#Alex pov fic

[hogans-heroes]

can i ask about the learning curve wip? maybe get a snippet? 😊

Of course! My most beloved wip rn, my chaptered Alex pov. I made a descriptive post about it here and posted a snippet here! (with mini visuals). But I'll give you another longer snippit because I love you and your writing! (Also, as much as I love this fic I've been getting stuck with it lately so am writing other stuff atm. Will get back to it very soon).

Alex’s dad was a psychologist, and boy would he have a field day at Stalag Luft III.

He could practically hear his father’s voice in his head as he watched the guys mill around the camp compound, narrating their actions and picking them apart to gently expose what was inside, for their own good, to study them like wild creatures who in extreme circumstances often reverted back to cavemen, to more raw forms of behavior.

He can’t use his words, his dad would say. Because at some point he tried and tried and tried, and they never worked. “To hell with this,” the brain says, “we’re gonna go back to the basics,” and that’s usually physical expression.

There’s really only two core emotions at the heart of a human. If you keep peeling at the bottom of every action and reaction, every visible emotion, you’ll find either love, or fear. And they’re usually connected. That’s all humans are really made of.

So his dad might have gotten a little philosophical too. At least it gave Alex more thoughts to keep himself busy and not go crazy locked up. It was fun in a way, collecting bits of information and arranging them like a child would blocks. That Bachelor of Science degree in Chemistry and Biology he had earned before the war wouldn’t do him much good if it didn’t at least help keep him alive for the duration. The camp was only a new study he could apply the scientific method to.

So far it had been going well, and every piece fit together in its place. The one thing Alex could not grasp however, that was driving him crazy, was the two majors from the 100th.

Egan and Cleven? Buck and Bucky? John and Gale? Alex wasn't sure what combination of names he should be using or even who was who most of the time, but the names always went together. Not a single person Alex had encountered had ever used the names separately. The way prisoners talked about them, anyone would have thought they were some dual-soul deity the stalag had built a religion around, yet since Alex had been assigned to their barrack room all his careful study of them had only resulted with a handful of pieces that didn’t fit together. Major Gale Cleven “Call me Buck,” with eyes that could pierce your soul like an x-ray and “just” John Egan. Buck, whose impossible gentleness was at odds with his rock-wall presence at the front of his men, and Egan, who treated Alex like a disease though it didn’t seem to be for the usual reasons, he treated everyone that way, walked around with volcanic ash trailing from cracks that Alex wondered if only he could see. What pieces Alex had gathered of the two of them wasn’t the same as what he was hearing from the 100th. The supposed yin-and-yang duo vacillated like a metronome between hostile and devoted and it drove Alex insane.

Pain shot up his leg and he caught himself on Daniels’ outstretched arm, jerking him back to his body moving one foot in front of the other and two comrades beside him, having lost count how many times they had circumnavigated the camp. They were passing their own hut again and this time Buck was sitting on the steps with his nose in a book, his messy hair fallen over his forehead and long fingers clenching the worn cover with more force necessary for a book on native plants of Ireland (Alex had read it the week before). He remained laser focused on the page with a furrow in his brow, scars on his cheeks contrasting sharply with the soft angles of his face, and Alex jumped when Macon knocked him on the arm. 

“Pay attention man,” Macon quipped. “We’re still on for our escape, the last thing we need is for you to adopt some sad-eyed White boy.”

Alex wasn’t sure if he should be insulted, but frowned anyway. “Buck’s my friend,” he retorted. 

“Oh it’s Buck now? That’s a fuckin’ major, man. A squadron commander with more flight hours than actual goddamn birds and you’re calling that Buck?”

“Just don't get too attached,” Daniels interjected. “The less people we trust here the better.”

The image of Buck sitting in the library with his chin on his knees, gentle blue eyes giving undivided attention as Alex explained some fighter plane or science subject made his stomach twist at the suggestion of not trusting him, or even worse, leaving him behind. Alex had spent most of his life being teased for being too soft, too kind, too trusting. He’d gotten himself in a bad spot several times because of that too, so he probably should be more careful, but sue him, he was tired and aching inside and Buck had actually listened. 

[lagerloutfic]

hot rookie slagsss rides again! 'tis the season to have normal thots about your co-workers. thank you to @ctimenefic and @latecomersprivilege for making this one billion times better.

read part one - alex albon and his foot thing

Lando has no idea where he is. Couldn’t tell you the time for a million quid. He might be in a completely different country. There’s been a bottle in his hand since he stepped onto the podium. Champagne, beer, shots. 

A bottle of water was thrust at him at some point but Party in the USA blasted over the speakers so he poured it over Andrea making him squeal. 

He’s drunk. He’ll admit it. Probably passed drunk a few miles back. Totally hammered, as promised. He’s not the only one.

Everyone around him is grinning like mad. Hands clap him on the back so often he’s sure he’ll be bruised between his shoulder blades come morning. He doesn’t know who half the people are but it doesn’t matter. It’s all love tonight, everyone high as kites from topping the Constructors and whatever else is getting passed around.

It’s a good feeling. One of the best he’s ever had. It makes him really – 

Horny.

Like, disturbingly so. 

Disturbing because when he spots Oscar in the corner – looming over Lily with her back to the wall, one hand braced beside her head as she pulls him in by the collar to snog the pants off him – everything else shuts down apart from the klaxon in his brain screaming: I want, I want I want. 

It’s confusing. It doesn’t make sense. 

It’s – really hot how Lily doesn’t stop snogging Oscar as she turns his cap around, hand on the back of his neck pulling him closer. Really gives it to him with both barrels. Oscar’s hand creeps around to her waist, holding her close. Lando is glad the music is so loud so no one can hear him moan. 

