#alex manes appreciation week

[sasakisniko]

I still find my fathers shrapnel Buried beneath my skin But I've begun to heal in all the places your hands have been

@tvarchive's TV Appreciation Week Day 2: Favorite Male Character - Alex Manes (Roswell New Mexico)

[pastelwitchling]

Alex Manes Appreciation Week (5/5)

                Michael hated everything about this.

                He hated watching Alex push himself out of bed at an ungodly hour Friday morning, ridiculously assuming that he would be making the drive to Texas on his own. He hated watching Alex walk into a flower shop on the way and buy a bouquet of wildflowers (“Scott’s favorite,” he said) and unwilling to let them go for the rest of the way. He hated watching Alex come to a gravesite where a blonde woman Michael didn’t know—Scott’s younger sister, Katie, he would later find out—jumped into his arms, her face streaked with tears.

                “Where’s Hannah?”

                “She’s on her way,” Katie said, clinging to Alex’s side. “Grandma called, I left while they were still talking.”

                Michael hated watching Alex with these people he didn’t know, from a world he’d never been part of, smiling at Alex like he was a son that Roswell had stolen away. Michael hated it worse that standing back and watching was all he could do. Alex didn’t need him here, he’d come for his own sake, he’d known that. And yet knowing it and seeing it were two completely different things.

                So caught up in how much he felt like an outsider, Michael almost missed Alex introducing him. “This is my husband, Michael Guerin.”

                “Hi,” Katie smiled warmly. “I’m Katie Mason.”

                “Oh, Alex, he’s gorgeous,” Hannah, Scott’s mother, told Alex, and in their kindness, Michael could see why Alex had warmed up to the family so quickly. They treated him the way his own family always should’ve and never had. And Michael hadn’t even known that they existed until a few days ago.

                But he smiled and he was polite and rubbed Alex’s back as he silently cried at Scott’s gravestone through a clenched jaw.

                It wasn’t until Alex bid them a fond goodbye and they were back in Michael’s truck on their way home that Michael shook his head and said, “I don’t deserve you.”

                “Hm?” Alex blinked. “What?”

                “You have this whole other life you could’ve escaped to,” Michael said, “and you stayed in Roswell to fight a battle that wasn’t even yours. Why?”

                Alex seemed to understand right away, and hummed, rested his head back against the headrest. “I love you. Where else would I be?”

                “Alex, you had a real family.”

                “You’re my real family,” Alex said, offended that Michael could imply anything else. “And—and so is Kyle, and Isobel, and Max, and Dallas, and Liz, and my brothers—I have a family in Roswell.”

                “But . . .” he swallowed. “These people . . .”

                Alex’s eyes softened. “Guerin, my men and their families . . . they’re just part of my life. Not all of it. I told you, you’re my everything, no one else.”

                Michael exhaled shakily, not knowing how afraid he’d been that Alex would agree that he deserved better until he refused it. “You sure you won’t wish you’d married someone else?”

                Alex chuckled and took Michael’s hand in both of his own. “I think even Scott would’ve said that I was ruined for anyone but you.”

                Michael squeezed his hand tighter at the mention of his army buddy, and he said, “I’m sorry about your friend.”

                A pause. “Me, too.”

                Neither of them said nothing for a long time, Michael’s hand clasped between Alex’s, and then finally Michael said, “Okay, Private, we’ve got a long drive back to New Mexico, so would you please get some sleep now?” Silence. “Alex?”

                Michael looked over and his lips quirked. Curled up on his seat, Alex lay there fast asleep, his expression one of a peace he hadn’t known in too long. Michael used his powers to lean the seat back, but Alex’s grip on his hand never loosened, like even in sleep he needed Michael close.

                “I know how that feels, baby,” Michael murmured, smiling against Alex’s brow before he pressed a soft kiss there. “I know.”

***

@alexmanesappreciation

I don't know where to start. Most people have gone inactive since the show ended, and it breaks my heart to go onto tumblr and rarely see an update in the tags anymore. I kind of saw it coming because even during hiatuses, the fandom turned really quiet, so this just makes a grim sort of sense.

