#jamestown fic

[gordopickett]

WIP Wednesday!

I was tagged by @benwvatt last week, and I'm just getting around to this on Monday, so… 🤷‍♀️ lol.

Tagging @allatariel @onekisstotakewithme @lacontroller1991

@violetmuses @tiltedsyllogism @castalyne & anyone else who wants to play! 😁

Here's a snippet from one of my For All Mankind fics called "Confined" which is basically one big missing scene in the 3 weeks that Gordo is confined to the Jamestown base. This is from Chapter 1 (which is the only chapter I've written so far lol).

Gordo looked at Ed who was still working nearby. He had the toolbox out and was tightening screws in the partition that he had thrown Gordo against the night before. Gordo wondered if the screws were actually in need of tightening or if Ed was simply trying to busy himself so he wouldn’t have to interact with Gordo. Dani handed Gordo a fork. He took it and looked down at the yellowish-white patty of gelatinous goo that was meant to pass for scrambled eggs. He took a deep breath and stuck his fork in it. He brought the bite up, feeling a small gag in his throat. He swallowed away the sensation and put the fork in his mouth. Once he had gotten the bite down, he said, “I can’t wait to have a big, juicy cheeseburger at The Outpost again.” “Yeah.” Dani smiled. “And some cheese fries.” “Apple pie,” Gordo added. “Pizza.” “Oh, yes,” Gordo said, his mouth watering at the thought. “Pizza.” “What are you looking forward to, Ed?” Dani asked. “Getting the rest of our work done today,” Ed said dutifully. Gordo took another bite of his scramble as Dani smiled and rolled her eyes, shaking her head. “And Karen’s homemade spaghetti,” Ed added after a beat, his tone softening a little. Dani chuckled. “There you go.”

[arrthurpendragon]

@megraen

[heywriters]

How do I find good resources for historical fics? Currently writing a story set in the early 17th century, but looking for resources about it is a bit hard cause some stuff are behind pay walls.

Absolutely! Below are some links that should get you started.

"60 Awesome Search Engines for Serious Writers"

Our favorite writeblr researcher, wordsnstuff, made a masterpost just for you, anon.

"Resources for Writing Period Pieces: 1600s"

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[ddagent]

FWB AU please and thank you!!

I am open for prompts (ficlets and full fics), from your ideas to mine. Prompt away!

The elevator stopped on five. Margo nodded at Sergei, and Doctor Alpert who had also joined them for this particular elevator ride. "Good night. I'll see you at the panel tomorrow."

"Looking forward to it!" Sergei called out, and Margo tried not to wince at his audible enthusiasm. But that was Sergei Nikulov: every IAC conference, the man was just so delighted at the prospect of making friends, connecting with his colleagues. It was endearing, really. But also a little disheartening when Margo wondered just who he had to connect with back in Moscow.

Out on her floor, Margo made quick work of the few paces to her hotel room. She unlocked the door, kicked off her shoes, and took off her jacket. Her watch told her she had a good nine minutes for Sergei to reach floor seven, say goodnight to Alpert, and come back down the empty flights of stairs towards her hotel room. Just enough time for her to tidy a few things away, roll down her pantyhose, and take a quick drink of the brandy from the mini bar. It wasn't nerves, like it had been that first year during the '85 IAC conference. A newly divorced Sergei, an incredibly stressed Margo with no piano in sight. An argument in an elevator and an offer nervously made. No, this was different.

This was clear anticipation.

Two short knocks on the door. A pause. Then two more. Sergei. Margo reached over, opened the door, and allowed him to enter. He closed the door softly behind him, the latch catching with an audible snick in the quiet of the room. Margo heard her own uneven breathing, the pounding of her heartbeat in her ears. His slow, methodical walk towards her. Fuck. Sergei's gaze was burning: he took in the undone buttons of her blouse, the bare legs under her skirt. The missing heels and the turned down bed.

He finally closed the distance between them and cradled her face, pulling her up for a long, searing kiss. His tongue slid inside her mouth and all the stresses of her work began to melt away. No Jamestown reports; no Senate oversight committees. Just Sergei's tongue running along her own as he held the back of her neck, his other hand firm against the small of her back.

Pulling away, Sergei pressed his forehead against Margo's. He then left a kiss on the curve of her cheek, teeth nipping at the line of her throat. "I have thought of nothing else since leaving Moscow."

"Just since leaving Moscow?"

Sergei chuckled. "Perhaps longer. And you?"

Margo wasn't going to admit how often she thought about Sergei. Her attempts at stress relief often featured him, now, and the things he had done to her during the last two IAC conferences, that seminar in DC a few months back. That telephone call after Margo had got her new cell phone. But admitting that would put her at a disadvantage. So she didn't respond; just pushed his jacket from his shoulders and slid her hand along his jaw, drawing his mouth back down to hers. Margo felt Sergei smile against her lips as she deepened their kiss.

Mouths barely moving from each other, they made it to the bed. Margo hiked up her skirt; Sergei fiddled with the zipper of his pants. Like last year, they didn't worry about losing any more clothes. Margo enjoyed the feel of his mouth against her breast through the layers of fabric, the damp cotton cool against her skin. She relished how the material of his pants rubbed against her inner thigh as he rutted against her. The weight of Sergei's fingers pressing into her thigh as she wrapped her legs around him, pulling him close.

Inside her, moving slowly, Sergei stared down at her in wonder. He opened his mouth; Margo pressed two fingers to his lips. "Whatever you're about to say, I don't need to hear it. I just need you."

Sergei blinked, nodded, and buried his face in the juncture between her neck and shoulder. He would leave marks – teeth marks in the fabric; bruises upon her skin. Last year she had flushed with embarrassment, afraid that everyone would notice. But half the attendees were in bed with other engineers; it was also October in the UK, so high necklines were acceptable. It was a better use of Sergei's mouth, too.

Margo didn't need to be told she was beautiful. She just needed to feel a release.

[stirringwinds]

WIP

a scene from a fic i’m currently working on set in may 1861, exploring british-american relations during the american civil war. cw for injury mention and real-life historical events. “maría” is mexico. 

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“Still a lying old bastard through and through, aren’t you?” Alfred hisses. “What comes next? Recognition of statehood, of course. Don’t think I’m oblivious to how some of your people are absolutely giddy at the thought of my undoing. Good riddance to the vulgar mob rule that goes by the name of American democracy, etcetera etcetera.”

“Unhand me at once,” Arthur hisses.  “Conduct yourself with some of the dignity I raised you to have, will you?”

“Glad to know you haven’t changed one bit, Lord Father. Good manners rank above morals, honour and any sense of integrity, as always, with you,” Alfred’s smile is dark and bitter, but he releases his grip, flings Arthur’s wrist aside. There’s something like sheer hatred now, in his face, but his voice is low, almost quiet. “And don’t talk about dignity, when you made me this way; you, and all your people’s bullshit. I didn’t have a choice when you claimed me at Jamestown—”

“I made you this way? It’s been almost a hundred years since you've thrown away my name, in case you’ve forgotten,” Arthur cuts in. There’s something simmering and furious boiling up—that Alfred always so easily drew out of him. Yorktown. A shot to the jaw, dead-on. He’d coughed out blood and teeth and bone in front of his men. “Do I make you do anything anymore? Did you not loudly and proudly announce yourself as a naval power? That huge uproar you created in the Far East? Bragging to me how you’d finally matched my feats, dragging another Old World nation out of isolation to rejoin the international community on the threat of war and glories of foreign commerce?”