Lando pulls out his phone. The background is super blurry, battery on a precarious 3%. He has to squint one eye as he peers down, tongue between his teeth as he opens Hot Rookie Slagsss. 

Lando: how do u ask some1 4 a 3some

George: Oh good, you’re alive

George: Don’t bother replying to any of the other fifty messages

Alex: who are you asking

Lando: no one

George: just a hypothetical question at 4 in the morning

Lando: dont use big words

Alex: imagine you’re asking us

Lando: u and russell?

George: Surely Alex means us and our girlfriends

Alex: surely

Lando thinks about asking the boys and their fit girlfriends for a threesome and, yeah. Obviously that’s a nice thought. There are so many nice thoughts flooding Lando’s brain right now he feels a little sick.

Lando: alex do u & lily wanna have 3some

George: Oh, of course you ask Alex and not me. Typical. 

Alex: now, now Georgie, don’t be jealous

George: Unbelievable. 

Alex: Lily says you’re too short

Lando: im a NORMAL HEIGHT

George: Whatever Frodo

Lando: ever think u 2 r freakishly tall

Alex: no

Lando is distracted from the bickering in his phone by the way Lily’s hands are moving down the back of Oscar’s ugly too-long shorts to cup his arse. Lando wants to be in the middle of it, to feel their hands roam over him, to let himself float in space as two sets of lips press against his neck. 

Oscar’s being so sloppy, licking along Lily’s jaw, sharp teeth biting down before thrusting his tongue back in her mouth. Jesus Christ. 

Lando: guys im dying here

George: in my experience, one simply waits to be asked

Lando: thats not gonna happen

George: Maybe for you…

Lando: wait

Lando: who did u have a 3some with

Lando: WHO

Lando: alex who was it

George: Alexander don’t you dare

Lando: WHOWHOWHOWHO

Alex: as discussed, Lily likes tall men

Lando: omgggggg

George: You’d best count your days Albon because you are so fucking dead

Alex: Lily wants to know what hotel you’re at

George: can we please take this to the other chat

Lando: WHAT other chat

Alex: secret threesome chat

George: I could do a murder and no one would blame me

Lando watches the three dots showing Alex typing and then his screen goes blank. He presses the power button furiously, willing the phone to light up but it’s dead. 

Lando considers flinging it across the room. Would be happy to never hear from his so-called friends again. The nerve, having secret threesomes willy-nilly behind his back. Absolute fuckers, the lot of them. 

There are cheers across the room. One of the mechanics has unearthed another magnum of champagne (where on earth do they keep finding these things) and is uncorking it, urging Oscar to tip his head back. 

It takes two of the mechanics to hoist it into the air. Oscar has to crouch, practically on his knees, mouth open wide as the fizz sloshes over his cheeks, foaming down his neck, soaking his shirt. Lando grips the sticky table in front of him, crotch pressed to the corner, his entire body throbbing in time to the music. 

Lily stands to the side, hand over her mouth, hair all mussed up from where Oscar’s been clutching it. She catches Lando’s eye and gestures at Oscar, silently asking him to get a load of this guy. 

Lando’s got a load of it alright. A big one. 

Lando doesn’t know how it happens but one second he’s humping the table and the next he’s on his knees next to Oscar, lukewarm champagne stinging his eyes for the hundredth time that day. 

It splashes all over Lily’s shoes and Lando follows the long line of her legs, her hips, tilting his head back to look at her face. She’s beaming down at him, totally unbothered by the sloshing between her toes. 

Everything is so wet.

“How do you feel about short blokes?” Lando slurs and she bends down, one hand on his shoulder.

“How short are we talking about?” 

Lando looks over helplessly at Oscar, two arms wrapped around some of the front office guys, wet t-shirt clinging to his chest. From this angle he can see the sharp grooves of Oscar’s abs, can count every single muscle straining as he laughs. 

Not that anyone cares, but him and Lando are literally the same height. 

Lily shrugs. “Reckon that’s ideal.”

George’s stupid fucking voice rings in Lando’s ears: One simply waits to be asked. 

He’s going to rub this in their handsome faces.

[secret-spirit]

Clyde watched from above a tree as the human walked down the streets late at night, it's lurking eyes locked on the human as they enter their home.

It watched from afar how this human was put on constant watch by the people that call themselves the Lankmann foundation, the fools that aim to hunt it down and stop it's rampaging around Eastridge. Their attempts were foolish, hilarious even, thinking back at what happened to that one officer.

Clyde doesn't blame how the human keeps a paranoid eye around their surroundings with it's association with the Foundation.

It slithered through the corners of the house, seeing which windows lead to which room, before settling on a window leading to a living room. Clyde could make out the humans movements in another room, possibly a kitchen.

Might as well have fun.

Clyde began knocking on the window lightly, barely making noise to reach the human. Then it made it's knocking louder against the glass, splitting an amused grin as the human flinched. Clyde hid from the window as the human began to turn around.

It began to head to another window, before looking back and seeing a faint silhouette of the human on the window before they closed the curtains.

Clyde went to another window, this time one leading directly towards the kitchen. It clawed at the window's hinges before it managed to unlock it, pushing it up and crawling inside the house.

It picked up on footsteps drawing closer and closer, Clyde looked at the doorway as the human entered. They noticed it before gaining a frightened look, it smiled in malice.

"You"

It pounced, jumping over the dinner table directly towards the human. However the human moved quicker and dodged it and went towards the right.

The table was spared but the wall wasn't, Clyde making a dent in it as it crashed into the wall.

Quickly recovering Clyde stood up on two feet, feeling the room look smaller compared to when it was on all fours. It looked at the human in the corner, who was holding something in their hand.