Personally, I hope I never stop writing malex. I hope I'm posting fics on malex Monday years from now, I hope new projects keep coming, and until no one is reading anymore, I hope I don't stop. I understand others not finding the point, but I physically and emotionally need Alex Manes and malex, and I can't give them up. If I can last a year-long hiatus, I should be able to do this, right? At least for a little longer. And at least for my favorite airman.

So my beautiful Alex Manes, my magical Tyler Blackburn, my love, this is all for you ❤

[dr-lizortecho]

RNM + 3, 9, 13 for the asks?

a character that fandom has helped you appreciate

Alex Manes, and by fandom I mean my lovely mutuals who adore the representation he was for them (and getting to see him through their eyes) and more specifically @beautifulcheat and @ladynox for writing him in a way that truly made me feel like he was a character and not an anomaly that made choices I could not fathom

a ship that isn't your OTP but that you enjoy

So I ship soooooo many things- and aside from the echo/kyliz/valevans/kaliz sector they’re all pretty much equal in my minds eye (aside from the very few I either don’t ship or vibe with) but I’d have to say the one I enjoy yet don’t really ever discuss or make content for is probably Maria/Jenna- like so much sass potential right there

your favorite type of fandom event (gift exchange, ship week, secret santa, prompt meme, etc)

I love them all <3 but specifically my favorite which I treat as a irl holiday (to my bffs annoyance) is @elizabethortechoweek

cause I like looking at her <333

✨ Love Your Fandom Asks ✨

[red-tree]

PART 7 PART 6 PART 5 PART 4 PART 3 PART 2 of my insanity PART 1 That goofy face oh my lord

(don't go into super deep analysis pleas don't go, it's just for funsies no) OMG ZOOLANDER!!!!

wth why are there SO many people?? New yorkers have nothing better to do I see can't blame them, if any zoo animals would go out like that, I would also visit this zoo as much as possible

the monkey fell down in the background and ofc the penguins!! fan favourite they are very cool

I wonder would have Marty tried to escape if it weren't the penguins who gave him this idea I think he wouldn't, he was very surprised to the thought that you can ACTUALLY try to escape and wander off, he wasn't even considering this so..blame the penguins??

that slap was personal

This is fun btw don't litter please

I really love the design for this zoo I wonder if the real central zoo is like this

oh no rock star treatment??? with flowers, staff and such thanks dreamworks for gazlighting children that zoos are THIS fun

little tongue out oooo so cute!!! btw why are so many people in the crowd wear black sunglasses I wonder if it's because of technical limitations of the time

workers singing a little jingle is a nice detail and OFC we know NO zoo can afford this treatment for animals sadly

first rectal thermometer ofc but what people usually miss is that "I'll miss this bad boy" I like how Melman has a little of unhinged hidden

the happy birthday song is golden I now send this bit to everyone who is having a birthday they worked on it the whole week!!! squad goals

I also love how after that one of the monkeys smells itself and then falls down comedy

Poor Melman But I'll be lying saying I wasn't laughing my ass off with that one

"the penguins are psychotic" I love how they acknowledge this themselves

to be fair it's the penguins who gave Marty the idea to leave, but Melman gave the exact instructions how to do this, so

I like how it's stated from this early that Alex has no idea where the steaks come from and looks like nobody has ever questioned it (and as we learn later it was true)

"You ever thought there might be more to life than steak?" ohhh the placing for the character arc alright let's go

cool trick!!

Let's appreciate Gloria' big sister role in the group She is a queen I like how she threatens Alex

this mane is too cool to be ruined with water Also I don't think they had the technical possibilities for it But they made it into nice joke! make your limitations work for you

TA TA TARARA TA TA TARARA START SPREADING THE NEEEWS SSS SAAh! I AM LEAVING TODAAAYY YYYY

The screaming, sounds of the sirens and cars always get me they are SO accustomed to the city

he is so insecure about it oh nooo

that face

the water droplets!!!

he did for real called 911

I think we understimate Alex's strength

Stripes!!!