The fingers of Arthur’s left hand curl inadvertently around his teacup. It’s burning hot. He continues. “And at Jamestown, I saved you. Gave you my name and my protection! When they would have cast you out! Left you to die—”

“Saved? I was a prize! For your ambition!” This now, from Alfred, is a shout, thunderous and furious. “Antonio had María, and you wanted to match that! Because being an insignificant, fuckin’ shitheap island with nothing else to your glorified name was too much for your overblown ego. It never is for you diseased, miserable Old World bastards. And I disappointed you at first, didn’t I? No gold, no riches, just famine and—”

“Ambition? Overblown ego? You certainly aren’t short of it yourself, Alfred,” Arthur sneers. His heart thunders in his breast, and he feels at once hot and icy cold. Oh, he’s just like me. Not at all in appearance—but in the soul. So much like me. All that hungry ambition, and always compulsively cruel in our vulnerability. He levels Alfred with a cool stare. “And speaking of María—” He doesn’t miss the way his eldest son flinches, that exact same way he did as a boy—“you chose to go to war with her, you alone—and now the land you seized from her in your victory has torn you asunder, isn’t that right?”

[a-reader-and-a-writer]

There Never Was a Choice

AI-Less Whumptober 2023: 4. Betrayal, 6. Forced to Hurt Someone Else, 13. Crushed, 14. Field Medicine, 16. Amputation, 29. Forced to Choose Fandom: For All Mankind, Ed Baldwin, f!reader Summary: When an accident on Jamestown Base leaves you trapped, Ed must make an impossible decision. Word Count: 3702 TW: Amputation, Heartbreak, Depression, Begging, Betrayal, Language, Implied Age Gap in Relationship Notes: Thank you to @loverhymeswith for the GIF and ask that inspired this fic! 💖 Part of @ailesswhumptober's event

Takes place between season 2 and season 3

Even before he opened his eyes, Ed heard the screaming. It was a high-pitched keen of agony that was reverberating all around the tight enclosed space. And while he knew he needed to get up—to go investigate—the back of his head was throbbing so fiercely that he didn’t even want to open his eyes for fear of making it somehow worse. All he wanted to do was sink back into the dark numbing abyss and sleep off the pain.

“Get this goddamn thing off me!”

Ed’s eyes snapped open before quickly recoiling from the light. However, he blinked away the pain and forced himself up onto unsteady feet. All desire to succumb to unconsciousness evaporated the moment he heard your agonized voice and realized it had been you screaming this whole time. Instead, a fresh wave of adrenaline and dread pushed him forward towards the crowd of people on the other side of the room.

As the other astronauts noticed him approaching, they silently moved aside, everyone avoiding his gaze. And it was then that he finally saw you. 

You were lying on your back in a pool of blood that was slowly growing larger. At first glance, you seemed relatively fine. There were some small cuts on your face and arm but nothing that would put you in the kind of agony he had heard moments before. But then Ed noticed your left arm disappearing beneath a pile of twisted metal beside you. He had no idea where the debris had come from, however, it had clearly trapped your arm beneath it. 

Your face was pinched in pain but as soon as you saw him standing there, it softened slightly. “Ed,” you moaned, reaching out toward him with your freed arm. He quickly knelt down and took your hand in his. “Are you okay?”

“Am I okay?” he asked incredulously. “You’re the one currently pinned beneath heavy machinery.”

“Yeah, well, it’s obvious I’m not alright. But you hit your head in the explosion and that can’t be good for you, old man.” You were trying to stay upbeat and your usual snarky self, but underneath the forced levity, Ed could hear the pain and fear in your voice. 

“I think we both know there’s not much up there worth damaging,” he joked back, trying to keep the same false lighthearted tone as you were. Squeezing your hand tighter, he added, “But I’ll be alright and so will you. Just wait and we’ll get you outta there.”

You snorted. “Where am I gonna go?” 

But then a shiver of pain ran through your body. Your face twisted into an agonized grimace as you squeezed Ed’s hand so tightly he felt his bones crunch in your grasp. However, he made no move to stop you. Instead, he brushed the hair off your face with his free hand and waited for your pain to fade. 

Once your grip lessened some and you seemed to relax, Ed murmured, “Hey, I’ll be right back, okay? I just need a minute then we’ll get this figured out. Hold on.”

You nod and reluctantly let go of his hand. As he stood up, Ed grabbed the closest person to him and pulled the young man across the room so they were out of your earshot. The man seemed flustered and unsure of why he had been dragged away, but Ed put up a hand before he could speak. 

Glancing down at his suit, Ed saw his patch read “N. Corrado” and after scouring his still foggy brain for a moment, he remembered you mentioned your friend Nick was coming to the moon on the next rotation along with the supplies. Considering this man had just arrived two days earlier and was the only astronaut Ed hadn’t recognized, he was pretty sure he must now be speaking to your friend.

“What happened? Start at the beginning.” Nick opened his mouth but Ed interrupted once more. “I need the quick and concise version.”

And that was what Nick gave him. 

They had been trying to update Jamestown and expand the base with new equipment they had just received from Earth a few days ago. Ed had obviously known that part. But what was news to him was that while trying to install the new air system, one of the oxygen tanks exploded, damaging not only the new system but the equipment around it as well. The team managed to throw up the emergency shields so the base wasn’t in danger of depressurizing or losing air, but there had still been two injuries in the accident.

One of the pieces had been thrown off and hit Ed in the head—hence his headache and unconsciousness—and they had carefully moved him to the other side of the room so he was out of the way while they dealt with the real problem…you.

You had been right next to the tank when it exploded, sending you, the remains of the tank, and several other parts of the base flying across the room. It was a miracle the debris had only landed on your arm and not the rest of you, otherwise they would be planning a funeral rather than an extraction.

Ed took in everything Nick said with a growing dread in his chest. That equipment was incredibly sturdy and heavy to ensure it could withstand the deadly conditions on the moon. If there was a leak or crack in any of it, it could mean the death of the entire base. Because of this, the metal was three times thicker than necessary just to be on the safe side. This was why everything had to be moved with loaders and other transportation equipment—all of which were too large to fit inside the base itself. And since you were currently pinned in one of the inner rooms of the base—

Another one of your wails filled the room as the rest of the crew tried again in vain to remove the debris. Ed buried his head in his hands, wishing there was something he could do to stop your pain. But falling apart wasn’t going to help you. Right now, you needed him to suck it up and be the leader he had been sent on this mission to be. 

So, taking a deep breath, he looked at Nick and asked, “So, what have you been trying to do to free her? Can we just turn the gravity off so we can push it off her?”

Nick shook his head. “We still don’t know how much damage the explosion caused. There’s a chance if we turn the gravity off, we won’t be able to turn it back on.”

Ed scrubbed his hand over his face. “Well, what about the saws we use for moon rocks? Can we cut the metal into smaller pieces and move them off?”

“We tried but it didn’t work on the metal.” But then Nick hesitated and Ed could see he wanted to say something else. 

“What? What is it?” When Nick still didn’t reply, Ed took a step forward and growled in his face, “Corrado, we are not leaving her there to bleed out, so tell me what you are thinking.”

Nick swallowed heavily, then mumbled, “I’m not saying we leave her. Well…Not all of her.”

The meaning of Nick’s words hit Ed like a punch to his chest. Clenching his jaw firmly, he shook his head. “No. No, we’re not doing that.”

Nick bowed his head. “Sir—”

“No! We are not cutting off her goddam arm! Do you understand me?”

“I do,” Nick muttered meekly. But then he took a deep breath, raised his head, and looked Ed straight in the eye. “But I don’t think you understand, Commander. She’s losing blood and we can’t stop that until we can actually get to her arm. And even then, we can only stop the bleeding temporarily with what we have with us here. Which means she has to go home but it takes almost two days to reach Earth in the emergency shuttle. So we need to get her out of here right now if she has any chance of surviving.”