As it grew closer to the frozen human, it's attention shifted towards the thing in their hand, a sandwich, looking through the memories of the human kids. It should be focused on eating the human's mind to gain the information it wants but their curiosity took hold.

The human seemed to notice it's focus on the sandwich and offered it towards it.

"P-peace offering?" They said stuttering.

Clyde reached down and grabbed the sandwich from the human, briefly missing contact with their skin. It examined the human delicacy, searching through the memories it conducted that it was a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, or pb&j for short with it's sticky texture in-between the two slices of bread.

It took a bite, it's the first time it's ever eaten something that isn't a humans mind, the texture of the sandwich was soft and the chewy feeling was addicting, despite the lack of taste it enjoyed the feeling of eating.

It backed up from the human and went to a sitting position, feeling the room getting claustrophobic with it's height. It ate quietly, munching on the feeling of the bread and the sticky substance that is the butter and jelly. It's eyes flickered to the human as they didn't make a move to run but instead watch silently at the demon.

Before Clyde realized it already finished the sandwich. Looking at the human who now cowered in the corner.

It would've just eaten the humans mind and gain the information it seeked out, but instead it stood up and looked down at the human.

"I'll spare you for now"

Clyde then went to the window and exited the house, leaving a flabbergasted human behind.

[inbucksbusiness]

History, Huh? (Bet We Could Teach Some) by Henrybaby

Teen & Up | Chaptered | Complete | Ao3 | 35k

They’re both teachers. They’re both stupid. They both fall in love over lectures, grading, and early morning coffee (with a little help from some meddling teenagers). Or; Alex & Henry teach at Austin Preparatory Academy and are asked to teach a joint History/English course. They’re the only ones in the classroom who don’t realize their heated arguments over historians aren’t really about what’s in the textbooks.

Competence Kink, Hot History Teacher Alex, Lacrosse Coach Alex, English Teacher Henry, Dual POV, Forced Proximity, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Alternate Universe - Teachers, Miscommunication, Slow Burn, Non-Royal Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor, Happy Ending

[strwbrryagcd]

for the sake of the wedding

chapter three: wine and dine

M | 3/8 | 5.1k (t: 18.2k)

tags: wedding planner alex, best man henry strangers to lovers, mutual pining, fluff, idiots to lovers, dual pov

summary:

In which Philip is getting married and asks Henry to be his best man. Henry very reluctantly agrees, but what he absolutely does not agree to is being the one stuck dealing with all of the tasks that Philip “simply does not have time for.”

The one thing that his brother did manage to do was hire a wedding planner, Alex, who's not only extremely charming and, well…much too handsome than what should be considered humanly possible but who, for some reason, seems to be doing everything in his power to make the situation more bearable for Henry. What starts out as a bond over their mutual annoyance with Philip and his outrageous requests turns into something completely unexpected and much deeper, and for once, Henry might just have to indulge himself.

or: henry and alex plan a wedding together and just might find love of their own along the way ♥️💍

chapter three of my weddingplanner!alex & bestman!henry for @aroyallybigbangrwrb is OUT!!

read it here

[wordsofhoneydew]

happy hump day!!

hello all<3 today i finally mustered up the motivation to write after over a month of debilitating ass writers block 😭 but i persevered!! and hopefully ill be able to go back to posting regularly

thank you for tag @theprinceandagcd !!<3

here’s a little snip of chapter 2 of ‘i became your device to name and soothe’

+

This is what Nora loves most about living with June: the routine of it all. June comes home in her perfectly tailored work suit, and Nora watches her dress down into something more comfortable before finally taking a seat next to her on the couch, sometimes falling into a perfectly comfortable silence and other times with flirtatious banter that bounces off their tongues like an Olympic tennis match.

“You look pretty.” Nora says almost absentmindedly, completely mesmerized by the way June’s hair flows in effortless curls over her shoulders when she lets it down from its bun. Nora is staring. Shamelessly.

June blushes, crossing her arms over her chest. Nora failingly ignores the way the action squeezes her breasts together, on full display by the undone buttons of her dress shirt. She’s so distracted that she nearly misses the glint of gold hoop earrings that hang from June’s ears.

“Are those my earrings?”

June’s smile morphs into a wicked grin. “Maybe. What’re you gonna do about it, huh?” She teases, hooking her fingers behind her ears and clipping the earrings off with such ease.

“Is that a challenge, Catalina?” Nora places her laptop on the coffee table as June begins to inch away from her on the couch.

“Come n’find out.” June winks and then she’s bolting over the arm of the couch.

+

tags are always open!!

@anchoredarchangel @anincompletelist @nocoastposts @saturntheday @blueeyedgrlwrites @violetbaudelaire-quagmire @bigassbowlingballhead @firenati0n @alasse9 @sparklepocalypse @getmehighonmagic @heysweetheart-writes @softboynick @happiness-of-the-pursuit @captainjunglegym @eusuntgratie @itsmaybitheway @ninzied @cha-melodius @suseagull04 @littlemisskittentoes @bitbybitwrites @cricketnationrise @priincebutt @rockyroadkylers @porcelainmortal @ad-astra13 @read-and-write- @starrypiscesao3 @thedramasummer @hgejfmw-hgejhsf @thinkof-england

[thedeafprophet]

Jamie's relationship to alcohol/drug is a complicated magter, even before...direct influence comes into play. So many factors come into play, many outside their own influence.

The social attitude at the time very much allowed them to be brought into contact with things at a younger age than they perhaps would have otherwise, not to mention how common it was in the social areas and artsy scenes they frequent, back on the surface and on the neath. It was and is practically expected of them.

We've all seen the texts about the bohemian faction after all.