[xifoe]

I saw a picture of Alex and under it a text saying “Alex Manes appreciation week”.

well, I personally think that every week should be an Alex Manes appreciation week.

[queermil]

alex manes appreciation week | day six | favourite outfits

the “going to visit michael guerin” outfits

[auselysium]

No More Crash Landings

So, here is a little Canon Divergent/Fix it Fic for Alex Manes Appreciation Week Day #5! I literally just wrote this in like 30 minutes.

This is the scene I am going to assume we would have gotten if it was looking like S2 wasn’t going to happen at the end of 1x13. It leaves the boys in the light. Imagine the camera panning out from the Airstream at the end…we would be have been happy. :)

No More Crash Landings

Alex waited.

Of course, he did. He’s a man of his word. The realization hits Michael like another sucker punch.

The scrap yard gravel feels uneven under his feet and he steadies himself on the hood of his truck, his fingers landing healthy and healed on the hot metal. Tears burn against his tired lids.

“Your hand,” Alex breathes, a hitch to the words.

“Max,” Michael says, still not opening his eyes. “He can. He wanted to…I didn’t ask.”

Alex brushes over his skin of the back of his hand with the gentle innocence of miracles. He doesn’t know why Michael held onto those contorted scars for so long. What safeguards, now that bone and skin and sinew are made whole again, have faltered. Have been faltering, for hours now. Months, even. Ever since Alex’s return.

“Noah’s dead.”

Michael finally has the stamina to open his eyes, finding Alex’s look wild and petrified. He scans Michael’s neck for the remnants of blood that had been there before. Michael had claimed it wasn’t his. Had Alex seen right through that lie, too? He is a miserable liar, after all.

“He’s…He was. Like me. Like us.”

Like his mother. He hasn’t even had time to mourn any of it.

“I’m just so tired, Alex.”

Alex only nods, calm under the weight of even more impossible information. Disregarding his own tears in the face of Michael’s. He slips his hand around Michael’s shoulder. And even though Alex is the one with the bum leg, he supports Michael up the steps into his trailer.

He helps Michael take off his coat. His boots. He finds a clean washcloth and dampens it, leaving Michael in front of the mirror to wipe himself off. Hands him a shirt he deems clean after a quick sniff.

With Michael settled onto the edge of his bed, he nods as if satisfied that Michael will be ok for now. He’s halfway to the door before Michael realizes he’s leaving.

“You said you wanted to talk.”

“No. We don’t have to right now. You need to rest and…”

Michael shakes his head, trying to thread his way back through the nest of today’s chaotic memories. Alex had said he didn’t want to fight his father’s battles anymore. They’d almost kissed.

“I love you.”

They’ve said it in a million different ways, scattered that emotion over a decade and a handful of perfect encounters. Finally admitting it outloud is a moment of clarity amidst the chaos. Like the first moment he realized his powers. Like the first time they kissed.

“I probably always will.”

That worried cleft is back in between Alex’s brows. The ‘but’ anticipated before Michael even says it.

“You’re tangled up in all these terrible memories of my life. And right now, what I feel for you? It just hurts. ” His throat closes and he swallows against it. Wets his lips before he goes on. “Every time we come back to each other, it just feels like a crash landing.”

Alex moves slowly, adopting the same weary shape as Michael on the bed. Knees at 90 degree angles against the floor, elbows dropped to knees, hands clasped together.

“I don’t want this, us, to be something that hurts you, Michael.”

His cheeks flush, an adrenaline skitter under this skin. Alex’s face is so wholesomely handsome. The red and the leather, a grownup throwback.

“But I also told you, I’m done walking away. I meant what I said yesterday, even if it was in a moment of crisis. So maybe…friends,” his face softens and turns Michael’s way. ��A lover, if you need one. Partners, when we get there. But, no sudden movements. No more crash landings. Maybe what we need is a smoother approach back to earth?”

“Maybe, yeah,” Michael exhales.

Alex brushes the flop of curls that always falls over Michael’s eyes back towards his ear. It doesn’t hold, springing right back into place. They both laugh softly through their noses.