Having finished what he needed to say, Nick withdrew into himself once more as he averted his gaze from Ed’s. Mumbling softly, he added, “I’m sorry, sir. It’s just….she’s a good friend and the best astronaut we have. I understand how horrible this decision is and if there was any other way…” 

Ed sighed. “No, you are right. I was just reacting to the situation without thinking it through. But we don’t have a choice here so we’ll do what we have to in order to save her life…Even if she hates us for it.” Nick squeezed his eyes together tightly, and Ed placed his hand on his shoulder. “It’ll be alright, son. I’ll be the one to tell her. Just…just get the others ready. She’s not gonna take this well.”

Nick nodded and quickly scurried back to where the other crew members were gathered around you. Ed watched him whisper something to the medic whose head shot up and he looked at Ed. Ed nodded his consent before slowly walking over to your side once more.

You smiled as he knelt down beside you, but it was weaker this time. Pain and exhaustion had sapped your will to put on a brave face and seeing that was the final push Ed needed to know he was making the right decision. 

Squeezing your shoulder, he said, “You need medical attention as soon as possible. I was hoping…God, I was hoping we had more time or another way, but you’re losing too much blood so we have to take the only option that will free you immediately.”

“You guys had a plan for getting me outta here just like that and you hadn’t done it? What kind of friends…” Your joke died in your throat as you watched Ed bow his head. It took a moment, but Ed felt you tense beneath his hand as soon as you realized what he was saying. Your eyes grew wide and you shrunk away from Ed as much as your pinned arm would allow. “No…you can’t mean…you can’t do that.”

Ed tried to swallow the lump in his throat. “Believe me, this is the last resort. We can’t move the metal off of you which only leaves us with one option.”

“No, Ed, please! If you take my arm…that’s the end of my career. They’ll never let me in space ever again.”

He shook his head sadly. “It’s better than the end of your life if I don’t. I’m sorry. If there was any other way—”

“No! Don’t! Please! Ed…Ed, if you love me, you won’t do this.”

Ed felt every eye in the station suddenly focused on him. There of course had been rumors about the two of you—the hotshot commander and his brilliant prodigy—but there had never been any proof…until now. For two years, the two of you had managed to keep your relationship a secret but now the cat was out of the bag. However, he didn’t have time to deal with it right at that moment. Once he got you free and home safely, then he could worry about the repercussions of your relationship. Right now all he could focus on was saving your life.

Brushing a loose strand of your hair behind your ear, Ed murmured softly, “It’s because I love you that I have to do this. I’m sorry, sweetheart.” 

He nodded at the medic who had just stepped up next to you. The medic drove the syringe he had prepared while you and Ed were talking into your arm even as you thrashed and begged for him not to. Almost instantly, your body fell limp and your eyes rolled back in your head as the tranquilizer took effect.

For a moment, an eerily silence filled the base. All eyes were still turned to Ed, waiting for him to give the final confirmation that they should proceed. What needed to happen was horrible enough, but the fact Ed had to be the one to make that call, that he had to say the words that would change your life forever, was almost too much to bear. 

Leaning over, he pressed his lips against your sweat-drenched forehead and said a silent prayer to a God he hadn’t believed in for over a decade. Then, turning to the crew, he mumbled, “Do it.”

Unable to watch what happened next, Ed turned his back to everyone and walked to the other side of the room as one of the saws buzzed to life. Even without looking, he could hear the pitch change as the saw began to bite into your flesh and bone. 

Ed had tried to visit you every day since the two of you had landed in the escape pod and you were rushed into surgery but there had been one complication after another. Your body was still used to the conditions on the moon after having been stationed there for the past three months. Even a completely healthy body took time to readjust from that, but yours had been traumatized before reentering the atmosphere only to be then thrown into the immediate chaos of anesthesia, operations, and pain. It was no wonder they almost lost you on the table three times but somehow, mercifully, you pulled through in the end.

It took almost a full day for you to wake up after surgery but when you did and saw what had been done to you, you lost it. According to the report, it took three nurses to keep you from ripping out your IVs and tearing your stitches. It even got to the point where they had to sedate you for your own safety. And Ed had to learn all of this secondhand.

He had been examined to make sure everything was alright from where he hit his head, but then they had forced him from the hospital. Apparently, word had already gotten back to Earth before the escape pod had about his relationship with you and it was determined he should be kept far away from your recovery until there was an investigation to make sure no improprieties had led to the accident. But thankfully, Molly was slipping him any information she could on your well-being.

However, every update he got just broke him more and more. This shouldn’t be happening, not to you. You…who was on the path to lead the human race to Mars and beyond as the most talented and intuitive astronaut he had ever trained. You…who had been dreaming of exploring the vast unknown of space for longer than you could remember. You…who had turned his life around when he was spiraling into his own personal blackhole and rekindled his love for his job. 

You……who he had fallen hopelessly and completely in love with.

It seemed impossible that not so long ago you were both lying naked in his bed, your head resting on his heaving chest as you leisurely ran your fingers through his damp hair. The two of you had talked about what would happen after this mission including the very real possibility of moving in together, consequences be damned. Ed had never seen you so happy or peaceful. 

But now—

Five days after returning to Earth, Ed was finally told you had been taken off the sedatives and he was given permission to visit you. As he walked down the empty halls towards your room, he briefly wondered if Shane had taken his last breath in a place like this. So sterile. So white. So cold and unfeeling. God, he hated hospitals!

Reaching your room, he paused outside your door as he got his first glimpse of you since returning to Earth. 

Your left arm had been severed just below your elbow and layers of gauze covered the end so Ed was unable to assess how well the surgeries had gone. You were hooked up to several machines to help you readjust to being back on Earth as well as ones you needed after your operations. All of it seemed fairly standard and not too concerning. But your eyes…your eyes were a different matter.

Ed had first fallen in love with your eyes. Not the color or anything like that, but the flames blazing within them. It was a fire that burned as brilliantly as the brightest star, born out of determination and drive. And quickly, he had become addicted to your light. 

But now when he looked into your eyes, there was nothing. Just the cold emptiness of space.

However, he tried his best to push that thought aside as he stepped closer. “Hey, sweetheart. You feeling up to a visitor?”

You made no indication that you had heard him. You just continued to stare out the window with that same blank, emotionless gaze. It wasn’t an invitation in the slightest, but you also hadn’t told him to fuck off and leave you alone as Ed had expected, so he slowly stepped into the room.

As he came around the side of the bed and into your line of sight, your eyes shifted slightly to avoid looking at him yet you still didn’t turn your head or make any move to hide from him. Once again, a fairly promising sign.

Ed sat down on the far end of the bed, his hand resting just a or so inch from your blanket-covered legs. He smiled softly as he asked, “How are you? I-I wanted to come see you as soon as you got outta surgery but they said…they said it wasn’t a good time. But, uh, Molly says the doctors think you’ll be able to leave by the end of the week. That’ll be nice, huh? Getting to go home to your own bed?” 

You didn’t move or make any acknowledgment of his words so Ed changed the subject in the hopes of sparking some reaction. “And I know it won’t be the same, but I’ve already talked to Margo and she has a few positions in mind for you once you’re ready to come back to work. Obviously, you’ll need some time but just because you can’t go back to space doesn’t mean your career at NASA is over. You can work in Mission Control, or become one of the instructors, or Margo said you might even qualify for Chief of the Astronaut Office. I guess that would make you my boss, then.” Ed forced a chuckle as he tried to keep the mood upbeat. “It’ll be nice to work together again, even if in different positions. They know about us now—after what you said at Jamestown I couldn’t hide it—but I think it’s gonna be alright. A little slap on the wrist but nothing I can’t handle. So once you come home, we can start on those plans we had. Maybe find a new house or apartment. You know, a fresh start for both of us. I think that’d be good—”

“Please, Ed. Just go.”

