person I know. You are the sweetest thing I know. Y/N, you are the only woman who has touched my heart and at the same time you have healed my soul. I love you, Y/N. More every day." Roman said while holding my hand tightly, looking deep into my eyes and then sliding my wedding band on my finger.
"Roman, my Romeo. With you I feel safe. From the first time I leaned my head against your chest to fall asleep, I felt safe and comfortable. They say it's darkest before the dawn. And I can say that this is true. You came into my life as a shining light. A light that showed me that it is not only possible to move on, but that it is okay to do so.
You accepted my past and helped me to do the same. And although the pain will never go away completely, it is so much easier to bear as long as you are by my side. You make me happy. So incredibly happy. I am grateful to you for coming into my life and I am grateful to the angels who sent you to me. I can live again and more importantly, I can love again!
For your undying support and care alone, I will always be grateful. You healed my broken heart and soothed the pain in my soul. You are the love everyone deserves and seeks in their life. I love you and I will always love you," I said with tears running down my cheeks. I took a deep breath and then put Roman's ring on my finger.
We waited for Seth to continue, but nothing happened.
"Seth?" asked Roman, looking at him.
"What, oh yeah, sorry. That was beautiful." he sniffled and everything present had to laugh. I couldn't see it, but I was sure Dean was rolling his eyes.
"Do you, Roman Reigns, take Y/N to be your lawfully wedded wife?" asked Seth after clearing his throat.
"I do!" replied Roman in a firm voice.
"And you, Y/N L/N, do you take, Roman as your lawfully wedded husband?" he asked me.
"I do!" I answered, beaming.
"By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife. Roman, you may kiss the bride." said Seth, sounding very proud.
Carefully, Roman took my face in his hands and gave me a loving kiss. The first kiss as my husband. Our first kiss as a married couple.
This right here was a sign that miracles really can happen.
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𝗗𝗮𝘆 𝟱 - 𝗖𝗵𝗿𝗶𝘀𝘁𝗺𝗮𝘀 𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗻𝘁!
𝗔 𝘀𝗲𝗿𝗶𝗲𝘀 𝗶𝗻 𝘄𝗵𝗶𝗰𝗵 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝘀𝗽𝗲𝗻𝗱 𝗮 𝘄𝗼𝗻𝗱𝗲𝗿𝗳𝘂𝗹 𝟮𝟰 𝗱𝗮𝘆𝘀 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗺 𝗯𝗲𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗲 𝗖𝗵𝗿𝗶𝘀𝘁𝗺𝗮𝘀 𝗶𝗻 𝗮 𝗺𝗼𝗱𝗲𝗿𝗻 𝘀𝗲𝘁𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴!
𝗥𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿 𝗶𝘀 𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗱𝗲𝗿 𝗻𝗲𝘂𝘁𝗿𝗮𝗹
𝗟𝗼𝘃𝗲 𝗹𝗲𝘁𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗲𝘅𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗻𝗴𝗲 𝘄/ 𝗟𝘂𝗸𝗲
—
𝗱𝗮𝘆 𝟱 𝗯𝗮𝗯𝘆! 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗵𝗮𝗽𝗽𝘆 𝗯𝗶𝗿𝘁𝗵𝗱𝗮𝘆 𝗹𝘂𝗸𝗲! 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗼𝗻𝗲 𝘄𝗮𝘀 𝗽𝗹𝗮𝗻𝗻𝗲𝗱 𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝘀𝗼 𝗶 𝗵𝗼𝗽𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗲𝗻𝗷𝗼𝘆 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗽𝗶𝗲𝗰𝗲 :)
𝗠𝗮𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁
𝗰𝗵𝗲𝗰𝗸 𝗯𝗶𝗼 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝗿𝗲𝗾𝘂𝗲𝘀𝘁 𝘀𝘁𝗮𝘁𝘂𝘀
You patiently wait for Luke to arrive back home, the letter you wrote sitting in your lap. You had planned this for quite some time, already predicting that he was not gonna take the day off. He was stubborn like that.
Luke’s birthday was something you thought about for a while. Growing up with him, you had given him many gifts before with deep meanings. This one had to be no different. You wanted to give him something he was going to love and cherish.
A letter may not seem like much, but you poured your heart and soul into it, just for Luke. Along with it was a present you had, but that would be received after your dinner together.
“[Name]? I’m back!”
You smile as you stand, greeting your lover with a kiss. “Welcome back, my love. Happy birthday!”
Luke smiled. “You remembered!” He says, taking your hands in his. “I’m sorry for not being here until now. Work did need me today.”
“It’s okay! Come along, I have a surprise for you.”
You lead Luke to the couch, sitting him down. You move to grab your letter from before, hiding it behind your back.
You weren’t going to deny how nervous you were. The words all came from you and your heart, but what if Luke didn’t appreciate the gift? You know that wasn’t like him, but that thought wouldn’t stop nagging at the back of your mind.
With a deep breath, you hold out the letter in front of you. “Here!”
“A letter?” Luke questioned, taking it from your hands.
“Yes! A present and just some.. words.”
Luke opens the letter carefully, unfolding it to see the contents. The papers themselves were nice, and even the writing on it was intricately done. Done with care and thought.
‘My dearest Sherlock,
Happy birthday, my love! I’ve been wanting to write this kind of letter for a while now, but couldn’t find the best words to convey how I felt. So, I decided to start writing this in January, and add onto it each month. I always have so much to say to you, so this is the most thoughtful way I could let you know how I feel. So, with each month, I added onto the reasons why I love you. I truly hope this letter reaches your heart, because that’s where it’s from. My own.
All my love, your Watson.’
The letter continued on multiple pages, each page containing contents from the month that year. It had so many reasons for why you love him, the times you have spent together, and so many gratitude words from the bottom of your heart.
Luke Pearce was not normally one to cry. He had to learn how to suppress such strong emotions when it came to his work. But this? This allowed him to let a tear run down his cheek. A tear of happiness. He was.. so so happy.
“Darling..” He whispered, voice barely audible.
“Aww, Luke!” You say with a smile, wiping the stray tear from his cheek. “No tears! No crying on your birthday.”
The ginger truly had no words for you. He loved the gift. The further down he read on the page, the more full his heart felt.
He had never felt so loved in his life.
“I, uhm.. I actually have something for you.”
You tilt your head in confusion as Luke stands, walking to your shared bedroom. Something for you? On his birthday? That was certainly the last thing you were expecting.
