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bisexualalienss · 2 years
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Michael Guerin Week 2022 | Day 3: Favorite Michael Dynamic
Cause every time you look at me, I'm 17 again. And I forget that the last ten years even happened. And then you look away, and I remember all over again. And it almost kills me every time. I never look away. Not really.
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wilmon · 2 years
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Michael Guerin Week 2022 Day 3: Favorite Michael Dynamic
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tennant-davids · 2 years
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MICHAEL GUERIN WEEK Day One: Pride
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youngsamberg · 2 years
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Michael Guerin Week 2022 Day 4: Favorite Michael Scene
We saved him. We're gonna keep him in the coma until he's strong enough to wake up. And he will wake up. Whatever happens next, we're gonna handle it. Max is alive, Michael. [2x05]
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arielana · 2 years
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Really, Michael?
A ficlet for Michael Guerin Week 2022, Day 1: “Is that how you wanted this to go?”
Very inspired by various “did you get probed”/“probe and tell” gifsets and the thought of Michael and Kyle as potential future brother-in-laws.
*
“Seriously Valenti, if I’d known the person you were making ’getting probed’ jokes about was my sister…” Michael takes a swig of his beer, very pleased with the scandalized tone he manages to pull off, and taking great joy in the way Kyle instantly turns beet red and starts to splutter, giving Michael a betrayed look. 
“What? That’s not what— I— I didn’t— You were the one who said—” His eyes flicker desperately between Michael and Isobel. “Is, I swear—”
It’s almost too easy. Valenti’s clearly let his guard down now that they’re practically brother-in-laws. This should teach him. Michael half turns towards the kitchen to hide a satisfied smirk as Kyle struggles to put a sentence together, but he’s of course immediately stopped in his tracks, deer in headlights-style, when he’s met by an unimpressed look from his husband, eyebrows arched, back from picking up the wine much quicker than Michael’s expected.
Damn.
Alex has certainly perfected his ’Really, Michael?’ expression, Michael notes, and he puts it to good use. If Michael thought he was well acquainted with the look before, it’s nothing compared to life as a married man. (Despite Michael generally being very well behaved, if he can say so himself.)
He tries to look innocent, shrugging lightly. What does Alex expect from him anyway?
He is being nice to Valenti. Like, whose idea was it to invite him and Isobel over tonight? It most definitely wasn’t Mr Alex ’Ugh, other people. Let’s just get takeout and watch a movie on our own’ Manes (Guerin he corrects himself, a pleased little shiver running through him. Each time.) 
Because really, Michael is making an effort—being a good brother, a good host—in fact, he’s making what he knows is one of Kyle’s favorite dishes tonight (and isn’t it crazy that he even knows that?) A little light teasing should definitely be allowed, just enough so that Kyle doesn’t get too comfortable. Michael’s had to listen to enough self-righteous lectures—ok, some pretty good advice as well, he has to admit—through the years. Michael should get to torment him just a little. It’s only fair.
Isobel huffs, and Michael turns back towards the living room.
“Oh sweetie,” she says airily, stroking Kyle’s arm, “don’t worry about him. You’re doing amazing.” She flicks her ponytail back, rolling her eyes. “He’s just sulking because he and Alex are a boring old married couple now. He wishes he could get a good probing.”
Michael hears Alex practically hiss behind him. 
Ignoring them, Isobel resolutely grabs Kyle's face with both hands and pulls him in for a kiss with way too much tongue for a dinner with family. Michael would never.
After a long minute, Isobel steps back with a pleased hum, lovingly patting Kyle on the cheek before releasing him. He takes a few wobbly steps backwards, clearing his throat and trying to regain his composure, while Isobel calmly smooths her hair back and checks her lipstick, after giving Michael a smug look.
Ok, well Michael should have seen that coming he guesses. Isobel refuses to be embarrassed by anything sex related. And he loves her for it.