Your whispered words washed over him like a freezing rain. “Sweetheart, I—”

“Please. Leave me alone. Go and don’t come back.” You squeezed your eyes together tightly as tears began slowly streaming down your face. “I don’t ever want to see you again.”

Ed felt his world shatter around him. He knew you would be upset that he had made the call to amputate your arm, that it would take time for things to go back to the way they were—if they ever did at all. He had even prepared for the possibility you wouldn’t want to see him right now. But he never imagined you would want to cut him out of your life completely. 

Sliding over so he was seated right next to your uninjured arm, he said, “Listen, I can’t even imagine how you are feeling right now but I’m here for you. I wanna help however I can and I know you’re gonna come back from this. Just don’t cut me out—”

“Ed, if you’re not out of this room in the next 60 seconds, I’m calling security.”

He blinked in utter shock as he finally realized how serious you were. But, surprisingly, what hurt even more than your threatening to have him forced from the room was the fact that your words and expression were still as lifeless and flat as ever. The you he knew—the you he loved—would have been screaming, snapping, hissing with anger as you threw him from your room. But now? It seemed as if your spirit had been left with your arm back on the moon.

“Okay. I’ll go.” Leaning over, he pressed his lips against your forehead and whispered, “But you know how to find me if you change your mind. Anytime day or night, I’ll be there. Just please…don’t give up on us.”

Ed straightened up, sniffing as he wiped the corner of his eye, and forced himself to walk towards the door. It was killing him to leave you alone like this, so broken and numb, but it didn’t seem as if you were giving him any choice. He just hoped, given time, you would relent and allow him back into your life. 

But just as his hand reached for the door handle, you softly whispered from the bed, “There is no us—not anymore. You made sure of that.”

Without turning around, Ed said in a firm, clear voice, “I don’t regret my decision, not as your commander or as the man who loves you. And if we really are done because of what I did, I still wouldn’t change a thing. At the end of the day...there never was a choice. Because I would rather live in a universe where you are alive to hate my guts than one where you loved me but I let you die. And nothing you say will ever make me feel differently.”

And with that, Commander Ed Baldwin walked out of your life—though he still held out the slightest of hope that the door had not locked behind him.

Taglist: @loverhymeswith,  @bewitchedignition, @tavners, @merlehs, @sunshineflowerchild789, @shanimallina87, @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy, @katjnordstrom96, @mayhem24-7forever, @green-socks, @princessmisery666, @deppresseddyslexic

[tiltedsyllogism]

(from this fic ask meme)

I do want to talk about another one, thank you for asking, thank u @trickybonmot

The idea is that, during Ellen's solo stint on the moon immediately post S1, she spends a lot of time talking to Ed on CapCom, and they have a lot of obliquely (very obliquely, these are possibly the two most emotionally constipated people in the whole FAMverse) personal conversations. Because being alone on the moon is tough, and Ed is the only one who really understands that other than Ellen. And Ellen has her own private griefs that she can't(/won't) talk about, and meanwhile he's suffering terribly in a way that is all too public but Ellen can be relied upon not to make him talk about it, which perversely makes him a bit more comfortable with her. Anyway, this is another one in the "once I figure out an actual arc I am totally gonna finish it" bucket!

draft snippet below cut:

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“Hold that thought a minute, Jamestown,” Bill says, and through the monitor Ellen can see him leaning out of frame. A minute later, Bill reappears and pulls his mic back down. “Hey, I’m going to hand you off to Ed, okay?”

“Sure,” says Ellen, surprised – but Bill’s already passing off the headset. Ed settles himself in the chair, and Bill claps him on the shoulder as he leaves.

“Hey there, Jamestown,” Ed says.

“Hey,” Ellen returns. “I thought you were off all day today.” 

“Eh.” Ed makes a face. “The service was only an hour. Everyone else went over to the Outpost after, but I… “

Ed trails off, but Ellen is pretty sure she understands. She and Ed spent a silent, sweaty hour digging a trench in the regolith a few hundred yards from Jamestown to lay Deke’s body to rest. After that, a big stately official ceremony to bury an empty casket seems… strange. Ellen’s pretty sure she wouldn’t want to be there either.

“Yeah,” she says.

[floralcyanide]

𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞 - 𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐚𝐥𝐝𝐰𝐢𝐧

ed baldwin x gn!reader

In which your husband, Ed, returns home to Earth from the Jamestown Base on the Moon after being stranded.

warnings: none, just fluff (:

word count: 525

author’s note: I'm back from my hiatus, except it's for my new hyperfixation, the Apple TV original For All Mankind. if you haven't seen it, I definitely recommend it! especially if you love history, alternate history, space, etc. this is a little fic for a moment that isn't shown between Ed and Karen on the show. reader is gender neutral!

masterlist | add yourself to the taglist here

ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ, ʀᴇᴘʀᴏᴅᴜᴄᴇ, ᴏʀ ᴄʟᴀɪᴍ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀs ᴏɴ ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ, ᴀᴏ3, ᴡᴀᴛᴛᴘᴀᴅ, ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏ ᴡᴇʙsɪᴛᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴘᴇʀᴍɪssɪᴏɴ ᴛᴏ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ɪɴ ᴀɪ ɢᴇɴᴇʀᴀᴛᴏʀs ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴏ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀʀᴛɪғɪᴄɪᴀʟ ɪɴᴛᴇʟʟɪɢᴇɴᴄᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴍᴀʏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ᴛᴏ sᴇʟʟ ғᴏʀ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴏᴡɴ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛɪᴏɴ

Your heart is thumping rapidly in your chest as you stand with the welcoming crew of NASA. Today is your first time seeing your husband, Ed, in over six months. Even in the South, it’s a bitterly cold December, so you pull yourself further into your coat. You cross your arms to keep in some warmth as you giddily bounce on the balls of your heels. Gordo and Danielle are close by, waiting to welcome their friend and colleague home as well. You can’t imagine what they went through together up there, but you know better than to ask.

Ed has to be cleared by NASA before making his first appearance since splashdown, so everyone is waiting as patiently as possible despite the tedious process. The press is everywhere, and you’ve been asked several questions. You never minded answering harmless questions to the media but still kept to yourself quite a bit. You and Ed liked your lives to be kept somewhat private. 

The sound of clapping begins at the start of the crowd to your left, mission control coming out of their pit, and the landing crew to shake hands with Ed. You scan the area, waiting to spot your husband. You finally do, but he doesn’t see you yet. You swear your heart feels like it’s going to explode. Ed finally finishes shaking hands with the crew and isn’t too far from you now. His eyes dart across the crowd, looking for someone- looking for you. His eyes meet yours, and for a second, everything stops.

You start walking over to him, then begin briskly picking up your pace until you’re running over to Ed. You can hear the sounds of cameras popping as you dart to your husband, who looks over to you and opens his arms just in time to catch you mid-run. He spins you around in his arms as you bury your face into his neck. Your arms are wrapped tightly around his neck as you’re afraid to let go as if he’d vanish at any second, like this was all a dream. But it’s not; it’s real, and you can feel Ed’s strong arms supporting you. You take your time breathing in his scent that had long since disappeared from his pillow and clothes at home. You pull away from his neck, tears streaming down your cheeks as you grab ahold of Ed’s face, looking him closely in the eyes for the first time in ages.