He emerged a moment later with a similar letter in hand. “Okay, I’m not exactly the best with words.. I am better with letters though.”
He hands you the creased paper. Luke sits next to you, placing a hand around your waist as you open the note.
‘To my partner, [Name],
At the time I’m writing this, I’m so very hopelessly in love with you. You do not know that yet, but hopefully, if I gather the courage, you will soon. This letter is everything I think I need to say, so here it goes.
Do you remember that promise I made to you as a kid? One day, under a random tree, I randomly said that I was going to marry you. It was after you kissed some random person moments before, and told me about it. Except none of it was random. It was the tree in the middle of our favourite park they closed 5 years later. That random person was the top scholar at our school. And the moment I said it wasn’t random, it meant the world to me.
I have kept that promise close to my heart since then. It replays everyday in my mind, like a broken record. It won’t stop until it’s fulfilled, but marriage is too far away from this letter. No, this letter is about love.
I can never stop thinking about you, it’s intoxicating. And you needed to know this. You needed to know how much I love you.
From the way this note is going, it’s most likely gonna stay a draft. If I’m being honest, I don’t know why I’m still writing in it. Maybe I just need this before I embarrass myself in the actual letter.
I love you, [Name]. My Watson. My best friend. My everything. My star and soulmate. This letter won’t reach you physically, but hopefully it does in your heart.
- Your Sherlock, Luke.’
“Luke..”
“I didn’t mean to steal this moment from you.” Luke starts, pulling your hands in his. “But after seeing the amount of love and care you put in that letter, I thought of this to be the best moment to show you that.”
You smile, leaning forward to hug your boyfriend. “It’s beautiful, Luke. A true example of your raw feelings, the exact thing I wanna experience.”
The two of you pull from the hug, only to lean into a loving kiss. All the passion and emotion is there between you both, and you couldn’t be happier.
��Alright!” You say once you both pull away. “Let’s eat dinner, and then you can have your other present!”
Luke’s eyes widened. “Another gift?! You spoil me, my love.”
“Anything for my Sherlock.”
𝗰𝗵𝗲𝗰𝗸 𝗯𝗶𝗼 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝗿𝗲𝗾𝘂𝗲𝘀𝘁 𝘀𝘁𝗮𝘁𝘂𝘀
Tags: @deffenferofjustice (link to be tagged here!)
#tot x reader#tot#luke tears of themis#tears of themis x reader#tears of themis#luke pearce#luke pearce x reader#luke x reader#luke x you
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The Importance of Intentions
Summay: Logan finally figures out what's been going on with Deceit by having it shoved in his face.
Author’s Note: Heads up, this fic probably won't make much sense if you haven't read the one it's inspired by. The TSS Fanworks Collective discord server did a remix challenge during January, and this is what I wrote for it! It’s a scene from the incomplete “All the Wrong Reasons, and a Few More” by @alicat54c that would have taken place later in that fic (or at least, my imagined version of the scene that would have taken place). If you still want to read this without the other though, hey, I can't stop you. I hope it's enjoyed either way!
...
“Logan?”
Logan stopped in the middle of his sentence and turned in surprise. Deceit did not tend to interrupt Logan when he was speaking. In fact, it was so uncommon that Logan found himself feeling slightly concerned.
“Yes, can I help you with something?” he replied anyway. “Do you need me to go over that part again?”
“No no, I understand it quite well, you’re a brilliant teacher,” Deceit said. “I merely wanted to make an offer that’s been on my mind as of late.”
Logan’s gaze turned curious. “An offer?” Deceit wasn’t the type to just offer something out of the blue. Especially when it interrupted Logan, which he seemed to greatly dislike doing, and when it interrupted their lesson, which he’d said he gained a lot from. If Deceit was offering something at a seemingly random time with little build up, something else had to be going on.
“Yes,” Deceit said, smoothly as ever. “I have… I’ve noticed since coming over here that you and the others argue quite a lot.”
Logan couldn’t help stiffening slightly. He didn’t like thinking about his relationships with Patton and Roman as purely antagonistic. Though it was true that the three of them seldom agreed, that didn’t mean he didn’t recognize what the two of them brought to the table. Every side had their own unique attributes and importances, after all.
“We do not argue, Deceit,” Logan corrected. “We disagree sometimes, but that is not the same thing.”
There was a moment of what almost felt like confused silence from Deceit, but finally, he cleared his throat.
“Well, regardless, if you wanted some support, I am once again offering to supply it, and—”
“And once again, I appreciate the offer, Deceit,” Logan said, turning back to his whiteboard. “But I do not need assistance in managing my own relationships.”
“You get along with Anxiety, don’t you?” Deceit asked, seeming to ignore Logan’s statement.
“I suppose that’s an accurate statement,” Logan said. “I was being sincere when I said I didn’t mind his company.”
“Well, that is the change to my offer,” Deceit said, sounding almost nervous for a reason Logan couldn’t explain. “You may find us to be more enjoyable company as well as beneficial allies.”
Logan turned around, raising an eyebrow. “I do not dislike the company of my current companions, Deceit,” he said. “I would advise against implying so. I am also curious as to why you are making an offer I’ve already turned down. Do you think something has changed?”
Deceit said nothing, and Logan looked at him for a moment. After a second, he realized that Deceit still seemed nervous.
Oh. Maybe something had changed.
“Deceit,” Logan said slowly. “Is everything alright?”
“I,” Deceit said, looking vaguely ill. “I need to ask a favor.” He clenched his hands tightly around the hem of his cloak.
Logan narrowed his eyes and stepped forward. “What’s going on?”
“I could make it worth your while,” Deceit said, still looking very uncomfortable even as he stepped forward.
Logan narrowed his eyes and took another step forward, crossing his arms. “Worth my while how?”
In response, Deceit took two steps across the room and kissed Logan firmly on the mouth.
Logan made a muffled noise of surprise, but couldn’t manage to push Deceit away before he pressed into Logan further, pushing himself up into Logan while simultaneously making himself smaller, like he was somehow trying to let Logan lead whatever this was supposed to be.
Very well then.
Logan brought his hands up in between them and pushed Deceit very firmly backwards.
He glared at Deceit in what he hoped came across as disgust, but he had never been good at showing emotions, and it probably tilted more towards shock than he really wanted.
“What,” Logan snapped anyway, and that at least came across as properly furious. “Are you doing, Deceit?”
Deceit looked startled, as well as unsure what to say. And Logan might have asked again what he was doing, but now that he thought about it, the conclusion wasn’t really a difficult one to draw.