This mixes rather poorly with Jamie's individual circumstances. Trauma and mental illness can make one vulnerable to these things. Combined with the unknown issue of highly impacting ADHD, Jamie leans often into fully unaware self medicating to help themself function in the day to day. A few times becomes habit, a process becomes routine, and they don't even realize what is ongoing until things are far, far too late.

And there's something to be said, for how those who are vulnerable and struggle with mental illness, can often be targeted by those who are predatory.

[cheesecurdsgravyandfries]

a very David Christmas

Three short vignettes.

A little gift to the fandom, wrapped especially in a bow for @inexplicablymine, who is just a gem of a human, if you didn't already know.

Rated General, because I oscillate wildly between explicit sexual content and wholesomeness, with no real in between.

Read here.

Happy holidays, everyone!

[squarebracketsmileyface]

Hello everyone

i am writing the incredibly angsty chapter five of If It Ain't Broken, you know, the chapter that marks the true start of the end of Jaylex's fwb relationship.

these are Alex's thought's near the end of that Chapter, by the way

[justlightlysedated]

So update, I have NOT finished the fic BUT since I did say maybe today, I decided to post an update! Here is the last 1/3 of Part Two, which is also known as "The Divorce Era" it is also WIP WEDNESDAY! So yay for me 😊

December 2019

Isobel is just walking through the front entrance of the hospital when her phone blares, sudden and loud. She tugs it out of her pocket and to her ear.

"What?"

"When you get here don't do any Jedi mind tricks," Kyle says without a hello. "I have to talk to you before anything else. Where are you?"

"In the front entrance," she responds and hangs up.

She has to stop herself from stomping forward and demanding to be told what is happening with Michael Guerin. But she trusts Kyle enough to wait.

She still doesn't understand how this happened.

They had been practicing with their powers more than usual, but it didn't make any sense for Michael to drop out of nowhere, publicly enough that the emergency services were called before anyone could do anything about it.

Kyle had recognized his description from the EMTs and had immediately called Isobel, telling her he'd do what he could to avoid exposure.

She spots Kyle coming out of the elevator and heading her way, walking fast. He grabs on to her elbow and begins tugging her forward. Isobel lets this go on until they're in the elevator and then she pushes him away.

"Can you please tell me what the hell is going on?" she demands. "And where is Michael?"

Kyle reaches forward and presses the button to stop the elevator before turning to face her.

"Has Michael ever told you anything about being married?"

Isobel snorts, wanting to laugh, but settling for shaking her head. "He's made comments about a husband before, but it's impossible that he actually got married without Max and I there."

Kyle exhales roughly, "Well either he was telling the truth or it's too late to do anything to keep Michael off the government radar."

Isobel clenches her hands together, resisting the urge to tear into Kyle's brain and find out the information that he has faster. The elevator creaks alarmingly.

"Okay," Kyle says, holding his hands out in front of him like he's trying to placate her. "I'm just the messenger here, okay?"

"Kyle," Isobel snaps. "I need a full and concise explanation in the next thirty seconds or else-"

"I can't access any of his records," Kyle says, cutting her off. "Everything from the stats taken at the scene to the oxygen mask put on his face have been put under lock and classified key. The chief of staff says that there was a military code on his file that puts all of his information on a highly classified need to know basis."

Isobel thinks that over quickly, "So what you're saying is that either they already know and there is nothing that we can do or Michael is married to someone high up in the military."

As soon as the words are out of her mouth, Isobel wants to smack herself on the forehead.

"I stand corrected," she says before Kyle can confirm or deny her previous statement. "There is someone that he could be married to without telling either of us."

Kyle gives her a look, and she raises an eyebrow back at him thinking, Alex Manes really loudly, and somehow it seems to work.

Kyle's eyes flash from realization to surprise to surprisingly, guilt.

Isobel would ask, but she pulls her phone out again instead. 

To Alex's credit he answers the phone almost immediately, "This is not a good time."

"Okay, when would be a better time for you to tell me that you're married to my brother?" Isobel asks as sickeningly sweet as she can manage.

Alex just sighs, "Good. You're here. I need to leave in ten minutes if I want to make it to my meeting in time."

Which meant that Alex was here in the hospital, when he was supposed to be halfway across the country chasing down Project Shepherd leads. Interesting.

"I'm signing all the paperwork, and once Michael wakes up they'll discharge him immediately, no tests or anything," Alex had continued speaking while Isobel wasn't paying attention.

"Alex," Isobel almost shouts, interrupting his flow. "You're married. To Michael."

"Yes," Alex says, sounding annoyed, like he doesn't understand why this needs to be a conversation that they need to have. "Technically separated. Fortunately he didn't actually file for divorce earlier this year so all of the precautions I took are still legible."

"Technically separated," Isobel repeats in a mocking tone.

She can feel the eye roll through the phone.

"Just get out of the elevator, and come over here," he says. "We're in room C118."

He hangs up before Isobel can say anything else.

She scoffs and pulls up Michael's information, but then decides she can berate him better in person.

"He said they're in room C118."

Kyle nods his head once, and presses two buttons, one to start the elevator again, and the other to get to the correct floor.

"So they really are married then?" He asks, sounding both like he wants to know the answer, but also like he doesn't.

"Apparently it's so obvious that Mr. Manes gets annoyed if you ask too many questions," she pauses for a second thinking it over. "Or is it Mr. Guerin as well?"

Kyle just groans and leans back against the wall.

"What's wrong with you?" Isobel asks.

Kyle is saved by answering when the doors open, but Isoebl stops him as they get out, pushing him into a secluded corner. 

"Are you secretly in love with Alex as well or what?"

Kyle splutters, shaking his head, "No. I mean, not that Alex isn't a great guy, and anyone would be lucky to be secretly in love with him-"

"Thanks for saying that Kyle," Alex's highly amused voice comes from somewhere to their right.