“I love you,” you choke out, “so much.”

“I love you too,” Ed grins, leaning in to give you the kiss you’ve been waiting so long for.

Everyone cheers and claps as you and Ed laugh into the kiss. He lets you back down onto the ground, his arm immediately snaking around your waist protectively as he leads both of you over to Gordo, Danielle, and the rest of the astronauts waiting. The entire time Ed speaks to them, you can’t help but beam up at him, watching as his face contorts into a laugh before he hugs Gordo and his other friends. Ed is finally back, and you couldn’t be happier. 

[a-reader-and-a-writer-for-all]

There Never Was a Choice

AI-Less Whumptober 2023: 4. Betrayal, 6. Forced to Hurt Someone Else, 13. Crushed, 14. Field Medicine, 16. Amputation, 29. Forced to Choose Fandom: For All Mankind, Ed Baldwin, f!reader Summary: When an accident on Jamestown Base leaves you trapped, Ed must make an impossible decision. Word Count: 3702 TW: Amputation, Heartbreak, Depression, Begging, Betrayal, Language, Implied Age Gap in Relationship Notes: Thank you to @loverhymeswith for the GIF and ask that inspired this fic! 💖 Part of @ailesswhumptober's event

Takes place between season 2 and season 3

Even before he opened his eyes, Ed heard the screaming. It was a high-pitched keen of agony that was reverberating all around the tight enclosed space. And while he knew he needed to get up—to go investigate—the back of his head was throbbing so fiercely that he didn’t even want to open his eyes for fear of making it somehow worse. All he wanted to do was sink back into the dark numbing abyss and sleep off the pain.

“Get this goddamn thing off me!”

Ed’s eyes snapped open before quickly recoiling from the light. However, he blinked away the pain and forced himself up onto unsteady feet. All desire to succumb to unconsciousness evaporated the moment he heard your agonized voice and realized it had been you screaming this whole time. Instead, a fresh wave of adrenaline and dread pushed him forward towards the crowd of people on the other side of the room.

As the other astronauts noticed him approaching, they silently moved aside, everyone avoiding his gaze. And it was then that he finally saw you. 

You were lying on your back in a pool of blood that was slowly growing larger. At first glance, you seemed relatively fine. There were some small cuts on your face and arm but nothing that would put you in the kind of agony he had heard moments before. But then Ed noticed your left arm disappearing beneath a pile of twisted metal beside you. He had no idea where the debris had come from, however, it had clearly trapped your arm beneath it. 

Your face was pinched in pain but as soon as you saw him standing there, it softened slightly. “Ed,” you moaned, reaching out toward him with your freed arm. He quickly knelt down and took your hand in his. “Are you okay?”

“Am I okay?” he asked incredulously. “You’re the one currently pinned beneath heavy machinery.”

“Yeah, well, it’s obvious I’m not alright. But you hit your head in the explosion and that can’t be good for you, old man.” You were trying to stay upbeat and your usual snarky self, but underneath the forced levity, Ed could hear the pain and fear in your voice. 

“I think we both know there’s not much up there worth damaging,” he joked back, trying to keep the same false lighthearted tone as you were. Squeezing your hand tighter, he added, “But I’ll be alright and so will you. Just wait and we’ll get you outta there.”

You snorted. “Where am I gonna go?” 

But then a shiver of pain ran through your body. Your face twisted into an agonized grimace as you squeezed Ed’s hand so tightly he felt his bones crunch in your grasp. However, he made no move to stop you. Instead, he brushed the hair off your face with his free hand and waited for your pain to fade. 

Once your grip lessened some and you seemed to relax, Ed murmured, “Hey, I’ll be right back, okay? I just need a minute then we’ll get this figured out. Hold on.”

You nod and reluctantly let go of his hand. As he stood up, Ed grabbed the closest person to him and pulled the young man across the room so they were out of your earshot. The man seemed flustered and unsure of why he had been dragged away, but Ed put up a hand before he could speak. 

Glancing down at his suit, Ed saw his patch read “N. Corrado” and after scouring his still foggy brain for a moment, he remembered you mentioned your friend Nick was coming to the moon on the next rotation along with the supplies. Considering this man had just arrived two days earlier and was the only astronaut Ed hadn’t recognized, he was pretty sure he must now be speaking to your friend.

“What happened? Start at the beginning.” Nick opened his mouth but Ed interrupted once more. “I need the quick and concise version.”

And that was what Nick gave him. 

They had been trying to update Jamestown and expand the base with new equipment they had just received from Earth a few days ago. Ed had obviously known that part. But what was news to him was that while trying to install the new air system, one of the oxygen tanks exploded, damaging not only the new system but the equipment around it as well. The team managed to throw up the emergency shields so the base wasn’t in danger of depressurizing or losing air, but there had still been two injuries in the accident.

One of the pieces had been thrown off and hit Ed in the head—hence his headache and unconsciousness—and they had carefully moved him to the other side of the room so he was out of the way while they dealt with the real problem…you.

You had been right next to the tank when it exploded, sending you, the remains of the tank, and several other parts of the base flying across the room. It was a miracle the debris had only landed on your arm and not the rest of you, otherwise they would be planning a funeral rather than an extraction.

Ed took in everything Nick said with a growing dread in his chest. That equipment was incredibly sturdy and heavy to ensure it could withstand the deadly conditions on the moon. If there was a leak or crack in any of it, it could mean the death of the entire base. Because of this, the metal was three times thicker than necessary just to be on the safe side. This was why everything had to be moved with loaders and other transportation equipment—all of which were too large to fit inside the base itself. And since you were currently pinned in one of the inner rooms of the base—

Another one of your wails filled the room as the rest of the crew tried again in vain to remove the debris. Ed buried his head in his hands, wishing there was something he could do to stop your pain. But falling apart wasn’t going to help you. Right now, you needed him to suck it up and be the leader he had been sent on this mission to be. 

So, taking a deep breath, he looked at Nick and asked, “So, what have you been trying to do to free her? Can we just turn the gravity off so we can push it off her?”

Nick shook his head. “We still don’t know how much damage the explosion caused. There’s a chance if we turn the gravity off, we won’t be able to turn it back on.”

Ed scrubbed his hand over his face. “Well, what about the saws we use for moon rocks? Can we cut the metal into smaller pieces and move them off?”

“We tried but it didn’t work on the metal.” But then Nick hesitated and Ed could see he wanted to say something else. 

“What? What is it?” When Nick still didn’t reply, Ed took a step forward and growled in his face, “Corrado, we are not leaving her there to bleed out, so tell me what you are thinking.”

Nick swallowed heavily, then mumbled, “I’m not saying we leave her. Well…Not all of her.”

The meaning of Nick’s words hit Ed like a punch to his chest. Clenching his jaw firmly, he shook his head. “No. No, we’re not doing that.”

Nick bowed his head. “Sir—”

“No! We are not cutting off her goddam arm! Do you understand me?”

“I do,” Nick muttered meekly. But then he took a deep breath, raised his head, and looked Ed straight in the eye. “But I don’t think you understand, Commander. She’s losing blood and we can’t stop that until we can actually get to her arm. And even then, we can only stop the bleeding temporarily with what we have with us here. Which means she has to go home but it takes almost two days to reach Earth in the emergency shuttle. So we need to get her out of here right now if she has any chance of surviving.”