“Is— are you insinuating that you think I would be willing to help you in exchange for physical intimacy?” Logan asked. He adjusted his glasses in an attempt to give his rage somewhere to go, but it didn’t work terribly well. “For Thomas’ sake, I’m not— what kind of person do you think I am?”
Logan turned around and took several very deep breaths. With how clearly uncomfortable Deceit had been during the conversation, the idea he put forth definitely hadn’t been an enjoyable one to him. Which was insulting in its own right, not that Logan didn’t understand— he wasn’t exactly the most physically appealing side. But that wasn’t even the most insulting part, that being that Deceit thought that Logan would be okay with that kind of arrangement. Why would he even be willing to offer such a thing if it seemed so disgusting to him?
Logan paused. Why would he be willing to offer such a thing if it seemed so disgusting to him?
He turned quickly around again, finding Deceit still looking at him with wide, almost frightened eyes.
Logan drew himself upward, putting on a cold and calculating mask to hide the anger and annoyingly large amount of hurt that came with what Deceit had just done. “Why would you be willing to offer something like that?” Logan said. “What do you want, Deceit?”
Deceit swallowed. “Are you asking me to be honest with you?” he said weakly.
“You more than owe it to me after that disaster,” Logan said, tilting his chin upwards.
Deceit still looked like he might be sick, but he nodded weakly, so Logan stepped back and crossed his arms and waited for him to say something else.
Finally, Deceit spoke up.
“Anxiety and the Duke,” he said quietly. “Are going to be coming back to life in a couple days. I just need some help watching their backs until they’re strong enough to do it themselves.”
Logan blinked. He ran over Deceit’s words in his head. He blinked again.
“I— pardon?”
Deceit looked almost distressed in the next second. “Don’t make me be honest twice,” he said, looking away.
“Are you saying that Anxiety and the Duke are currently not alive?” Logan asked in astonishment. “What on earth could have resulted in such? And why would they need help watching their own backs? I don’t even think such a thing is possible without a mirror.”
“It’s an expression,” Deceit said, looking up at the ceiling. “I… I need help to protect them.” He spat the word ‘help’ like it was vile, and there were a number of concerning implications around that, but that was not the current priority.
“To protect them from what?” Logan asked, narrowing his eyes.
Deceit squeezed his eyes shut with a sigh.
“Deceit,” Logan said slowly. “I don’t think you’re done explaining this to me. I’m going to need you to tell me everything that you think is going to happen to Anxiety and the Duke. I apologize if you dislike this, but I need more information about what is happening.”
Deceit sighed again, looking unhappy and distressed and so, so tired. Finally, however, he opened his eyes and looked at Logan. “Alright.”
…
Logan found Patton and Roman in the kitchen. He’d left Deceit in his room currently with reassurances that he’d return, though Deceit didn’t look like he knew whether or not to believe him. Patton was baking cookies, and Roman appeared to be a taste tester of the cookie dough, though Logan dreaded to think what effect all of the raw egg would have on his stomach tomorrow.
“Patton, Roman,” Logan said, drawing both of their attention. “I need to tell you something that’s happening.”
The phrasing seemed to catch them off guard, which Logan could understand, though after everything he’d just heard, what was happening would certainly not be up for debate.
“Oh, okay kiddo, what’s going on?” Patton asked, sliding a tray of cookies into the oven and closing it before turning to face Logan.
“I have been speaking with Deceit,” Logan said, and immediately Patton and Roman both looked uneasy.
“I understand your feelings about him,” Logan said, holding up a hand before either of them could speak. “But I am going to have to insist that he, as well as his companions of Anxiety and the Duke, be brought over here to stay for the foreseeable future. Possibly indefinitely, though I understand that will need to be a separate conversation.”
He got stunned stares in response.
“Uh, Teach,” Roman said, leaning forward and raising his eyebrows. “Have you lost your marbles?”
“I do not own marbles,” Logan said. He adjusted his glasses so the way his hands were shaking with many repressed emotions would not be as obvious.
“Are you sure you’ve thought this through, kiddo?” Patton asked. “This is kind of out nowhere, is all.”
“I understand,” Logan said. “But the three of them are in danger.”
Patton blinked in surprise and alarm, and Roman took a step towards Logan.
“Wait, what? What do you mean they’re in danger?”
“Precisely that,” Logan said. “Deceit has informed me that our preconceived notions about what life is like living in the subconscious are far from accurate. It does not appear that it is safe for the three of them to live there.”
“Safe?” Roman said, his hand going to his sword seemingly on instinct. “What do you mean they’re not safe?”
“Precisely that,” Logan said again with a sigh. “I understand this is surprising news for all of us, but I would like to have this issue relatively resolved sooner rather than later so I can go to bed. It has been a very long day.”
“Logan,” Patton said, walking across the room and reaching out to put a hand on Logan’s arm. “Are you okay?”
“I am fine,” Logan said, pulling his arm away.
Patton bit his lip. “You seem upset,” he said hesitantly.
Logan took a breath. “Is it so strange for this news to be rather distressing?”
“I guess not,” Patton said, though he didn’t look satisfied.
“Okay, let’s— hang on,” Roman said, stepping forward. “Where are Deceit and Anxiety and Re— the Duke right now?”
“Deceit is in my room,” Logan said. He hesitated for a moment before saying, “I have been told that Anxiety and the Duke are currently dead.”
“What?”
“According to Deceit they should reform in a couple of days,” Logan said. “This is apparently… a common occurrence.”
Roman turned and leaned back against the counter, looking very shaken. Patton pressed a clenched first to his mouth, looking very concerned.
Logan sighed. “I understand we’ll all want to discuss this more,” he said quietly. “But I’m tired, and I’d like to go to bed. Can I go tell Deceit what’s going on?”
Patton looked at Logan and nodded. “Do you want to send him out here? I can do it,” he said quietly.
“I appreciate that, but no,” Logan said. “I’m not sure he’d believe you.”
Patton nodded again, and turned to say something quietly to Roman. Logan walked out to let them finish talking.
Deceit was still in Logan’s room when he got back, standing in the middle like he didn’t know if he was allowed to sit. He turned immediately when he noticed Logan opening the door, looking startled and a little frightened again.
Logan knew for sure that if he started talking to him for too long right now, he’d get angry again, which would not help the situation. So instead, he pointed out of his room.
“As soon as Anxiety and the Duke reform you can bring them straight here,” he said. “Now get out of my room.”