“Is that how you wanted this to go?” Alex mutters grumpily as he comes to stand next to Michael. “We could have been cuddling on the sofa by now, instead we’re stuck watching your sister make out with Kyle, and being insulted in our own home. ’Boring’.” He spits out the word with as much disdain as possible. 
Michael just grins, not sorry in the slightest.  
First of all, he can’t think of anything better to do with the rest of his life than getting to be a boring old married couple with Alex. A dream come true, really.
And second, he knows exactly what happens when his husband’s competitive streak is activated, and there’s no way Alex will idly stand by and accept the implication that Kyle Valenti’s sex life is better than theirs.
Michael’s in for a wild night once the others have left, if he plays his cards right.
“It’s ok, honey.” He places a chaste kiss on Alex’s cheek, humming thoughtfully. “I guess it’s true what they say—the magic has to go eventually. Routine can be good too.”
The glint in Alex’s eyes tells him he knows exactly what Michael's up to, but also that it’s definitely working. Oh, it’s on.
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pastelwitchling · 2 years
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Michael Guerin Week Day 1
Michael was just about nearing the end of his rope. He’d been bent over an engine that he was sure he’d fixed just last week, but somehow, Mrs. Bayson kept managing to break it down. She was a lean woman who always dressed like she was going to a fancy dinner party, but she seemed to have no other plans than to spend the day watching Michael slave away over her car in the scorching heat.
Michael had just barely managed to keep his shirt on because of the eyes that he always felt raking his body, but it was so drenched in sweat now that he might as well have not been wearing a shirt at all.
“Do you need a drink, cowboy?” Mrs. Bayson crooned from where she sat in the shade of the trailer, long legs stretched out in front of her. She held up her icy drink. “You can have a sip of my lemonade.”
No, thanks, Michael almost said, his jaw clenched. I think I’d rather drink lava.
“I’m good,” was all he said, not bothering to turn around or face the woman who’d been openly ogling him for the past several hours. Or minutes. He never knew. With her, time seemed to stretch on forever.
Then he heard a car drive into the junkyard, and he shut his eyes, exasperated. Every so often, Mrs. Bayson would invite her friends over so that they could watch Michael together, and he’d hoped today would be an exception. He was already exhausted, sweating, and he’d woken up to his bed empty because his husband had already gone off for work before dawn. He was not in the mood for anyone else stripping him with their eyes.
He kept working, hoping that whoever it was would ignore him. Then Mrs. Bayson breathed, “Wow.”
Michael raised a brow and looked up, wondering what could give the rich housewife such a reaction. As soon as he saw who it was, he understood, and a smile came to his lips.
Alex glanced with a raised brow at Mrs. Bayson as he approached Michael, hands in his pockets. “What’s up?”
Michael felt like a window had opened to his chest and cool, fresh air blew in. The tension in his stomach loosened at once, and he felt like he could breathe.
“What’re you doing here?”
Alex shrugged. “I finished work early and I missed you.” He said it so casually that Michael had to stop and marvel at whether or not this truly was his life. He found he’d been doing that a lot since marrying Alex. He saw Alex cast another glance at Mrs. Bayson, who was openly ogling them both now like they were some kind of buffet, and he shook his head slightly as if to ask, How long’s she been here?
Michael told Alex everything, so it only stood to reason that he would see Mrs. Bayson and quickly put together who she was. He wanted to weep with relief. He didn’t care who else was there, so long as Alex stood close by to protect him.
“Stay with me, will ya?” he murmured, glancing darkly at the woman himself.
“I’m not going anywhere,” Alex said, though his eyes had turned to Mrs. Bayson, this time narrowed in thought. He was watching her like she was a particularly annoying recruit that he was trying to figure out how to teach who was boss.
Mrs. Bayson must’ve mistaken his look, however, for admiration because she lifted a shoulder, her sleeve slipping down, and held up her lemonade.
“My drink is open to either one of you boys,” she smiled.
Alex chuckled darkly, in a way that he did not often do and which had Michael both turned on and fearing for whoever was on the other side of it.