Having finished what he needed to say, Nick withdrew into himself once more as he averted his gaze from Ed’s. Mumbling softly, he added, “I’m sorry, sir. It’s just….she’s a good friend and the best astronaut we have. I understand how horrible this decision is and if there was any other way…” 

Ed sighed. “No, you are right. I was just reacting to the situation without thinking it through. But we don’t have a choice here so we’ll do what we have to in order to save her life…Even if she hates us for it.” Nick squeezed his eyes together tightly, and Ed placed his hand on his shoulder. “It’ll be alright, son. I’ll be the one to tell her. Just…just get the others ready. She’s not gonna take this well.”

Nick nodded and quickly scurried back to where the other crew members were gathered around you. Ed watched him whisper something to the medic whose head shot up and he looked at Ed. Ed nodded his consent before slowly walking over to your side once more.

You smiled as he knelt down beside you, but it was weaker this time. Pain and exhaustion had sapped your will to put on a brave face and seeing that was the final push Ed needed to know he was making the right decision. 

Squeezing your shoulder, he said, “You need medical attention as soon as possible. I was hoping…God, I was hoping we had more time or another way, but you’re losing too much blood so we have to take the only option that will free you immediately.”

“You guys had a plan for getting me outta here just like that and you hadn’t done it? What kind of friends…” Your joke died in your throat as you watched Ed bow his head. It took a moment, but Ed felt you tense beneath his hand as soon as you realized what he was saying. Your eyes grew wide and you shrunk away from Ed as much as your pinned arm would allow. “No…you can’t mean…you can’t do that.”

Ed tried to swallow the lump in his throat. “Believe me, this is the last resort. We can’t move the metal off of you which only leaves us with one option.”

“No, Ed, please! If you take my arm…that’s the end of my career. They’ll never let me in space ever again.”

He shook his head sadly. “It’s better than the end of your life if I don’t. I’m sorry. If there was any other way—”

“No! Don’t! Please! Ed…Ed, if you love me, you won’t do this.”

Ed felt every eye in the station suddenly focused on him. There of course had been rumors about the two of you—the hotshot commander and his brilliant prodigy—but there had never been any proof…until now. For two years, the two of you had managed to keep your relationship a secret but now the cat was out of the bag. However, he didn’t have time to deal with it right at that moment. Once he got you free and home safely, then he could worry about the repercussions of your relationship. Right now all he could focus on was saving your life.

Brushing a loose strand of your hair behind your ear, Ed murmured softly, “It’s because I love you that I have to do this. I’m sorry, sweetheart.” 

He nodded at the medic who had just stepped up next to you. The medic drove the syringe he had prepared while you and Ed were talking into your arm even as you thrashed and begged for him not to. Almost instantly, your body fell limp and your eyes rolled back in your head as the tranquilizer took effect.

For a moment, an eerily silence filled the base. All eyes were still turned to Ed, waiting for him to give the final confirmation that they should proceed. What needed to happen was horrible enough, but the fact Ed had to be the one to make that call, that he had to say the words that would change your life forever, was almost too much to bear. 

Leaning over, he pressed his lips against your sweat-drenched forehead and said a silent prayer to a God he hadn’t believed in for over a decade. Then, turning to the crew, he mumbled, “Do it.”

Unable to watch what happened next, Ed turned his back to everyone and walked to the other side of the room as one of the saws buzzed to life. Even without looking, he could hear the pitch change as the saw began to bite into your flesh and bone. 

Ed had tried to visit you every day since the two of you had landed in the escape pod and you were rushed into surgery but there had been one complication after another. Your body was still used to the conditions on the moon after having been stationed there for the past three months. Even a completely healthy body took time to readjust from that, but yours had been traumatized before reentering the atmosphere only to be then thrown into the immediate chaos of anesthesia, operations, and pain. It was no wonder they almost lost you on the table three times but somehow, mercifully, you pulled through in the end.

It took almost a full day for you to wake up after surgery but when you did and saw what had been done to you, you lost it. According to the report, it took three nurses to keep you from ripping out your IVs and tearing your stitches. It even got to the point where they had to sedate you for your own safety. And Ed had to learn all of this secondhand.

He had been examined to make sure everything was alright from where he hit his head, but then they had forced him from the hospital. Apparently, word had already gotten back to Earth before the escape pod had about his relationship with you and it was determined he should be kept far away from your recovery until there was an investigation to make sure no improprieties had led to the accident. But thankfully, Molly was slipping him any information she could on your well-being.

However, every update he got just broke him more and more. This shouldn’t be happening, not to you. You…who was on the path to lead the human race to Mars and beyond as the most talented and intuitive astronaut he had ever trained. You…who had been dreaming of exploring the vast unknown of space for longer than you could remember. You…who had turned his life around when he was spiraling into his own personal blackhole and rekindled his love for his job. 

You……who he had fallen hopelessly and completely in love with.

It seemed impossible that not so long ago you were both lying naked in his bed, your head resting on his heaving chest as you leisurely ran your fingers through his damp hair. The two of you had talked about what would happen after this mission including the very real possibility of moving in together, consequences be damned. Ed had never seen you so happy or peaceful. 

But now—

Five days after returning to Earth, Ed was finally told you had been taken off the sedatives and he was given permission to visit you. As he walked down the empty halls towards your room, he briefly wondered if Shane had taken his last breath in a place like this. So sterile. So white. So cold and unfeeling. God, he hated hospitals!

Reaching your room, he paused outside your door as he got his first glimpse of you since returning to Earth. 

Your left arm had been severed just below your elbow and layers of gauze covered the end so Ed was unable to assess how well the surgeries had gone. You were hooked up to several machines to help you readjust to being back on Earth as well as ones you needed after your operations. All of it seemed fairly standard and not too concerning. But your eyes…your eyes were a different matter.

Ed had first fallen in love with your eyes. Not the color or anything like that, but the flames blazing within them. It was a fire that burned as brilliantly as the brightest star, born out of determination and drive. And quickly, he had become addicted to your light. 

But now when he looked into your eyes, there was nothing. Just the cold emptiness of space.

However, he tried his best to push that thought aside as he stepped closer. “Hey, sweetheart. You feeling up to a visitor?”

You made no indication that you had heard him. You just continued to stare out the window with that same blank, emotionless gaze. It wasn’t an invitation in the slightest, but you also hadn’t told him to fuck off and leave you alone as Ed had expected, so he slowly stepped into the room.

As he came around the side of the bed and into your line of sight, your eyes shifted slightly to avoid looking at him yet you still didn’t turn your head or make any move to hide from him. Once again, a fairly promising sign.

Ed sat down on the far end of the bed, his hand resting just a or so inch from your blanket-covered legs. He smiled softly as he asked, “How are you? I-I wanted to come see you as soon as you got outta surgery but they said…they said it wasn’t a good time. But, uh, Molly says the doctors think you’ll be able to leave by the end of the week. That’ll be nice, huh? Getting to go home to your own bed?” 

You didn’t move or make any acknowledgment of his words so Ed changed the subject in the hopes of sparking some reaction. “And I know it won’t be the same, but I’ve already talked to Margo and she has a few positions in mind for you once you’re ready to come back to work. Obviously, you’ll need some time but just because you can’t go back to space doesn’t mean your career at NASA is over. You can work in Mission Control, or become one of the instructors, or Margo said you might even qualify for Chief of the Astronaut Office. I guess that would make you my boss, then.” Ed forced a chuckle as he tried to keep the mood upbeat. “It’ll be nice to work together again, even if in different positions. They know about us now—after what you said at Jamestown I couldn’t hide it—but I think it’s gonna be alright. A little slap on the wrist but nothing I can’t handle. So once you come home, we can start on those plans we had. Maybe find a new house or apartment. You know, a fresh start for both of us. I think that’d be good—”

“Please, Ed. Just go.”