Deceit blinked. “What do you mean I can bring them—”
“I know you heard me, Deceit. Take all of the time to process that you need but get out of my room, now.”
Deceit looked at Logan for a second longer and then left without another word.
…
Logan, as the one who best knew first aid on this side of the mindscape, assisted quite a bit with Anxiety and the Duke’s care when they reformed, but otherwise he did not speak to Deceit. Even when he was helping, he made sure he came across as very obviously cold and professional. He wasn’t going to let Anxiety or the Duke suffer for things that weren’t their fault, but he wasn’t going to let Deceit figuratively off the hook, either.
Logan wasn’t exactly good at identifying his emotions. There were times that they were still very much a point of shame for him, and he’d rather get rid of them altogether. But the way that he clenched his hands when he thought about Deceit, the way his heart rate spiked and his shoulders tensed and he often grew irritable and felt a sudden urge to throw something, was painting a picture too clear for even Logan to ignore. He was angry.
And goddammit, he had a right to be.
Obviously Deceit was in an impossible situation. Obviously Logan understood that the mental pathways he was used to reinforcing would not make it easy for Deceit to ask another side for help. Obviously it would have been unreasonable to just expect Deceit to act against so many parts of his nature, for numerous reasons.
But Logan did not have to roll over and take everything lying down either. And Deceit had not acted in any of his behavior towards Logan with the consideration of Logan’s wellbeing in mind. Because how, exactly, was Logan supposed to trust that any of it had been genuine?
And that made him angry, obviously. And there was nothing unreasonable about that.
So when Deceit approached him outside of their unspoken agreed interactions that were helping Anxiety and the Duke, Logan did not exactly treat him with charity.
“I am busy,” he said, closing the door again in Deceit’s face.
“Logan,” Deceit said, knocking on the door again. “I need to talk to you.”
Logan narrowed his eyes and opened the door again. “Is something wrong with Anxiety or the Duke?”
“No, but—”
“I see,” Logan said, and he went to shut the door again.
Before he could, however, Deceit jammed his foot in between the door and the frame, and Logan closed it quite hard on his foot.
The wince that Deceit couldn’t quite seem to hide made it clear that Logan had hurt him.
Logan sighed inwardly and pulled the door open again. “That was unwise.”
“I need to talk to you,” Deceit said again.
Logan crossed his arms. “And I should listen because?”
Deceit looked up at the ceiling and, looking like he was dragging the word out over sandpaper, said, “Please.”
Logan raised an eyebrow slightly, breathed in, and sighed out. He turned and walked back inside his room, leaving the door open for Deceit to follow.
Deceit did, shutting the door after him.
“I don’t think we have much to talk about,” Logan said, turning around as he reached his desk and leaning back against it.
“I,” Deceit said, then looked down at the floor and grumbled something.
“What?”
Deceit looked up, squeezed his eyes shut, and repeated “I wanted to say I’m sorry.”
Logan looked at him for a moment. “Very well,” he said finally. “You’ve said it. You can go now.”
“Logan,” Deceit said, sounding almost exasperated.
“Deceit,” Logan said, deadpan. “Please explain to me why you think I should feel the need to forgive you, or accept your apology.”
Deceit squeezed his hands into fists. “Do you have the first clue how difficult this is for me,” he said.
“I can imagine,” Logan said. “I did not say that I do not understand your actions, Deceit. You felt cornered, and you did not have an alternative solution from your previous life experience aside from manipulating people to get what you want. I can perfectly understand your thought process and your behavior.”
“Then why are you still holding it over me?” Deceit snapped.
“I am not holding it over you, I am angry,” Logan snapped back. “I do not have to forgive you because I understand your reasoning. I do not have to want to be around you who when you have proven that you do not enjoy my company unless it can get you something. I understand you, Deceit, but that does not mean I want to enact my relationships the way you seem to think they work. It will only end with someone getting hurt. I understand that working the way you did was necessary where you came from, but it is not necessary here, and I don’t want to spend time around you if you’re only ever trying to manipulate me. I do not enjoy being manipulated.”
“All communication is manipulation,” Deceit muttered, which was such an obvious deflection that Logan actually laughed.
Deceit looked back at him for a second, and Logan simply crossed his arms and raised his eyebrow, daring him to say something else.
Deceit groaned. “I don’t understand why you can’t let it go!” he exclaimed. “The interactions happened, we spent time together and you enjoyed it, who cares what my intentions were?”
“I do,” Logan said simply. “I would not require you to be honest 100% of the time, Deceit, but I would like to know your honest opinion of me. I do not want you to force yourself to spend time with me. I do not ever want you to force yourself to partake in physical intimacy with me.”
“It wouldn’t,” Deceit said, and then stopped.
“If you are going to say something,” Logan said, getting very irritated with all of this. “Come out with it.”
Deceit glared up at him. “It wouldn’t have been that forced,” he spat.
Logan threw his hands up. “Oh! Partially consented to intimacy! Well, that fixes everything then!”
“I mean,” Deceit snapped, taking a couple steps forward until he could glare at Logan nose-to-nose. “That I did not hate every solitary second I spent with you. Even at the beginning it wasn’t all bad. I do like you and I would have liked spending time with you more if I wasn’t constantly worried about something else. And I would have— a little more than not minded kissing you, if it wasn’t something I had to do for someone else!”
Deceit stopped talking and dropped his hand in his hands, taking a couple deep breaths. “Now please stop making me be honest,” he grumbled.
Logan blinked. He had not thought that was where Deceit stood on this at all.
“I assumed,” he said slowly. “That you found me unappealing.”
Deceit raised his head to stare at him. “Have you looked at yourself lately?”
Logan sputtered and crossed his arms. “That’s not— that’s not the point.”
Deceit sighed and shook his head. “No, it never is, is it. You always want something else.” He looked back at Logan. “You know, this all could have been a lot easier if you wanted simpler things.”
“Oh, so this is my fault?” Logan asked, narrowing his eyes.
“Of course not. I’m just saying, you made my life awfully difficult.”
Logan huffed. “Well, please do forgive me.”
“You’re forgiven,” Deceit said, with just the barest hint of a smile.
They both looked at each other for a minute.
Logan pressed his hand against his forehead and laughed, and after a second Deceit joined in, though much quieter than Logan. They both stood there for a minute laughing, Logan imagined neither of them quite sure at what. At the situation, he supposed, and their place in it. At how horrible and ludicrous all of this was.