They both turn to look at him.

Usually, Isobel has nothing bad to say about Alex's wardrobe. But today it looks like he pulled clothes randomly out of Michael's closet. As a matter of fact, Isobel is sure that the dirty gray shirt he's wearing tucked beneath Michael's jean jacket is the same shirt that Michael had been wearing when she'd seen him last.

"What are you wearing?" Isobel asks, wrinkling her nose.

"My husband's clothes," Alex responds, like butter wouldn't melt in his mouth.

He grins while she gapes at him, momentarily speechless.

"Alex I'm so sorry," Kyle blurts out like he can't stop himself.

"For what?" Alex asks, giving Kyle a slightly suspicious look.

"You remember when you were in that accident a couple of days before you were kidnapped by your brother?"

Alex nods his head slowly, while Isobel furrows her brow. She had never heard about Alex being involved in an accident.

"Well, I forgot to tell you with everything else that happened, but I  kind of threwGuerinoutofthehospitalforclaimingtobeyourhusband."

He throws the words out as fast as he can, and then looks away, wincing when he catches Isobel’s eye. Isobel has half in mind to set him on fire, but she also didn't believe Michael when he told her that she was married. In her defense, she had thought she had all of the pieces of information. It wasn't until she talked to Max, a couple of years before Liz Ortecho stormed back into their lives, that she realized that there was one big blind spot in her reasoning.

Alex takes a second to get what Kyle was trying to say, and once he does he gives Kyle a look bordering on angry, but still amused.

"You could've just checked my file. He's listed as my next of kin."

And once again, Alex says the words in a way that sounds annoyed that he has to point out something so obvious.

Kyle winces at Alex's tone. And Isobel rolls her eyes.

"I'm sorry, " Kyle says again.

Alex just nods, "It's not me you owe an apology to."

He turns to face Isobel, "Everything is squared away. He's awake and just waiting for the paperwork. You guys can leave once the nurse hands you the paperwork, and a USB drive."

His eyebrows telegraph the importance of the USB.

Isobel just nods her head slowly, "So technically separated."

Alex sighs, "In the last eleven years, we've spent more time apart than together. This marriage has never been about our relationship."

Isobel opens her mouth to argue, but Alex just shakes his head.

"It's a safety net," he says, and Isobel stops speaking, eyes widening a little. "It means no matter what I'll be there for him."

"So it has nothing to do with the fact that you're in love with him or anything?" Isobel questions sarcastically because someone has to say it.

Alex rolls his eyes, "Your brother had ample time to file for divorce any time in the last year, and he failed to do so."

"I have to go," he continues before Isobel can ask another question. "Take care of him."

And he's gone before Isobel can tell him that she doesn't need him to tell her that.

---

Alex doesn't know why he expected that taking a meeting near Roswell would come with no consequences. He hadn't told anyone he was going to be around. He hadn't been planning on making a big deal out of it, which is probably why it's the day that Michael Guerin decides to stop being reliable and lands himself in the hospital.

Alex is only two minutes late to his meeting, and it sets the tone for the rest of the day. 

Alex is tired when he heads back to the house. He intends to sleep for a couple of hours and then pack up a few more necessities and leave.

So of course, when he gets out of the bathroom he hears a knock on the front door.

Alex closes his eyes and breathes in deeply. There is only one person that could be. Well conceivably there are five people that could be. But it's narrowed down to one since there is only one person who wouldn't wait for Alex to open the door before opening it himself.

Alex ignores the new person in the house and drops his dirty clothes inside of the washer and puts it to wash. Luckily the machine is loud enough that it'll remind Alex to put the clothes to dry before he falls asleep.

He walks out of his bedroom, and finds Michael sitting on the edge of the couch, elbows resting on his knees as he hunches over, looking down to the floor. He's still wearing Alex's shirt, that they'd switched at the hospital, after Alex had seen that there were spots of blood on his. They wouldn't take his shirt, but better safe than sorry.

Alex spots the thick folded stack of paper on top of the table and tries, very, very hard not to sigh.

"Tag you're it," Michael says, straightening up and looking at Alex.

He looks tired, but better than he did when he was lying back in a hospital bed. Alex had never wanted to see Michael in one. 

"You lied to me," Alex says, instead of grabbing the divorce papers and shoving them into the paper shredder in his office.

Michael shrugs, "I didn't lie exactly. I just let you believe what you wanted to believe."

Alex doesn't stop the sigh that falls out of his mouth this time.

Alex really only has himself to blame here.

"I don't understand why you couldn't just file them," Alex says, maybe a bit plaintive. He gave the papers to Michael for a reason.

Michael shrugs and leans back on the couch, "My reasons for marrying you haven't changed."

Alex makes a face at his own words being used against him. Especially since they were now, somehow, on opposite sides of this fight, once again.

"But your dad is dead now," he continues, trying to look nonchalant, but Alex can see right through him. "So all of your reasons are void. So you shouldn't have any more issues."

Alex walks away from him, heading towards the kitchen. He cannot have this conversation sober.

Michael walks into the kitchen when Alex is done pouring some bourbon into two glasses.

Alex grabs his glass and downs his drink, thinking about pouring himself another when Michael pushes his glass closer to Alex with just a flick of his fingers.

Alex grabs the glass and downs the drink before he can second guess himself.

Alex sets the glass down and turns to face Michael, who leans back against the island counter facing Alex.

"Why did you lie to me?" Alex asks before Michael can say anything.

Michael sighs, "There just never seemed to be a time to go do it, and if I'm being honest, there was never a reason important enough to do it."

Alex doesn't say that Michael just spent months in a serious relationship with someone else.