“I don’t think so,” he said quietly enough that only Michael could hear, and then he turned to Michael, pulled him in by his neck, and crashed their mouths together.
“Mmh!” Michael moaned, startled, but let the wrench drop from his hand as Alex wrapped an arm around his waist and slid his other up Michael’s shirt. Michael gasped, and Alex took the chance to push his tongue in, tasting Michael everywhere. He pushed him against the car, their hips grinding, and Michael groaned, all the tension he’d had throughout the day burning down to lust and want and need in his gut.
Alex didn’t seem to care he was covered in sweat, kissing him like he wanted to lick every inch of him clean. Michael wanted to let him, lie down here and spread his legs and let Alex do whatever he wanted to him.
But Alex was already pulling away too soon, a line of spit connecting their mouths, and he looked over his shoulder.
Mrs. Bayson was no longer smiling, her scowl stretching wide and Michael could’ve sworn he saw her say, What a waste.
Alex stepped back casually, but not too far away, returning his hands to his pockets. Mrs. Bayson no longer seemed in the mood to watch her car get fixed, and she had someone pick her up with a demand that the engine be ready by tomorrow.
Michael turned to Alex, grinning, and Alex gave him a wink. “All that to save me?”
“That,” Alex shrugged, and stepped closer, running his finger over Michael’s lips, “and I don’t like anyone else staring at my husband’s ass.”
Michael bit his lower lip, eager. “You jealous, baby?”
“Jealous of what?” Alex scoffed, pulling Michael in again and dragging a hand up his shirt, bunching it up to his chest. “Nobody else gets you but me.”
Michael nodded, hazed and in love. “Nobody else,” he repeated almost dreamily.
Alex grinned. “Good boy.”
***
I forgot about this, so I will be attempting to post three fics today to catch up.
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dr-lizortecho · 2 years
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haloud · 2 years
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@michaelguerinweek Day 3 - “I’ve never been better”
[An excerpt from the hockey au I will write one day. Context: Alex and Michael played together in juniors but were separated when Jesse discovered them and broke Michael’s hand. Michael was able to play again after re-learning how to grip a stick, but Alex’s career ended in tragedy just before the draft when an injury led to the loss of his leg. Michael goes to the NCAA while Alex begins coaching, and they reunite six years after their separation when Michael gets a tryout from the AHL team Alex is an assistant coach for.]
---
“When I saw you play again, watching game tape from Nebraska,” Alex said so softly Michael leaned closer to listen, “I really almost couldn’t believe it. How good your shot is, after everything. I really thought…”
“Yeah,” Michael replied hoarsely, licking his lips, chapped by the dry, cold rink air and the wind whipping past his face. “When I got out of the hospital, I thought about it morning, noon, and night. Getting back out there and working on it. And when the cast came off, I drilled it…almost had to get another surgery, actually, ‘cause I couldn’t stop. It was all that kept my mind off the other thing, the only thing I thought about more than surviving in hockey and not letting that bastard beat me.”
“What was that?”
“You.”
And Alex played hockey, too. A body never really forgets the sensation of the air being driven out of your body by a check into the boards, and Alex sat there for a second wheezing through that one little word, like a padded shoulder to the solar plexus, ears ringing like he’d had his bell rung. Out of the corner of his eye, Michael watched him, studied him, face set, eyes intense.
“You can’t just say shit like that,” Alex said weakly, rubbing his chest.
“Sorry, man,” Michael replied, not sounding sorry at all. “But it’s true. I thought about you all the time, if you were okay, what you were doing, if you were thinking of me…I would go online and look up your games. I dunno, man, I was a kid. I wrote you all these letters that I never sent.” He laughed softly.
Alex still couldn’t breathe, his throat so tight and painful. His mouth worked, trying to force out some words, knowing some kind of reply was expected, but what was there to say? Nostalgia wasn’t supposed to hurt like this, he was pretty sure.  