Finally, Logan pulled his hands through his hair, and stood back to look at Deceit, who stopped and looked back at him. “You,” he said plainly, “hurt me.”
Deceit swallowed. “I’m sorry.”
Logan shook his head. “I forgive you.”
Deceit smiled just a little bit.
“However,” Logan said, holding up a hand. “I am still going to need some time. I do not want to figuratively jump right back into a relationship that started from such an unhealthy place. I would rather get to know you as a person first. Especially before we begin talking about anything along the lines of…” Logan cleared his throat. “What we want to define ourselves as.”
Deceit nodded. “Okay.”
“Nevertheless,” Logan said, adjusting his glasses. “Please know my door is always open, Deceit.”
Deceit nodded, then bit his lip. Before Logan could ask if he was alright, Deceit reached for his glove and pulled it off.
Logan looked curiously down at it, then back up at Deceit.
Deceit held up his hand and looked at Logan. “My name is Janus,” he said, and Logan blinked, startled.
“What?”
Janus pulled the glove back on quickly, seeming almost relieved to do so, and started fidgeting with it. “Just as, you know, a display of trust and all that,” he muttered.
Logan stared at him for a minute. “Thank you,” he said quietly, because Janus had been very obliging in this conversation and he wanted to at least acknowledge that. “That… did not look easy.”
Janus made some kind of affirmative noise. Then he turned and started for the door. “I’m going to go check on Anxiety and the Duke,” he said. He glanced hesitantly one last time over his shoulder. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”
Logan considered, then nodded.
Janus looked relieved as he left. And well, Logan wasn’t Deceit. He wasn’t going to lie and say he didn’t feel the same.
#sanders sides#logan sanders#janus sanders#loceit#platonic logicality#platonic logince#logan doesn't know janus' name in this one btw#my fic
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Tattooed Wings Kinktober 30, Cockwarming
WORDS: 1717
“Hey, hey, hey there now everyone, what’s up? This is Mollie, reporting live from Santigo Stadium in New York City, where I am sitting with Type O Negative’s lead singer and bass player, Peter Steele and his soulmate and wife, the always lovely, ever enchanting, Mary Claire Ratajzck!”
“Dia dhuit!” Mary Claire chirped from her place on Peter’s lap, her arms tossed causally around his neck as she sat on his bare cock. Peter held a glass of red wine in his hand almost lazily, his arm slung around his wife’s slender waist as he hugged her in closely to his broad chest. “How’s everyone doing tonight?”
Peter just grunted as he held up his cup as though saluting the viewers tuning in for the live broadcast. He told Mary Claire that he wouldn’t say anything unless absolutely necessary, for great fear that he would give away his wife cockwarming him in ‘secret’.
“First off, congratulations on tying the knot you two! But I do have to ask, why a courthouse wedding?”
“I have really bad anxiety,” Mary Claire began. “So bad in fact, that sometimes I legit thinks I need to be hospitalized. The very idea of having a wedding- of any size, mind you- made my mind race thinking of all the things that could go wrong, so when I expressed a desire for a courthouse wedding, Peter was quick to agree to accommodate my wants and needs.”
“How do your families feel about you two being married? I’d imagine the age gap weirds out a lot of people.”
“Peter and I don’t really care about what other people think,” Mary Claire answered sweetly. “The number one thing is that we’re both fully consenting adults. Though it would be weird if I was a minor, which thankfully, I’m not. Peter is double my age and at first, the age difference kinda made me a little bit weirded out because what if he thinks I’m too immature? and what if he finds someone who’s closer to his age and they clique really well with each other? just… you know?”
“Reasonable fears. Now, tell me about your families. What do they think about PeteClaire?”
“Oh, is that what Peter’s fans are calling us?” Mary Claire laughed. “My daddy is really cool with Peter- whenever we’re over at his house, they spend hours down in his workshop, doing- whatever is it that men do inside garages. My brothers on the other hand, gave him a bit of a hard time when they first met him, however, time has since made them kind of adopted him as an older brother. My little sisters like him well enough, Jackie enjoys talking cars with him and Sammi tells him wild stories of what happened at the tattoo parlor where she works. Peter’s sisters now, they seem to really adore me,” Mary Claire said, purposely leaving out her abusive mother’s thoughts on her oldest daughter being married to a man double her age.
“Remind me how many brothers you have and what they all do for a living? Speaking of which, what do you do for a living?”
“Adam is a navy SEAL, Benjimen is a MMA fighter. Caleb is a professional boxer, Daniel is the quarterback for the New Orleans Saints, Ephraim is CIA, Frank is SWAT, and Gideon took the smart way out and followed in daddy’s footsteps and became a lawyer,” Mary Claire listed, making her soulmate dig his fingers into her waist as he recalled how nervous he was at meeting her seven terrifying older, physically bigger brothers.
“They were going to kill me when I first met them all,” Peter deadpanned, earning him a playful smack on the chest from his talkative wife.
“Adesso basta con te amore mio,” scowled the petite redhead, clenching her walls a little bit and making the older man bite back a savage growl, instead taking a long sip from his wine glass. “Anyways, to answer your second question, I’m a published author with a set niche in the young adult fantasy genre. My latest book is coming out on January 6th, so be certain to keep a lookout everyone!”
“Wow, that’s really impressive! Switching the subject really quickly, Peter, I understand that you’re writing a new album. You said before that you’re going to try and branch away from the heavy metal/ hard rock style of music and lean more towards gentler tunes. Do you care to elaborate a little bit more on that for me?”
“Certainly,” Peter shot the interviewer a charming smile. “I am dedicating this new album to Mary Claire Ratajzck, the love of my life, and she has stated before that she’s really not a big fan of Type O Negative’s usual style of music, so I’m going with something a little bit tamer. I really hope that everyone likes it.”
“Well, I’m certain that I’ll like it! Tell me about the first time you two met!”
“Well, I won a ticket to go see Type O Negative live in concert, and long story short, I suffered a really bad panic attack,” recounted the redhead, leaning into her soulmate’s chest. “I was honestly pretty terrified when I first met him, because he’s close to six foot eight inches- meanwhile, I’m pushing four foot ten inches, and I knew without a doubt that he could seriously hurt me if he wanted too, and I didn’t want to take that chance. Looking back now, I’m really happy that I didn’t run away after finding my soulmate.”
“Wow. My last question is for Peter- you recently signed up on Instagram and the first book of pictures that you posted were of your courthouse wedding to Mary Claire. Tell me a bit about that.”