"And also I wanted to see if you would come when I called if you thought I wasn't your husband," he says, grinning at Alex as though it's a joke.

Alex wraps his fingers around the bottle of bourbon, tempted to pour himself another glass.

Michael reaches out and wraps his hand around Alex's, stopping him from moving.

"Michael," Alex says, because he doesn't know what else to say.

"Alex," Michael responds in the same tone.

They stare at each other in silence for too long minutes. Alex's hand tingles where it's trapped beneath Michael's, and his eyes drop to Michael's lips, that part as he stares as though Alex's gaze is a physical touch.

Alex vividly remembers the last time that he kissed Michael and he wishes he didn't.

"You were in the hospital today," Alex says, slipping his hand out from beneath Michael's and taking a step back.

"Extenuating circumstances," Michael says immediately, leaning heavily against the counter.

"Still, the only reason that you’re not playing lab rat is because of the special privileges granted to you by our marriage."

Michael opens his mouth, a familiar teasing look on his face, but Alex cuts him off before he can say anything.

"Don't."

Michael just lifts his hands in the air in mock surrender, pushing away from the counter.

Michael stuffs his hands into the pocket of his jeans, rocking back on his heels.

"So," he starts stretching out the o sound.

"So," Alex repeats shortly. "It seems like we're at an impasse."

They stare at each other in silence once again, but Alex is unwilling to break it this time. Because he might just cross the space between them and kiss him.

Luckily, Michael speaks before too long, "I know you're going to leave again."

Alex inhales sharply.

"But I know you're coming back," Michael continues, taking a step closer to Alex, who remains frozen, staring at Michael like he's prey in the eyes of a predator. "And maybe you'll go on dates with someone else, and maybe you'll fall in love."

Michael looks away at that, and only then does Alex feel like he is breathing again.

"But whether you file those papers or not, once you've figured out exactly what it is that you want, I'll be here."

He turns back to face him at those last three words, and Alex finds himself trapped all over again.

"And this time we won't have the excuse of not being able to communicate," he continues, pulling out a piece of paper from his pocket and placing it on top of the counter. "You can reach me anytime."

"You expect me to believe that you actually got a phone that you're actually going to use as intended and not as a paperweight?"

Michael rolls his eyes, "Answering the phone might be difficult sometimes, but if you text me, I'll always answer back."

Alex scoffs at that. 

If Michael doesn't answer the phone immediately, he can be counted on to call back anywhere between five to nine business days, if he doesn't by then, he'll never do it. And texting is definitely out of the question when it takes him ten whole minutes to type out a single sentence. Alex has seen it happen, and has seen the frustration on Michael's face.

"It's a phone better suited for texting," Michael says, grinning when Alex's eyes dart up to his surprise. "Izzy came with me when I got it."

Alex shakes his head, but he reaches out for the piece of paper anyway.

Michael's smile gets a little wider, "So, call me or text me, whenever you want. And maybe, we can be friends?"

Alex gives him a look at that.

"To start with," he continued, smile turning sly. "And eventually, I'll ask you to either renew our vows one more time, or to marry me again."

Alex stutters out a disbelieving laugh, feeling warmth flicker in his chest in spite of himself. "Oh is that how it's going to be?"

"Yeah," Michael says, easily. "And when that happens, I'm never giving you the chance to file for divorce again, so you should probably do it while you still have the chance.

"But while we're still here," he continues, moving in too close, too fast and pressing a kiss to Alex's cheek. "Happy Anniversary, Mr. Guerin."

Alex gasps, heart thundering in his throat, as Michael leans away and smiles at him.

And because he absolutely needs to have the last word always, he rocks backwards and away, "See you later, Private."

He waves as he goes, smiling all the way, entirely too sweet. He walks down the hall and out the front door, humming a familiar melody that sends Alex's heart tripping all over itself.

Alex barely resists the urge to follow him out and press him down against the side of his truck.

Alex would like to bristle at the implication that no matter what he decides to do he's gonna end up married to Michael, but he'd be lying to himself if he didn't feel happy about the thought.

Alex shakes his head and glances at the bottle of bourbon.

The alarm for the washing machine goes off, signaling that it's done.

Alex takes it as a sign that he's not supposed to drink any more, and sets about to clean up the kitchen, washing the glasses and putting the bourbon away.

March 2020

Forrest really likes Alex. 

If he didn't, he wouldn't have waited almost a full year for him to return back to Roswell so they could actually give this dating thing a try. 

Forrest is not naive, and he hadn't wanted to start something with Alex when he was just coming to terms with being more open with his sexuality. Not to mention the fact, still very obviously getting over his previous relationship. So he'd told Alex that they'd talk when he got back, and had kept communication open the entire year. And he'd felt like they had gotten closer, and that Alex was ready to actually be in a relationship with him.

That was until he realized how stuck to his phone Alex still was. How it seemed like he was keeping secrets. Secrets that involve Michael, who Forrest has been reliably informed by multiple sources, is the first love of Alex's life.

It's not that Forrest actually has a problem with Michael or Michael and Alex being friends. His only issue is all of the secrecy. Everything he's learned about Alex's past relationship with Michael has been by accident.

And sometimes he wished that Alex was more open about it.

He followed Alex home after their date, that wasn't a date since Alex spent half of it frowning at his phone like it had personally offended him and the other half playfully bantering with Isobel and teasing Kyle when they'd dragged their table over after they'd gotten sat down.

Forrest wasn't mad at the impromptu company for dinner. But there was an important conversation he had wanted to have with Alex, something that really couldn't wait since he was leaving tomorrow and had yet to pack anything. Which was the main reason he'd followed Alex home.

Alex gets out of his car, and inclines his head towards the house. Forrest almost scrambles out of his car going after him.