Michael continued, eyes downcast, staring at both their knees, “When you were in the hospital, after your leg, I tried to call. But your brother picked up and said you didn’t want to talk to me. I knew it was probably a lie, but…I don’t know. If your brother was there, your dad might be too, and the last thing I wanted was to get you in trouble. Again. So…”
How did they get here? How were they talking about this, here, now? Alex’s knee throbbed in time with the memory—laying in that hospital bed, so sure his life was over, he would have done anything to have Michael there with him, even just to hear his voice. This conversation was coming the second Alex saw Michael’s name on the training camp roster, but now that it was happening it all felt beyond surreal.
Michael seemed to pick up on the fact that Alex’s brain was nothing but white noise and take it in stride. He reached out and squeezed Alex’s left knee gently, then stood, stretched, and shouldered his bag.
“I won’t keep you any longer. Just know,” Michael said, and something in his voice forced Alex to sit up straighter, to meet Michael’s eyes head-on. “Just know I never stopped then, and I’m not stopping now. I’ve made it this far, and I’ve never been better. I’m not going anywhere. Just…know that.”
And with a firm nod, he turned and clattered down the bleachers to the door, leaving Alex sitting alone in the rink, his heart pounding against his ribs like it was trying to escape.
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dr-lemurr · 2 years
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Wild Wild West Guerin
Rushing to get this finished enough to post while it’s still @michaelguerinweek. Michael is not an easy man to paint.
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Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019) Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Michael Guerin/Alex Manes Characters: Michael Guerin, Alex Manes Additional Tags: Music Series: Part 5 of Michael Guerin Week 2022 Summary:
Now the house is filled with music. It streams through the speakers, or Alex sings to himself as he loads the washing machine. Or, Michael's favorite, Alex sits on the couch or the piano bench and picks his way through a song they both know.
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michaelguerinweek · 2 years
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Michael Guerin Week: October 11-15, 2022
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Welcome to Michael Guerin Week 2022! Each day will include a fic prompt (length is entirely up to you) and a gifset/edit/art/video prompt.  Feel free to do with the prompts what you will!
Day 1: October 11, 2022 (National Coming Out Day)
Fic prompt: "Is that how you wanted this to go?”
Edit/art/video prompt: Pride/Found Family
Day 2: October 12, 2022
Fic prompt: “You found me.”
Edit/art/video prompt: Distance/Separation/Future
Day 3: October 13, 2022
Fic prompt:”I’ve never been better.”
Edit/art/video prompt: Favorite Michael Dynamic
Day 4: October 14, 2022
Fic prompt: “Anyway...happy anniversary!”
Edit/art/video prompt: Favorite Michael Scene
Day 5: October 15, 2022
Fic prompt: “I am not singing that.”
Edit/art/video prompt:  Michael + Music
Reminder to please tag each post with “mgweek22″ AND “guerinweek22″ within the first FIVE tags so we are able to find your work and reblog. Feel free to send an ask or message if you do not see your work being reblogged. Due to the nature to the fickle nature of Tumblr tags, things get missed! Also we will keep checking the tags through October 16th so if you post a little late thats totally fine.
Sorry about the change of dates -- life happens but thank you in advance for participating.
Asks are always open if you have any questions.
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bisexualalienss · 2 years
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Michael Guerin Week 2022 | Day 4: Favorite Michael Scene
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wilmon · 2 years
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Michael Guerin Week 2022 Day 1: Found Family Alex, Dallas, Isobel, Sanders and Max
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tennant-davids · 2 years
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MICHAEL GUERIN WEEK Day Two: Distance/Separation
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youngsamberg · 2 years
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Michael Guerin Week 2022 Day 5: Michael + Music
It's the only thing that makes me feel quiet. Playing music. I have all this chaos going on inside me all the time, and... all I want to do is get away from myself. But then I play, and my entropy changes. Everything goes quiet. [1x06]
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pastelwitchling · 2 years
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Michael Guerin Week Day 5
Michael had always loved music. Until Alex had come along, he’d never even considered having a favorite kind. And then Alex sang for him, and nothing else compared. The only problem was that Alex knew Michael loved music just as much, and so he insisted every chance he got that Michael sing for him.