“Good thing I’m a trained pilot, then, huh?”

Exhaustion turns to relief. His entire body melts, seeking out the grounding force of Alex Manes next to him. Alex kisses his temple and encircles him with both arms. It feels normal. Happy, even.

“Tell me more about your mother,” Alex says, once he can.

The mid-morning sun breaks past the curtains over the window.  Michael’s chin trembles. “She was beautiful…”  

[angrycowboy]

Walking into the Unknown

For Alex Manes Appreciation Week 2019

Prompt #3: Alex interacting with others he hasn’t yet…

On AO3

------------

There have not many many moments in Alex’s life where he’s been taken completely by surprise. The way Michael Guerin had looked at him in the shed that day 10 years ago was among the first. The Air Force had since taught him to be prepared for any eventuality, to cover his bases and not allow for surprises, not allow to be taken off guard. Being taken by surprise in the Middle East could mean death, and even if he believed for a certain amount of time there weren’t many people left who would mourn him, Alex always planned on surviving. The Air Force was not a death wish to him - it was a way to win battles that he’d never been given the correct tools to fight before.

But seeing Rosa Ortecho sitting on the sofa in Max Evans’ living room is something he is completely and utterly unprepared for, and he has no problem admitting that.

“Rosa?” His voice cracks saying her name, but Alex finds he doesn’t care.

She’s alive.

Liz is sitting next to her, and Maria is perched on one of the stools next to the kitchen counter. Alex spares a moment to wonder where Max Evans is, since it’s his house, but knows it’s doesn’t really matter because Rosa is alive. He stands inside the door, unmoving because he doesn’t quite remember how in that moment, staring at her, just taking her in - how she looks exactly the same, which shouldn’t be such a surprise because this is Roswell, and aliens exist, so is it really surprising someone can be brought back from the dead?

“How?” He asks, still standing just inside the door, because it’s been ten years, this shouldn’t be possible.

“Doesn’t matter,” she replies, and Alex finally unsticks himself from where he’s standing and nearly collapses on the sofa into the space next to her, wrapping his arms around her. He feels her do the same, feels her arms wrap around his back, hears her laugh, feels her breath on his neck, feels her hair brush across his face - all reminding him that’s she’s here, she’s alive.

When he pulls back from her finally, he notices that Liz and Maria are gone, as if knowing that Alex needed - wanted - his own moment with her. Clearly they’d already had their own, and he appreciates that level of love and understanding between the four of them.

“How about you tell me what I’ve missed.”

Alex knows there are tears in his eyes, because he loves Maria and Liz, but it had been Rosa who really knew about how bad it was at home for him. It was Rosa he’d confided in 10 years ago about the almost-kiss in the shed with Michael. It was Rosa who helped him plan how to get out of Roswell and away from his father after graduation, and never look back. Rosa had been the glue in their group, and her death had left them shattered and into pieces - fragments scattered to the wind.

“I’ve missed you,” he replies instead, and just watches as the smile spreads across her face. He lets her reach up to rest her hand on his cheek, relishes in the touch, because it just keeps reminding him that she’s real and she’s here and she’s alive.

“You had Liz and Maria.”

Alex shakes his head.

“I’ve spent the past ten years in the Air Force,” he finally admits, his voice quiet, waiting for the disappointment to appear on Rosa’s face, because he knows he deserves it for giving in, for doing that one thing he always swore he wouldn’t.

“What happened?” Rosa reaches out and takes his hands in hers, and Alex feels himself deflate. Lets his shoulders relax, feels the last bit of tension fall from his body. Because of course, of course, she doesn’t judge him. Of course she’d just ask him to explain what happened instead. “It must have been bad for you to-”

Alex looks away, trying to find the words.

“It was perfect,” he starts, bringing his gaze back to hers. “Michael looked at me, and I just - but we were in the shed, and my dad found us.” Alex pauses when he feels Rosa squeeze his hand, because she knows. Even before he says it, he knows she knows. “He shattered the bones in Michael’s hand, and something in me broke that night.”