Your whispered words washed over him like a freezing rain. “Sweetheart, I—”

“Please. Leave me alone. Go and don’t come back.” You squeezed your eyes together tightly as tears began slowly streaming down your face. “I don’t ever want to see you again.”

Ed felt his world shatter around him. He knew you would be upset that he had made the call to amputate your arm, that it would take time for things to go back to the way they were—if they ever did at all. He had even prepared for the possibility you wouldn’t want to see him right now. But he never imagined you would want to cut him out of your life completely. 

Sliding over so he was seated right next to your uninjured arm, he said, “Listen, I can’t even imagine how you are feeling right now but I’m here for you. I wanna help however I can and I know you’re gonna come back from this. Just don’t cut me out—”

“Ed, if you’re not out of this room in the next 60 seconds, I’m calling security.”

He blinked in utter shock as he finally realized how serious you were. But, surprisingly, what hurt even more than your threatening to have him forced from the room was the fact that your words and expression were still as lifeless and flat as ever. The you he knew—the you he loved—would have been screaming, snapping, hissing with anger as you threw him from your room. But now? It seemed as if your spirit had been left with your arm back on the moon.

“Okay. I’ll go.” Leaning over, he pressed his lips against your forehead and whispered, “But you know how to find me if you change your mind. Anytime day or night, I’ll be there. Just please…don’t give up on us.”

Ed straightened up, sniffing as he wiped the corner of his eye, and forced himself to walk towards the door. It was killing him to leave you alone like this, so broken and numb, but it didn’t seem as if you were giving him any choice. He just hoped, given time, you would relent and allow him back into your life. 

But just as his hand reached for the door handle, you softly whispered from the bed, “There is no us—not anymore. You made sure of that.”

Without turning around, Ed said in a firm, clear voice, “I don’t regret my decision, not as your commander or as the man who loves you. And if we really are done because of what I did, I still wouldn’t change a thing. At the end of the day...there never was a choice. Because I would rather live in a universe where you are alive to hate my guts than one where you loved me but I let you die. And nothing you say will ever make me feel differently.”

And with that, Commander Ed Baldwin walked out of your life—though he still held out the slightest of hope that the door had not locked behind him.

[rainbowsconnect]

Awkward notice that I am offering fic commissions to cover my cat's last vet expenses. I had Baby Cat for 8 years and I loved him very much. His rapid progression of illness and death was very sad and I am asking for a little help covering the expenses so I can focus on grieving.

As said above, if you donate $20 or more, I'll write you a 2,000 to 2,500 word fic. If you donate $10 or more, I'll write you a 1,000 to 1,500 word fic. I am offering fic for muppets, avatar: the last airbender, trigun, star wars or stranger things fandoms upfront. Please let me know if you are interested in other fandoms and we can discuss. After you donate, please send me a private message and we can talk about your specific request.

I have never done this before so it feels really odd but genuinely: any amount helps a lot and means the world to me. You don't have to give anything and I appreciate anyone just reading this. Here is my ko fi if you are interested. Thanks so much ❤️

[thief-of-eggs]

HI Ok this is probably going to sound completely unhinged but bear with me: I have this issue where I have lots of ideas (usually very vague ones) for stories that I love to imagine writing—but when I actually get around to writing them I just stare at a blank page; or I have no idea for plot beyond some abstract concepts—I’ve been thinking a lot about Snowjanus recently, and—this is the unhinged part—one of my main interests is early American history and there was this guy named William Strachey who was the secretary of Jamestown, and also an attempted poet, and when I read TBOSAS I realized that I recognized the name Sejanus from one of his poems VPON SEIANVS, which was prefaced to Ben Johnson’s Seianus His Fall,—and it all just works so nicely together since they were contemporaries of Shakespeare (AND Seianus His Fall was performed at the Globe, and Strachey’s story of being shipwrecked very likely inspired The Tempest) who of course wrote The Tragedie of Coriolanus—now thematically or narratively I have no idea how these things would all fit together—I have a lot of other random ideas like that, or vibes but nothing concrete—this is basically a long-winded way of asking if you had any advice on how to go from “man this idea sure would be neat” to an actual story? (I’m obsessed with your writing btw <3)

Hi hi!!! I am happy to help!! Also I understand exactly what you mean- I only hope that my advice actually makes sense!!!

Ok so- for me personally, when it comes to getting rough ideas out onto a page, I have a couple different methods I follow:

- The first is, if I already have parts of a whole scene in mind, but I don’t know the beginning/ending, I often just write the part that I know. So if that means writing the climax for a story, even though I have no idea how I’ll get the plot there? Oh well. At least the idea is out, and often times that will inspire me more.

- If I have a hazy idea but no plot yet, I like to write out little bullet points. Sometimes bullet points as simple as: (using my fic Thoughts of you Consume as an example)

- Coryo and Sejanus begin to have hate sex

- Coryo starts to feel something more

- Sejanus pulls away. Coryo chases after

Like! Those bullet points give me NOTHING. But they also give me a baseline to begin working off of, and from there I can begin to envision where I want it to go. I’ll expand on each bullet point and add subcategories, which only helps make the plot outline grow

- Another method that I sometimes use is to just spitball ideas. I’ll set a timer sometimes, or just devote myself to the task, and will just write out any ideas that come to mind with a particular prompt, and then I take it from there. Example for the prompt “snowjanus first kiss”, I may write out stuff like this:

- Coryo kisses Sejanus after the arena scene, his emotions a whirl

- Sejanus kisses Coryo on the train, too damn happy to see him

- Their first kiss is a dare, and Coryo wont back down

- Sejanus kisses Coryo after a party, when they’re both mildy drunk and confused. Sejanus forgets it, but Coryo never does.

Then from there, I’ll examine each little start and see what I like best. In this scenario, I really like the last one (shoot now I’ll have to turn that into a fic lolol) so my next step would be to outline the plot. When does the party take place? How long does Coryo hold the knowledge in? Does he ever tell Sejanus?

And most importantly- how do I want the story to end? With them together? With Sejanus hanging? With the start of the 10th hunger games?

- One final method I do is daydreaming. I’ll put on a playlist inspired by the pairing and see where it takes me (thoughts of you consume was actually inspired by 2 songs- War of Hearts, and Howl by Florence + the machine). I’ll let my mind make whatever connections it wants to make, and I’ll jot down ideas as they come!

Sorry for the overly complex answer- I guess at the end of the day, I really have no tried and true method. It all depends on how inspired I am.

But I hope one of these methods can be useful to you!! The biggest thing I think is to not be afraid of writing stuff that you may end up discarding. If a connection doesn’t work, if a plot point doesn’t fit- it’s ok to scrap it!! It sucks to lose time, but if it doesn’t fit, it doesn’t fit.

I’d definitely recommend that you write out all the ways that Snowjanus connects to the historical elements that you said! Determine if you want to write some sort of crossover set in old times, or if you want to bring historical figure’s personality traits onto the characters of Sejanus and Coriolanus.

So yeah! I hope this helps, and feel free to reach out with any other questions!!! Sorry, my brain is quite a mess lol, but best of luck to you!!

[gordopickett]

And If It’s Not Okay... (For All Mankind post-s2 fix-it fic)

*** Chapter 39 is up! ***

Chapter Title: Adapting

Chapter Summary: Gordo & Tracy discuss their friends, Sam, and their own relationship.

*******

“Hey,” Tracy said when Gordo entered the living room. “How were drinks with Ed?”

“Uh,” Gordo uttered. He walked over to the couch and sat down to her left. “We didn’t get to that.”