Alex stops before opening the front door, picking up a package from where it was on top of a stool that was just to the left of the front door.

Alex doesn't say much, asking him if he wants something to drink as he lets them both into the house, which Forrest accepts since it means that Alex doesn't expect him to leave.

At least that's what he thinks until Alex pulls out a glass jug filled halfway with lemon and cucumber slices floating in water.

Forrest stares in silence as Alex fills two glasses, and then sighs as he sets the jug down and pulls his phone out of his pocket. 

"We need to talk," Forrest blurts out.

Alex takes a moment to look away from his phone, brow furrowed, before he seems to understand what Forrest said.

His face clears and he sets his phone down. Forrest's eyes drop to it, and he sees the dark screen light up with a new message, the notification totalling to 8 new messages.

Forrest's eyes darted away from the screen and to the package that was resting on the counter. The box looked old, and it was tapped together haphazardly, and instead of a shipping label, there were letters and numbers scrawled on the side: cat:mg:work22.

He looks back to Alex who is once again frowning at his phone.

"Have you thought about what I told you?"

Alex looks away from his phone and frowns at Forrest instead, finally giving him an emotion other than pleasantly passive.

"Which part are you talking about?" Alex asks, like he's confused.

Forrest thinks back to this moment as the moment that he actually realized that he and Alex weren't going to last much longer. But he also thinks that the signs were there from the very beginning.

"It's only one thing, Alex," he replies, putting a hand on the counter and leaning closer. 

Alex just looks at him like he's still confused about what Forrest is trying to say. 

His phone rings then, and Forrest barely sees the blurry contact picture as Alex snatches the phone up. But he'd recognize that cowboy hat anywhere. 

Alex doesn't answer the call immediately, even though it's obvious that's what he wants to do.

"Can you just give me a second?"

Forrest usually would, but he's leaving tomorrow, and Alex seems less than concerned.

"Don't you think answering your boyfriend's question is more important than answering a random phone call?"

Alex's face shuts down in a way that catches Forrest by surprise.

"Okay," he says nodding once, holding his phone tightly in his hands. 

"First of all, you know enough to know that any random phone call could be an emergency."

And really, Forrest should've stopped him there and apologized or something, but Alex just kept talking before he could think of anything else to say.

"Second of all," Alex continued, holding up two fingers. "We're not boyfriends, we went on a couple of dates. Boyfriends is something that we'd have to talk about and what would be the point of doing that when you're leaving tomorrow."

The pointed barb paired with that pointed look is what finally makes Forrest speak.

"So, I guess that's your decision then," he says, feeling upset, but not as much as he'd thought he'd be. "You're not coming with me."

Alex's face cracks a little, and he gives Forrest a complicated look, "I'm letting Deep Sky recruit me."

The words were both surprising and not.

"I'm sorry," Alex says before Forrest can process what he's saying. "But I really have to take this call."

He's making a hasty exit out of his kitchen before Forrest can stop him.

"Is this a life or death situation?" Alex asks as he answers the call, and Forrest doesn't hear a door opening or closing, so he doesn't feel guilty about leaning against the island counter and listening to the conversation.

"I'm listening," he says, and Forrest can see him, leaning back against his closed door, face tilted, eyes closed.

Forrest turns back into the kitchen, eyes darting around everywhere looking for a distraction, and he finds another box sat upon another stool that matches the one that was by the front door. This one was labeled cat:ag:pers33.

Resting on top was an unlabeled folder with several sheets of paper poking out of the top.

He's debating whether or not to go snooping, when Alex laughs, at whatever whoever is on the other side of this, important could-be-an-emergency phone call was saying.

He finds himself opening the folder before he can tell himself that it's a bad idea.

And if he'd thought things between them were over, this was definitely the final nail in the coffin.

It takes him a second to realize what exactly he's reading, even though the words, Dissolution of Marriage don't leave much to interpretation.

Forrest stares at the name Alexander Guerin for so long that he startles when he hears Alex speaking from behind him.

"Sorry about that, what were we talking about?"

Forrest barely hears what he's actually saying, "You were married to Michael?"

"Still married," Alex corrects absently. And it's the casual way that he says the words that has Forrest whipping around to face him.

Alex isn't even looking at him. He's staring at his phone reading a message that was probably from Michael after spending the entire evening being distracted by messages, probably from Michael, who was also probably the same person who he just finished talking to on the phone.

Michael. Who is apparently Alex's husband.

"Still married?" Forrest repeats, and Alex looks up then.

His eyes drop to the folder still in Forrest's hands and an exasperated look comes over his face.

"Have you ever heard of the word privacy?"

"Have you ever heard of not answering a question with a question?" Forrest parries back, almost desperately.

Alex rolls his eyes and stuffs his phone in his pocket.

"Yes," Alex says. "I am married to Michael. Technically separated. But it doesn't matter."

"You think it doesn't matter that you're married while dating someone else?" Forrest asks, feeling not for the first time that he has no idea who Alex really is.

"Yes," Alex says like it should be obvious, walking forward and holding his hands out for the folder.

Forrest doesn't want to give them to him, but he also doesn't want to keep holding them.

He passes the folder over while Alex keeps speaking.

"If our relationship had become more serious I would've said something, but there's no point now."

He stands at attention, folder closed and set aside, and Forrest didn't even realize just how open Alex's body language had been towards him, until this very moment, when he saw how closed off he was.

"Because you're not coming with me," Forrest says, just to get a direct clarification.

Alex just inclines his head without speaking.

"Because of your husband?" Forrest questions, needing to be sure.

Alex sighs, "Yes, but not in the way that you're thinking. And not in any way that I have to justify to you. Not anymore."