Rosa gets that look in her eyes, the one that tells Alex she understands.

“And now it’s like, we’re never on the same page,” Alex continues. “Like too much time has passed. But I still love him.”

It feels freeing, in a way, to finally say the words out loud. To finally admit them, free of metaphors and hidden meanings.

“You look happy.”

Does he? It’s taken months for him to get to this point. Coming back to Roswell, learning how to be himself again - relearning what that even means, has been the biggest challenge. He and Michael have crashed together, and fallen apart, and Alex has walked away, and Michael had put his own walls up in the meantime, and Alex isn’t quite sure if happy is the right word, but for now he’ll take it. Maria’s hopeful feels more accurate, but Alex isn’t about to argue with someone who just came back from the dead.

“I’m still dealing with my dad. Trying to stay one step ahead of him.”

Rosa bites her lip, as if debating what to say next, and Alex can’t help but raise his eyebrows at her, egging her on. From everything he’s learned over the past several months, he doubts there’s anything she can tell him that he doesn't know now. Though to her, it might seem like he shouldn’t know anything. He’s not entirely clear on what the passage of time has been like for her - if it exists at all.

“You’ve missed a lot.”

“Like how now everyone finally knows about aliens?”

Alex just smiles in response, unsure of how to even respond to that. He’d guessed that Rosa had known after he and Kyle had come across the bunker at the cabin, and after he’d found the alien glass hidden in the wall. Process of elimination told him that it was unlikely Rosa hadn’t told Jim Valenti her suspicions - especially if she was able to figure out on her own that he was her biological father.

“Or that you're actually a Valenti?” Alex can't help himself.

“I mean, you’re the one who kissed an alien in the UFO Emporium,” Rosa laughs, and Alex hasn’t even really let himself think about that.

He levels her with a look, and raises his eyebrows, because of course he’s thought about it. Ever since he confronted his father about Project Shepard in the bunker all those weeks ago, and came across his father’s research into the Evans twins and Michael Guerin, it’s been something that Alex has occasionally thought of. But he’d never gotten the chance to bring it up to Michael, it’s never been the right moment for the two of them to laugh over the ridiculous perfection of that moment. Even during their talk in the junkyard, they’d both skipped over that day, as if the memories were too painful for either of them to bring up.

“So I guess you know it wasn’t really Isobel Evans that-”

“Yeah, Liz cleared that up.”

Alex nods, because he knows he’s changing the subject, but it hurts talking about Michael. It hurts thinking about Michael, because Alex hasn’t talked to him since that night in the Airstream, and he has no idea if he’s okay, or what’s happened to him in the meantime. But it’s been less than 24 hours since that happened, and Alex knows the main reason Liz called him over here is probably to help piece together some sort of identity for Rosa, though he’s still unsure how they’re going to explain anything to anyone - specifically Arturo.

“You’ll figure it out,” Rosa says, doubling back to their original topic, and Alex feels watched now, as if she’s regarding him, and trying to make sure she’s getting a reading on him - it’s very similar to the look Maria gives him when she’s doing her psychic thing. “Tell me more about what you’ve done to your father.”

“For starters,” Alex begins, “I outrank him.”

Rosa doesn’t need to say anything, but Alex can just see how proud she is in the way she laughs, and in the way she smiles, and in the way she squeezes his hands in encouragement. And nothing is better, there's still so much for then to deal with, but it feels good to finally be able to take a moment and breathe.

[okaywhateverokayyes]

Untitled Fic

Note: It’s Alex Manes’ Appreciation Week and so this was a FIC I wrote a while back but decided that we would all benefit from some young Alex + Michael, young love fic????? I make a lot of assumptions. 

Also, it’s in Michael’s POV.

Leggo.

“What are you reading?”

He tossed the book under his grip, the spine worn-out and receding, indicative of how often he had perused through it. Or more so of the state of which he had kept it under.

Michael held it up to Alex’s face, which does nothing but make Alex blink, undisturbedly.