“Well, my woman here is constantly showing me funny videos and stuff on Instagram and TikTok,” Peter answered after taking another quick sip of his wine. “And I decided to sign up for Instagram so that way I could show people my life behind the scenes of having such an amazing, smart, quirky, funny soulmate.”
“Before I wrap up, I have some screenshots of the photos from your Instagram, why don’t you two tell everyone what the story is behind these snapshots?”
“Oh, these are from our courthouse wedding,” Peter smiled. “My wife looked absolutely stunning that day, she wore her high school graduation dress and family heirloom wedding pearls that have been used for every wedding on her dad’s side for many generations.”
“I think this picture here was from my brothers helping move my stuff from the apartment that I shared with my little sisters to Peter’s house,” Mary Claire remembered. “Adam- he’s my oldest brother, he brought his twin daughters with him to give his wife a break with them. They loved sitting with their little hands pressed against me when I was pregnant with little girl.”
“Oh, I love this picture,” Peter smiled at the sweet picture. “Mary Claire had just gotten done with feeding little girl and had fallen asleep while still holding her. I quickly snapped this picture before I took her to her nursery to sleep in her crib.”
“I think this is the last photo,” Mary Claire announced. “I think Slitzy took this picture. Peter was onstage at the St. George Amphitheater in Maryland playing at a concert and he had invited me and little girl to accompany him. This picture was of him playing- I think Black No. 1? and I was standing in the wings where he could see me, as how the sight of me is more than enough to help my husband with his stage fright, and I’m holding little girl, and we’re just rocking out to the live music.”
“Well, there you have it people! Peter Steele and Mary Claire Ratajzck, the love story of the century! Catch Mary Claire’s latest book, The Princess of Sherwood Forest, out January 6th, and Peter Steele as Type O Negative gets ready to tour the country on their latest tour later this summer!”
~xoXox~
The second the door closed behind Mollie, Peter had flipped Mary Claire so that she was now on her back as Peter began wildly rutting into her, chasing his high that had been torturing him for the past hour or so.
“Oh, yes Peter!” gasped Mary Claire as she wrapped her legs around his waist and her arms around his shoulder. “Fuck, just like that, just like that!”
“You liked that, sweetheart?” Peter snarled as he stared at her in the face, his own hands carefully cupping the back of her head and neck, supporting her delicate body as he ravished her. “Did you enjoy cockwarming daddy during the interview?”
“Yes- oh yes I did, daddy!” Mary Claire’s eyes rolled into the back of her head as she orgasmed, her pink pussy milking Peter’s cock limp as he stilled himself, releasing his steam of jizz into her womanly womb.
“Daddy?” Mary Claire whimpered softly, curling her fingers into his dyed hair.
“Hmmm, sweetheart?” Peter cooed, gently tracing her pixie-like face with his nose. “Did you have fun?”
“Can we do that again?” she breathed out before blacking out limp in her husband’s arms.
Peter chuckled as he pressed kisses to her face, making a mental note in the back of his head to give her a morning after pill the moment they got back home. Even though he wanted kids of his own with his wife to be the one to carry them, he understood that she wanted to wait at least two years to give her body a chance to heal from carrying little girl.
But what both soulmates weren’t aware of was one of Peter’s sperm cells mating with one of Mary Claire’s eggs in a sacred kiss.
Dia dhuit, hello, Irish Gaelic
Adesso basta con te amore mio, that's enough out of you now my love, Italian
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PETER STEELE TAGLIST
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#Type O Negative#Heavy metal#Peter Steele#FanFiction#Soulmate AU#Tattooed Wings#Kinktober#31 day challenge
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the covid paradox
i’m not sure if this is exclusive to people with ocd, or even just people with anxiety, but this was my personal experience with the intersection of ocd and covid. (there might be a pun in there somewhere, but i’ll be damned if i can find it.)
in january, i got covid. a whole bunch of my coworkers tested positive on the same wednesday, some with symptoms and some without. once the first few had tested positive, another coworker and i went on an intrepid mission to purchase enough tests for everyone, convince the hy-vee employee why we should be allowed to purchase ten tests instead of the limit of four, and drove around our area delivering them to our coworkers’ various households. she and i took tests together in the car before taking off, and we both tested negative.
that negative test ended up meaning very little in the whirlpool of my anxiety. i wasn’t showing symptoms, but neither were a lot of my coworkers who were positive. i staggered my work hours to avoid contact with others, and eventually ended up taking home some tools and supplies so i could work from home. (admittedly i do not work in the ideal field to work from home, but by setting up a small bench in my closet, i was able to work on some clarinets in my apartment.) i cancelled my trip home for my dad’s birthday that weekend to avoid the risk. i did all the right things to avoid contact, to avoid spreading or catching the virus, and i knew that. but nothing could help me shake the fear, the anxiety, the conviction that Something Was Wrong.
each negative test just restarted the cycle of worrying, wondering if i really did have it and the test was wrong, or if i was too early in my infection to test positive. i was a wreck. i was barely able to stop myself from compulsively taking a test every day, and even then, part of me wanted to take them more frequently. (as a side note, that’s the “compulsive” in “obsessive compulsive disorder.” the obsession is “i have covid,” and the corresponding compulsion is “i need to take a test.”) this was before they sent out free tests to everyone, so all of this was on my own dime from the hy-vee across the street. every sniffle and cough got me nervous again, struggling not to reach for the next test. from wednesday to friday, i was a nervous wreck.
then on saturday, the strangest thing happened.
i woke up feeling like trash. my head was pounding, my nose was stuffy, my throat was sore, i was coughing. and i felt euphoric. vindicated. relieved.
i took my last test, and just like i’d expected, it came back with a big fat positive on it. and i was elated.
i shouldn’t have been. i should have been worried about the fact that i had the literal plague, but all i could think about was that the worry was finally over. i finally had my definitive answer. i could stop spending every waking moment worrying about whether or not i had it. i had closure.
of course, i’m aware that that is a pretty privileged place to be, because for so many people it has not been as simple as staying home for a week and then heading back to the office. i don’t mean to make light of that or suggest that covid isn’t something to be taken seriously. i just wanted to illustrate the kind of strange, counterintuitive thinking that anxiety and ocd can encourage.
this all happened months ago. why am i talking about it now? because i’m going though the same thing again. a couple of my friends got sick right after we had a party. then a few days later another friend tested positive. today, another friend (who wasn’t even at the party) tested positive as well. i tested negative a few minutes ago. and i’m back to being a wreck.
i find myself disappointed and concerned whenever a test comes back negative. i worry that i’m still too early on the process to test positive; after all, last time i was delayed a few days after everyone else before i ended up being positive. i’m aware that this is an absolutely absurd and frankly insane feeling to have; i shouldn’t be wishing that i have a deadly virus for the second time in just a few months. it’s fucked up to even think that, honestly. but it’s where my ocd has put me. every negative test starts the cycle anew, and only a positive test will truly put the worrying to rest.
i can repeat to myself as many times as i want that it’s allergy season, so of course i’m stuffy. that i don’t drink enough water, so of course my throat is sore. that i’m always tired, and i know what true sick fatigue feels like, and it isn’t this. i’ve been wearing my mask, keeping my distance, doing everything i’m supposed to do. but the cycle of compulsion continues ad nauseam.