And yet, much like Neil Patrick Harris never got caught in a bad picture in How I Met Your Mother, Alex had never been able to get Michael to sing a single note.
“My voice sucks,” he’d said blatantly. “I just got you. I’m not risking a divorce now.”
To which Alex would scrunch his nose, probably in an attempt to seem annoyed, but he’d end up looking so cute that Michael would grab his face and smother him with kisses instead.
Sometimes Alex would settle for Michael’s kisses, sometimes it took a more handsy approach, and sometimes, he stayed true to his military resilience and remained relentless in his pleas.
“Just one song!”
“No.”
“One line!”
“No.”
“Hum for me then!”
“Not gonna.”
Such was the case one particular night as their conversation during dinner led, once again, to how Michael never sang, and Alex begged until they were on the couch, the TV on and playing some rerun of Indiana Jones.
Alex slumped on the couch, facing Michael. “You played for me at our wedding!” he complained.
“Exactly,” Michael shrugged a shoulder. “And you didn’t need to hear me sing then either, did you?”
Alex worked his jaw, glaring at Michael. “Don’t make me say it.”
“Say what?”
“Something ugly.”
“Like what?” Michael demanded, smirking as he faced Alex. “What could you possibly say to get me to sing?”
Alex’s gaze was intent. Any other time and Michael might’ve noticed the intensity there. “You won’t like it.”
“Won’t like what?”
Alex swallowed, as if bracing himself. “This is your last chance. Sing one song for me, or . . . I say it.”
“Say what?”
Alex huffed, and his glare faded to something truer, sadder. “That after your hand first healed, I wasn’t the one you played in front of.”
Michael faltered, all trace of humor gone.
Alex looked down, cheeks red, ashamed. He tugged on Michael’s sleeve. “Y-You owe me this one thing.”
Michael’s shoulders fell. He probably should’ve been angry or annoyed or hurt, but all he could feel was warmth and love. All he could hear was Alex’s sorrow and pain. “Baby . . . is that what this is about?”
Alex settled into the couch with a sigh, hanging his head back and staring at the ceiling. “Maria got to hear you first . . . Bonnie was the first person you ever taught a song to. . . . I hate that there’s so much of you I didn’t get first. I hate that I’m . . .” he scoffed, all the self-loathing and embarrassment Michael knew he felt in that one sound. “Not special.”
“Not special?” Now it was Michael who turned to face him. “Are you kidding me? Alex, you know why music means so much to me? Because it’s our first good memory together. Music’s how we met.”
Alex looked to him, his eyes glassy. “Really?”
His voice cracked, and it echoed in Michael’s heart. He knew how much he hated any reminders of what Alex and Forrest had done together, how Forrest had helped Alex in a way Michael never could just by being a little more patient for him. He hated that feeling, he hated the insecurity that threatened to overwhelm him sometimes, and he hated more than anything that Alex felt an inkling of that.
He took Alex’s hands in his. “At first, music was just a way to quiet the noise. Then it became a part of me because it reminded me of you. When you were all I wanted and I couldn’t have you, or I thought I couldn’t, I turned to music. I didn’t play for the first time to Maria, and I didn’t teach Bonnie a song. I just wanted to play music because it was the closest thing I had to you. You think I knew or cared who else was around?”
Alex huffed a wet chuckle, wiping his eyes with his forearm. “You must think I’m pathetic.”
“Not even close.” Michael leaned in and kissed his cheek. “I think you’re cute.”
Alex smiled, and rested his head on Michael’s shoulder, hugging his arm. “And if you ever do feel like singing?”
“You would be the only one I’d ever sing to, Private,” Michael promised quietly. “No one will ever get all of me like you do.”
***
To my favorite cowboy, now and forever, always ❤
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