“When are you not reading that?” He asked coolly, grabbing the book from under his clutch and thumbing his finger into the page that Michael had previously stared at. He gave a quick skim, his eyes wavering tenderly over the words, as he too was familiar with the text as Michael had been.

Michael could only stare at him a little helplessly; rubbing his hands together as to thaw his brisk nerves. He inhaled through his nostrils and exhaled through his pursed lips, still half-sitting up with his arms still rested tightly on his lap.

Fire was licking the base of Michael’s skull. He kept his stern gaze on the bench in front of him. He pressed his feet into the board, dulling the edginess that threatened to wreak into his composure.

From where he sat, Alex wore a calm, guileless stare. He ran through the pages, immediately absorbed by the allegories that had also engrossed Michael.

He swallowed thickly. For a moment, the rational part of his mind felt strangely bereft. Only his feelings kept at bay and thoughts tempered by the lack of words said between them.

It was strange, he admitted, how silence never consumed them. There was so much to be said and yet, it felt expressed by their proximity and tendency to convey everythingwithout having to say anything.

Almost like an abstract channel bridged the two of them and provided the means to be absorbed by each other’s thoughts and emotions.

Alex laughed quietly under his breath, eyes intent and jovial by what he had read. His eyes crinkled at the corners, humming softly as he flipped over to the page. He relaxed further, Alex’s thigh now pressed against his own.

Michael felt an easiness that perforated every fiber in his body. Although his nerves incinerated under his touch, they were subsequently softened by the mere presence of him.

Trying to rescue a decorum of balance, Michael let out a faint chuckle that buried his greed to do more than sit beside him; the craving festered from within and had him faltering inside. He pushed from off of the railing when he recognized that he was unable to stifle the urge and steepled his fingers to try to make them stop trembling.

“Don’t tell me you came all the way here for a book.” Michael satirically asked, back to him. He bit down on his tongue when his voice began to hedge.

He doesn’t get a moment to recollect as Alex appeared beside him, gently shoving the book against his chest, a timid smile playing on his lips as he replied unsurprisingly calmly: “Not a chance, Guerin.”

Michael’s chest clenched. Was it just him that was struggling to be level-headed? He dropped his gaze and clamped down on his jaw, gritting down to repress his buckling groan. Because, shit. He clapped at his thigh, rubbing mindfully as he matched Alex’s pace.

He watched from where he treaded; Alex was lean, shoulders comparatively wider, his flesh on the verge of protruding from under the fabric of his shirt. Michael drew his brows inward, wondered when that occurred and how he was oblivious to that.

He halted unceremoniously as he tumbled into Alex, who had by then turned to face him, hands curled into Michael’s shoulders as to curtail the impending impact.

Soon lips are pressed against his, impatient and restless. Michael surprised, stilled as Alex directed him further into a backroad, gently pushing him against the brick wall. His back is pressed into the cement, the brunt of the slab cushioned by Alex’s arm, which was now rested behind Michael’s head as he used his other hand to clutch Michael’s jaw.

Michael stirred under the touch, which had Alex retract, breathlessly. His lips are bruised and cheeks flushed as he gazed directly at Michael. “What happened?” He prompted, slightly upset and understandably worried.

Michael glowered as he placed a hand between them.

“You’re annoyed.” Alex concluded, to which Michael responded with a pointed shrug. “Why?” He pressed, quietly. Michael cowered under his gaze, feeling warmly smothered and powerless next to him.

How was Michael to tell him that he felt overwhelmingly hopeless and lacking? That he was rendered immobile by something as slight as a touch and was unable to instantly recover. He was defenseless when it came to Alex.

And it paralyzed him.

“You’re annoying.” Michael mumbled under his breath, resorting to juvenile tactics as to avoid telling the truth.

A small, besotted smile lifted the corners of Alex’s mouth. His eyes softened swiftly.

Michael eyes widened as he gritted down on his jaw so to stifle the groan recklessly beckoning to escape his throat.

Shit.

Alex suddenly gripped him tightly. He wasn't strong enough to stop Michael if Michael wanted to move them, but Michael was accustomed to accommodating him. He let Alex hold him in place.