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A WEEK OF SEM-BREAK AS A REGSAY
As a student that is dedicated to his studies also needs a break, especially after exams. According to the DepEd Order No 32 series of 2023, a mid-year beak for the current schoolyear 2023-2024 is scheduled on January 23-26 and on January 29-30. The given break was a blast, I got to do whatever I want like playing online games, gala with friends and spending a lot of time with my family. I also did some advanced reviews on the subjects and practiced on the recently concluded event namely “SCHOOL BASED PRESS CONFERENCE” where almost Regsay joined and competed, starting from Grade 7 to Grade 12 (the final year ate’s and kuya’s). By the way, I participated in column writing for the individual activity and collaborative desktop publishing for the group contest on the second day of the event which Saturday.
On the second day, I slept a lot (as in a lot) and I just played video games. But then something came in y mind (like what if’s) that if I want to improve my grades, my memorization skills, and especially improve my stock knowledge and also knowledge about the subjects especially the hard ones for me for the upcoming 3rd quarter, I need to study. So I kicked my butt of and started finding my sisters notes and Power Point then reviewed for hour, I also created some articles and searched lectures and the latest topics that the proctors might give us on the day of the contest that may help me enhance my Column Writing skills. I have found out that one of the latest topics that we might encounter are the presidential rivalry od president Marcos\Duterte and about the lotto schemes.
While I was reviewing, I realized that it was already Saturday, time is so fast right? So, I quickly prepared my things to bring on our boarding place which is near to our school.
On a special Sunday, my mom told us to get ready and called my family to go attend the mass at Saint Paul the Apostle Parish at 9:00 am near to Cabagan Square Park and then after the mass we headed to Xentro Mall, Cabagan for the advance celebration of my sister’s birthday which is de on Monday where we have classes. To be exact, her birthday really is on February 5 and adding to that it is her Chapter 15! We celebrated at Mang Inasal where we ate a lot the we also y some extra grocery for our boarding house and for our home too.
Then I came back to what I left which is practicing and reviewing like crazy. I slept over midnight because it is so near and I’m hoping that I’m one of the qualifiers.
On the last day of our Mid-Year Break I am very excited and nervous at the same time. I cannot wait to attend our School Based Press Conference. Also, my mom left first because they are also preparing for their class resumption and school-based press conference.
A week of Sem-Break is enough for me, because I’m a regsay who is an achiever and I am putting my studies first. I’m ready to sacrifice everything for the better future and for a high grade; and lastly, I always remember to value our future and remember that “Education is not a preaparation for life: education is life itself” by John Dewey. Also “the key to life is to develop internal moral, emotional G.P.S that can tell you which way to go” quoted by Oprah.
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I haven't been remembering my dreams lately, but I just woke up from one that I remember some details from.
I went to Dollar General with my mom and sister, and they got what they needed and left to sit in the car. For some strange dreamlike logic I decided to get a liter of milk. I only want the liter so I pour the milk out. Not like on the floor or anything. I don't know where. So I go and try to check out at a self check out station and the empty bottle won't ring up. I guess because the bottle being empty voids the barcodes ability to scan? Perhaps the futuristic dream self checkouts are so advanced they can see the bottle is empty. I bag the empty bottle and leave without paying for I have no way to pay.
Perplexed on the entire ride home, but find out a family friend is there to visit when we return. I rope him into bringing me back to dollar general to get the situation sorted and pay.
He ends up taking me to a different dollar store and it happens to be the grand opening. It's in a shopping mall, there's a couple other stores. At first I'm hesitant to enter the establishment cos I see signage for the Dollar General but no way to enter or find it??? I finally open this ornate door that looks more like a vintage castle door than the entrance to a shipping center.
I enter and theres lots of people there. A line of chairs up against the wall to my right, some windowed countered to my left, all labeled different things. I keep walking and sort of see what could be a dollar general and start browsing. Found some snacks (these to be specific)
I momentarily become distracted down the arts and craft aisle when I see some markers that look like a hybrid between copic and prismcolor markers. I briefly contemplate it spending 23 dollars on a set of markers from the dollar store is a good idea. I decide against it and suddenly remember why I was there in the first place!
Despite there being many aisle of dollar general like product, the further I walk through the store the more it shifts into something else entirely. At one point I am trying to find a checkout place, a cashier for I am ready to go, but nothing. I'm too nervous to ask around so I just keep aimlessly wandering. I'm opening doors and seeing people fancily dreessed and I close them quickly and quietly, not before awkwardly meeting some gazes.
I guess it was some sort of grand opening and also some areas of the mall are reserved for holding events?
I realize all at once that my ride has been waiting on me and I grow sick with fear of being left and forever stuck in this store with no way to check out, get out and go home. This is when I run into Abby. (I wrote about her briefly before but Abby was a really dear friend from HS that passed away due to tragic circumstances in January 2019) She touched my arm and asked me what was wrong and I told her the whole ordeal and she laughs and points me to where she believe the checkout point to be and an exit. I choose to take the exit thanking her as she bids me farewell and I walk away to put the snacks back in there place before finally winding my way out. I find my ride is indeed there but there are no other cars in the parking lot now. I make my way to the car, apologize and get it.
This is when I wake up teary eyed and stressed out of my mind 😭
#i dream of teddie#i like to think she knew i was having a stress dream and intervened#sorry if there are typos I literally just woke up okay good night goodbye
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General FAQ
These are various general questions about my stream! These will be updated or more q&a will be added in the future <3 (last edited January 2024)
Q: Why did you choose the name CypherGhost?