Forrest shakes his head, feeling both wrong footed and like he should've seen this coming a mile away.

"So that's it then," he says, trying not to sound as hurt as he feels and most likely failing by the look on Alex's face. "We're done."

"I am sorry," Alex says, sounding sincere. "I really wanted this to work."

"Did you really?" Forrest finds himself asking before he can stop himself. "Or were you just stringing me along until your husband decides to take you back?"

Alex scoffs at that, lifting an eyebrow and shaking his head, "That's not fair."

"Isn't it?" Forrest demands taking a step towards Alex. "You string me along for a year, and then once you're finally home, and we can start making things work, you're too distracted by your phone to pay attention. And I really don't have to guess to know that it's your husband on the other end."

"Stop calling him that," Alex snaps. "Michael and I don't have a conventional relationship. We've never even really lived together. Our marriage is on paper only. For reasons that once again, aren't any of your concern.

"And it doesn't matter anyway," he continues. "Even if you hadn't found the papers, this would've still been over. Because you're leaving, and I'm staying."

Forrest scoffs, "And is that the same sentiment you gave Michael when you left when you were eighteen?"

He knows it's a mistake even before he says the words, and instead of provoking Alex, all it does is make him shut down entirely.

"Okay, I think you should leave," he says, moving so that he's not standing in Forrest's way, but also not turning his back to him.

Forrest wants to stay and he wants to fight. He wants to beg Alex to give him an actual chance. But Alex doesn't look back at him, and he knows that whatever small chance he had at making this work died long before tonight.

He exhales harshly, "Goodbye Alex. I hope you have a great life."

He walks away before he can say anything else, and the sound of deafening silence follows him out of the house.

[hogans-heroes]

Learning Curve

Chapter 1/? (AO3)

Alex, admittedly, was confused.

He thought he was getting a pretty good handle on prison camp life, but some things—crucial things—still eluded him. Every day since he had been dragged to Stalag Luft III he had been limping around the compound with a leg wound that still wouldn’t heal from when he was shot down, the spiking pain warring with the insatiable urge to keep walking, like if he stopped he would actually be here. If he stopped he would collapse. Since the first shards of flak struck his Mustang his mind and body could not stop moving, racing, calculating, for any shred of information or hint of survival, so he spent his days limping and shaking, gritting his teeth. Categorizing and repeating everything he had learned, examining from every angle.

The guards were predictable once you knew what to look for.

The routine of prisoner-of-war life was lousy but survivable with certain strategies.

The others in his assigned barracks took some warming up to the newcomers, and though Alex couldn’t say he had them all figured out for certain, he could read them well enough to decide they weren’t a threat.

Egan and Cleven weren’t gonna survive the winter.

…..

Or,

Alex tries to make sense of life at Stalag III, but the two Majors from the Hundredth throw a wrench in things.

….

Read on AO3

[skygemspeaks]

chapter five of my firstprince reddit fic is now up on ao3 and i'm just sitting here cackling and waiting for people's reactions to the next chapter preview

[quigzahhutt]

A new fic appears!

woahhh a new fic so soon!? crazy i know

i decided to write logans pov of this fic bcuz the idea was just too delicious to deny :)

Title: You're a part of me

Rating: Explicit

Words: 3.5k

Tags: Logan/Alex, PWP, phone sex, alternate pov (Logan)

Find the link under the cut!

please enjoy <3

[thedeathdeelers]

Happy Juke Jeudi!

“I didn’t think it would be this soon.” ;)

“I didn’t think it would be this soon!” Alex bursts out as he paces up and down their shared living room.

Julie and Luke watched him, heads moving in sync, with matching abashed smiles on their faces.

“We’ve been talking about this for ages, Alex,” Julie starts, nudging Luke for help. “I thought you were okay with this…?”

“Yeah, Alex, seriously it’ll be fine,” Luke finally chimes in, albeit unhelpfully.

“Fine?” Alex stops mid-pace to stare at Luke with pure terror in his eyes. “FINE?! That’s a whole living being! Another one in this apartment that I will end up having to care for!” Alex’ hands go up higher and higher as he panics, before they flop back down to his sides as he resumes his nervous pacing.

“Alex…” Julie tries again, before getting interrupted by the nervous pacer.

“I guess I should be looking on the bright said,” he says, racking his hand through his hair before fixing his cap back on. “At least it’s not a baby.”

He flicks his eyes towards the cute little puppy sleeping on the floor right by Julie’s feet, a small flicker of warmth filling his chest.

Yeah..they’ll be fine…

That is until he looks back up at the couple sat on the couch, Julie’s cheeks looking darker than usual and Luke’s smile a little too bright for his liking.

“…actually….”

No, he was moving out. Out of this apartment. Out of state.

Out of the country.

[actual-changeling]

for some reason I see Ellie as the kind of person that chooses one or two pieces of incredibly ugly furniture and LOVES them. their house in Jackson has an old rug from the 70s that is probably the worst piece of carpet Joel has ever seen but Ellie takes one look at it and declares it her new favorite. he can't throw it out now, although Ellie doesn't actually do anything with it except. enjoy it.

it's big, it's fluffy, it's right in front of the couch and she loves sitting on it when Joel braids her hair (yeah yeah referencing my own post i know), so what if it's ugly? it serves its purpose just fine and it makes their living room uniquely theirs.

[hertwood]

i belonged to you (all you had to do was look at me) (2.9k, girl!Alex/Logan, Explicit)

"I like it when you beg." She hears herself, knows he can probably hear the lust in her voice too. "I can beg." His voice is breathy and wrecked when he speaks. His hands are balled into fists in his lap, and he's still looking at her, eyes as wide and wanting as ever. Like he's waiting for permission.