There was a touch of uncertainty in the way Alex dropped his hand from Michael’s face and stepped forward to rest his forehead against Michael’s temple, like there was a part of Alex still expecting to be rejected.

Michael’s heart was pounding in his side. He had contemplated momentarily on extricating themselves because if they started, God, he didn’t trust himself to stop. Alley, be damned. Daylight, be damned.

He rubbed his nose against Alex’s jaw, nudging him to look back at him. Michael knew that there were a few things he was coming to terms with; being unabashedly unguarded, selfishly indefensible and irrevocably acquiescent around Manes.

Who was he to object and fight temptation when it all would have amounted to futility.

He was, fucked, when it came to them.

Michael used his hand to tug Alex to look back up at him, only to be met with compliance. Alex, flushed and pink-cheeked beside him, sighed heavily, most likely embarrassed by his very own lack of composure.

Michael smiled gratefully. It felt relieving to see that they were both rendered debilitated around each other.

Michael cocked his head as he began to pepper Alex’s face with territorial kisses - his forehead, his, his cheeks, his temple, the bridge of his nose, his jaw-

Alex made a guttural groan. Michael closed his eyes momentarily as he offhandedly said to himself, “Fuck it.”  And then Michael slid his hand behind Alex’s head, buried his fingers in Alex’s hair, and tugged him into a proper kiss.

[ikeatwins776]

Late again but here’s day 5: Fix-it for Alex Manes Appreciation Week. 

I loved this one but as per usual I don’t know how to end things. So the ending sucks balls. 

Day 6: is a 9-1-1 Crossover where Eddie Diaz comes to Roswell looking for Alex.. What would Michael think? Why is Kyle sitting there drinking a beer knowing that drama’s about to go down. 

Shout out to @smoakandash and @bisexualalienblast Enjoy ladies. 

[i-had-a-marvelous-time]

My first attempt at a fanvid because I’m still not over the season finally. 

#Alex Manes deserved beter 

[thedooristhebluecushion]

All this Alex Manes content on my dashboard is making me hella thirsty.

[pastelwitchling]

Alex Manes Appreciation Week (1/5)

With his war buddy's death anniversary coming up, Alex struggles to fall asleep.

***

There were things about Alex that no one outside of Michael and his brothers knew about. Like the fact that he rarely slept, that he needed to keep working to distract himself from the nightmares that haunted him, and that he had the ability to turn a man twice his size onto his back with one hand. That last fact wasn’t relevant tonight, but it was a huge turn on so Michael loved remembering it.

                He’d long ago given up hoping Alex would come back to sleep on nights like this, whenever he woke up to find the sky outside pitch black and his husband’s side of the bed empty. As Michael pushed himself out of bed, rubbing his face and trying to rid the grogginess from his eyes, he pulled the blanket off his bed with one hand and wrapped it around his naked shoulders. He didn’t bother grabbing any sweats or underwear as he padded into the living room to find Alex sitting cross-legged on the sofa, his face lit with blue light from his laptop screen and an empty cup of coffee in front of him.

                Alex glanced up and the furrow in his brows deepened. “Did I wake you?”

                “Yes,” Michael said without preamble, coming around to plop down next to Alex on the couch, his legs folded on top of Alex’s thigh. “You’ve broken me, Manes. I now can’t sleep unless you’re in bed.”

                “Crap,” Alex said in all seriousness. “Sorry.”

                Michael shook his head, brushing Alex’s bangs back with his fingers. “You’re exhausting. Why do I love you?”

                Alex pursed his lips a moment, his fingers paused over the keyboard as he considered it, then he resumed typing said, “I’m a total badass.”

                Michael smiled. “Are you asking me or telling me?”

                “I’m also highly intelligent,” Alex went on, “so I clearly know my own merits.”

                “Telling me, then.” His smile widened. “And you’re hot as hell.”

                “And I worship your body.”

                “Always a plus.”

                “Your face, too.”

                “Naturally.”