A: I chose Cypher because it is the name of some of my favourite song(s) by BTS’ rap line. I know that it means to put a message into secret writing or to encode it or it can also reference a gathering of beatboxers, rappers and/or breakers in a circle which then extemporaneously make music together but my main reason is for the BTS songs, especially Cypher pt4. As for ghosts, it's in reference to my nickname Kasper and the fact I like ghosts! I may not be a ghost vtuber but it just held a place in my heart which is why I kept it!
Q: What pronouns do you prefer?
A: I prefer he/him/his but I do not mind they/them/theirs, just no feminine pronouns please :)
Q: How does dyslexia affect you?
A: I have issues with spelling with no aid but I also have issues with pronouncing and reading some things too out loud. I always try to read all the dialogue and messages out loud for those who cannot watch or can't read well but sometimes I do mess up but I try my best 🙂 I may need to ask you guys to tell me how you pronounce your name or what name you prefer, but always correct me if I am wrong! I always want to make sure everyone feels welcomed <3
Q: Why did you start streaming?
A: At first it was a way to try to get better with my confidence while doing something I liked, which was art and games. I have really bad anxiety which means that every time I actually get nervous to press the go live button. But as time went on, I really enjoyed keeping good vibes, the amazing people who join my streams and wanting to make a safe space for people to vibe in and have a laugh no matter what <3
Q: Why did you choose to be a Vtuber over cam or no cam?
A: Looks are something I am not the best in the confidence area with, so I decided to not become a cam streamer. Although in the past and on rare occasions I do cosplay streams, cosplay isn’t me on my own. I also tried being a constant cosplay streamer and I burned out so fast!... I could have gone no cam, I used to do that before cosplay and had a small picture in the corner but it didn’t really work out. I wanted something to be interactive with my community visually so Vtuber was the way!
Q: Why do you not allow back-seating?
A: I find back-seating embarrassing to me, I feel like I am not playing the game right and start to feel self-conscious which brings my mood down a lot. If I do tell you to not tell me things about the game, I know you might be doing it out of a good heart but I will ask if I need help and it will be greatly appreciated!
Q: Do you make your emotes, panels & layouts? If so, what do you use?
A: Yes I make nearly everything myself! I draw all my emotes (unless credited otherwise such as the tail wag emote) and my PFP!
For emotes and art I use Clip Studio Paint which is the main software I use for drawing. I tend to draw traditionally first then draw them up digitally
My new overlays and backgrounds on stream are by creators on Etsy which I have fully credited in my Twitch bio!
Q: What software do you use to stream?
A: OBS! I have previously used twitch studios when I used to stream on my gaming laptop and also have used streamlabs obs but OBS has been the best so far!
Q: When is your stream anniversary?
A: September 7th but May 12th is my affiliate anniversary!
Q: What do you use to draw on art streams?
A: I use my Waccom One tablet with screen to draw with and clip studio paint to draw! If I am doing animation, it is with photoshop or toon boom harmony!
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Want to catch one of my streams? Here are the links to my twitch & other socials for updates on when I am live!
Twitch: CypherGhost_
Twitter: @ CypherGhost_
Instagram: @ cypherghost_
#streamer#small streamer#twitch#twitch streamer#twitch affiliate#FAQ#faq post#lgbtqplus#transgender#gay#vtuber#ask box open#safe space#dyslexia#social anxiety#mental health#art#emotes#artist
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CHAPTER ONE
It was drizzling outside. The rain coated the window pane in a lace like mist, blurring dew covered bushes from my sight. It was a particularly cold day considering it was spring. I spend my day in my old sweats and my mother's sweater curled up in a bundle of blankets on the couch gazing into the wild world outdoors. The window was the only thing between my imagination and the real world. A place where growing up ends and it comes time to face reality. "It's time to face reality".
That was two weeks ago. It was May 15, 2014, I've lost track of the days. It's been so long since the incident, it's starting to mess with my mind. Lately my mind has been wrapped up in a thick fog. The thing is, it won't go away no matter how hard I try to forgive and forget. January 12, 2013, that was the day my mother was murdered. Ever since I've been searching for the murderer but recently I am starting to realize the patterns. I'm so close. Just as long as he doesn't catch on, I will be safe. I just need to keep hiding out, he can't find me. There's no way unless...
Knock knock knock
Crap.
I scamper to the kitchen, keeping my eyes locked on the door. I quickly slide open the drawer and grab the biggest knife I lay my eyes on. My sweaty hands grip the knife's handle as a creep towards the door.
Knock knock knock ... knock knock knock
Chills spread down my spine. I slowly grip the doorknob, twist it to the right and the door creaks open. Standing there in front of me is a tall figure cloaked in darkness. He reaches his hand out, grabs my arm and yanks my hand from its place beside me. I yelp and try to jump back but his grip is strong. He pulls me forward and pry's open my hand. He places a small paper envelope in my hand and folds my fingers on top of it. He relieves his tight grip from my arm, turns around, and disappears behind the trees in my front yard. As he disappears, I stand there in shock with my mouth gaping open. I slowly grab a hold of the door knob and look around the yard as I pull the door closed with a small thud and lock the door. I stand there a moment and then slowly make my way into the kitchen. I toss the knife back into the drawer with a clatter and shut it with a swift shove. I walk to the fridge and stand mesmerized at my reflection in the stainless steel. I yank on the refrigerator door handle and the door pops open. I glanced at the scarce amount of food on the shelves. Shutting the door I make my way to the pantry... Nothing. I hop up onto the barstools and my eyes lay upon the envelope on the middle of the countertop.I slide my hand across the counter and reach for the envelope. It's cream colored and caked in what seems to be dirt. I slowly peel the corner of the envelope and rip open the letter, nervous to see what I might find inside. I tip the envelope and dump the contents onto the countertop. A small piece of white paper falls out along with a photograph. I adjust my eyes to the site in front of me and reach my hand out to pick up the folded piece of paper. I Slowly unfold the paper and see a letter written and messy handwriting. At the bottom is a small photo. The letter is signed by Caroline. My mind starts to process things as I read the letter. This is my mother's handwriting and her name. I shift my gaze to the photograph in the corner of the letter and peel the picture off the paper. I turn the picture over and on the back it reads Caroline Andrews 1963, that was my mother. I slowly turn my head to the slightly bigger photograph. There is something strange about this photo, 10 people are standing in a circle around a fire pit. I turn the photo over in my eyes filled with fear and my mouth falls open. 1980's Capron Falls, the Daisy Cult. My mother was in a cult.
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