                They burst into laughter and collapsed against each other.

                “The computer, the computer!” Alex yelped, catching it before it could fall. Michael wrapped an arm around him and kissed his cheek, and as their laughter died down, Alex’s head fell onto Michael’s shoulder.

                Michael ran a hand down his arm, and Alex thoroughly melted against him, his exhaustion evident as his eyes fluttered and his smile dimmed a little too quickly. Michael pressed a few soft kisses to his forehead, his hand falling down to Alex’s waist.

                “You want me to wear you out?” he murmured, and Alex’s lips quirked.

                “You can’t always protect me from them, Guerin,” he said, one hand on Michael’s thigh. “It’s okay, I can handle it.”

                Michael instinctively pulled him in closer and Alex huffed a chuckle. “I’m okay. Really.”

                “I know,” Michael said, setting his laptop aside and wrapping both arms around Alex, turning so that Alex was lying between his legs and against his chest.

                Alex smiled against his nipple. “Do you?”

                Michael couldn’t share in his humor, not when he could feel the heavy weight of Alex’s limbs against him, like the nightmares and the memories and the work were constantly anchoring him down. Like Alex was so used to fighting to keep himself standing that in this one moment, when Michael was here to protect him, he just couldn’t find the energy.

                “You missed something,” Michael murmured into his hair. “On that list.”

                “What,” Alex said, snuggling deeper into his chest, “some other reason you love me?”

                “Yeah,” Michael said, slipping a hand under Alex’s shirt just to touch his skin, just to hear Alex’s faint moans and the way he instinctively cuddled even closer to Michael. “You’re the strongest son of a bitch I’ve ever met.”

                Alex looked up, his chin on Michael’s chest. “Guerin?”

                “When I saw what your dad did to you in that toolshed, I should’ve stayed away,” he said. “I didn’t want to be something else you had to put up with. But I couldn’t. You were always so kind, so . . . good. I figured you really could handle one more bad thing, so I stuck around. And then your enlistment came and the war and your dad was still around—”

                “Baby,” he said softly, “what’re you doing?”

                “And I wanted to be better for you. I wanted to know what I was doing, to be good so that you could . . . do this. Lean into me like I was your safe space.”

                Alex gently gripped his chin and tilted his head down to meet his eyes. “You are my safe space. Guerin, this stuff . . .” he gestured vaguely at the laptop. “It’s just part of my life. Not my whole life.” He kissed Michael’s chin, his jaw, his cheek, and leaned up to brush their lips against each other. “That’s you. You are . . . all of it.”

                Michael’s legs widened underneath him, at the press of Alex’s hips against his own, the light movements leaving pressure between his thighs and making his brain foggy. “A-Alex . . .”

                Alex slotted their mouths together, whimpering softly against Michael’s lips, the press of his sweats against Michael’s hardening length enough to make Michael buck his hips and groan.

                Alex pulled off his mouth and whispered, “I need you.”

                He’s trying to distract me, Michael thought. To make me feel better . . . because that’s all that matters to him.

                And Michael couldn’t help but think that if Alex so badly wanted to make him feel good, if his comfort hinged on his husband’s own, then he wouldn’t deprive him.

                So he shut the laptop with his mind, leaving them in faint moonlight, and tugged on Alex’s waistband. “I know.”

***

For Alex Manes Appreciation Week 🌻💙 @alexmanesappreciation

Happy Malex Monday ❤

[stillcosmic]

remember when caulfield was about to explode and alex was willing to die with michael because he’s his family…. michael is the one piece that he can’t go through life without.

[thevlambase]

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A post shared by 𝗮𝗻𝗴𝘀𝘁•𝗲𝗱 | 𝙖𝙛𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙚𝙛𝙛𝙚𝙘𝙩𝙨 ♡ (@anxt.ed) on Jun 29, 2020 at 11:50am PDT

.....yes i giffed a part of my own malex edit to “would you come home” by mista tyler blackburn. AND??? they’re too cosmic for their own good. and it’s malex week.

[ober-affen-geil]

You do run hot, Guerin.

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