Tracy furrowed her brow. “I thought you guys were planning to go out for drinks.”

Gordo nodded. “We were, but…” He trailed off, shrugging a shoulder.

Tracy watched him for a moment before saying, “Well, don’t keep me in suspense. What happened?”

Gordo sighed softly. “We went for a walk instead. He’s…” Gordo shook his head. “He’s not in a good place right now.”

“Oh,” Tracy uttered. “Because of Karen?”

Gordo nodded. “He’s afraid she’s going to leave him.”

“Shouldn’t he be the one to leave her?” Tracy asked. “She’s the one who cheated, after all.”

“I don’t know,” Gordo said. “I guess. But he doesn’t want that. He wants their marriage to work, and he’s afraid that she doesn’t.”

“She does,” Tracy said.

Gordo looked at her curiously. “How do you know that?”

“Because I talked to her today. Karen.”

Gordo lifted his eyebrows in surprise. Tracy hadn’t said much to him about Karen or how she felt about the whole situation between her and Danny. Gordo figured she was just taking some time to process what had happened and wrap her head around it. He hadn’t expected her to talk to Karen so soon.

“How did that go?” Gordo asked, watching her closely.

Tracy shrugged. “Weird.”

“Weird, how?”

“Because part of me is really upset about the whole thing. About what she did with Danny. I know our boy is a man now, but it’s just—I couldn’t understand why Karen would do that with him.”

“Yeah,” Gordo whispered. He hadn’t been able to understand it either. But he had been more concerned about Danny and how he was coping with Karen’s rejection than why Karen had done what she did.

“Another part of me sort of…” Tracy trailed off, shaking her head.

“Sort of, what?”

“Understands,” Tracy finished.

Gordo furrowed his brow. “Really?”

“Don’t get me wrong,” Tracy said. “I’m pissed about the whole thing. But I get her reasoning. It wasn’t about Danny.”

“What was it about?”

“Karen. And Ed, somewhat.”

“Okay,” Gordo said, dragging out the sound a bit. He didn’t understand, but he waited to let her explain.

“She feels like her entire life has revolved around Ed and his career. Still revolves around Ed and his career. She’s never really had anything of her own, away from him. Something she can get excited about on her own.”

“What about the bar?”

“It’s an astronaut bar,” Tracy reminded him.

“Right.”

“It’s still very central to Ed’s world. And she just feels sort of...stuck, I guess. That’s what I took from her explanation.”

Gordo nodded slowly. He understood that feeling well. After he and Tracy had gotten divorced, that was exactly how he had felt. Stuck. And then when she had gotten remarried, that had pushed him over the edge. He had realized just how alone he was – with Tracy starting her new life with Sam, and his kids growing up and having their own lives away from home. Gordo had been ground-bound for nearly a decade, had drown himself in the bottle, and had spiraled deeper and deeper into depression.

He had told Ed something similar that night on the road months earlier. He had told Ed that he was stuck, that the past wouldn’t let him go, that he had left something up at Jamestown, and that he felt like he didn’t exist anymore.

“I guess she’s been unhappy for a while,” Tracy continued. “So, when Danny showed interest in her, it lit some kind of spark for her.” Tracy shrugged. “Not because of Danny himself. But because his interest made her feel good about herself again. Something she hadn’t felt in a long time, apparently.”

“So, it wasn’t about Danny?”

Tracy shook her head. “But I hate that she used him that way.”

“Yeah,” Gordo agreed quietly, picturing how upset Danny had looked during their talks about what had happened and how Karen didn’t feel the same way about him.

“I don’t think she meant to use him that way. She said she didn’t realize how strong Danny’s feelings for her were until afterwards.”

Gordo nodded. He looked at Tracy again, studying her face. She looked back at him.

“How are you feeling about it?” Gordo asked. “I mean, she’s your friend. Or...was.”

“Yeah,” Tracy uttered. “She was. Maybe still is. I don’t know yet. I’m still trying to process. It’s a lot.”

“It is.”

“I guess what I’m most upset about is the fact that Danny got hurt in all of it.”

Gordo nodded his agreement.

“But from what she told me, she never meant for that to happen. According to her, she didn’t even know how he felt about her. She thought that he had gone into it with the same mindset that she had, and then she found out after the fact that he had these strong feelings for her.”

“Right.”

“Maybe I can forgive her someday,” Tracy said. “I don’t know.”

“Yeah,” Gordo said, watching her closely. He hated that she was upset. That she and her best friend were on the outs. He knew how that was. Gordo and Ed had had their fair share of arguments and fights over the years, but neither had ever betrayed the other quite like Karen had done to Tracy. He knew something like that would be difficult to forgive.

“So, tell me about your night,” Tracy said. “Sorry. I kind of hijacked the conversation.”

“It’s all right,” Gordo said with a small smile. “Ed’s just upset about how things are going with Karen. I guess she is planning to go to business school or something. He’s afraid she’s just going to up and leave him.”

“Oh,” Tracy said. “Yeah. She mentioned something about that. About going back to school.”

Gordo nodded. “And with Kelly off to Annapolis next year, he’s afraid he’s going to be alone.”

“He won’t be alone,” Tracy said. “Kelly will still come back home to visit.”

“Of course she will,” Gordo said. “But I get it.” He paused. “I’ve been through the same thing.”

Tracy looked at him, furrowing her brow. “What do you mean?”

Gordo offered a small, wry smile. “After our divorce, and then when Danny was gone during his first year at the Naval Academy.” He shook his head. “Jimmy was still here, but I couldn’t help but think about what things would be like once he started college. Especially if it was out of state.”

Tracy nodded her understanding.

“I didn’t have a purpose of my own – I hadn’t been on a mission in nearly ten years – and I just felt kind of lost and lonely.”

Tracy frowned, softly saying, “I’m sorry, Gordo.”

He shook his head. “I brought most of it on myself.”

“Still,” Tracy said. “That doesn’t mean I’m happy that you were so upset.”

He smirked. “Well, I’m glad to hear that.”

She chuckled softly. Then, her expression turned more serious again as she asked, “How are you doing with it now?”

“I’m okay,” Gordo said, and he meant it. “Going back to the moon – even as crazy and terrifying as that turned out – gave me a renewed sense of purpose. I feel more like my old self again. Yeah, I miss Danny when he’s gone. And I’ll miss Jimmy too, if he decides to go away for school. But I feel like I can handle it now.”

“You were always good at adapting to new and changing situations,” she said with a small smile. “I’m glad to see you’ve gotten that back.”

“Thanks,” Gordo said. “Me too.”

She reached out and took his right hand with her left, holding it on the couch cushion between them. He looked down at their intertwined fingers, noticing that her wedding ring was missing. His heart leapt for a moment. Of course, he already knew that Tracy and Sam had split up, but something about her no longer wearing her wedding ring made it feel more official to Gordo.

He took a deep breath and then looked up at Tracy, offering a small smile. After a few quiet moments, he said, “Speaking of new and changing situations…”

Tracy lifted her eyebrows in question.

Gordo lowered his gaze to their hands. He gently rubbed his thumb over her bare ring finger.

“Oh,” Tracy uttered. “Yeah.”

Gordo waited for her to continue, but she didn’t. Softly, he asked, “Do you want to talk about it?”

She shrugged a shoulder, and he thought she was going to say no.

“I just figured I ought to give it back to him,” she said instead.

“But it’s yours, right?” Gordo said. “I mean, when you and I got divorced, you kept your ring.”

“That’s different.”

“Why?” Gordo asked gently. He was glad to hear it. Glad to know that she felt differently about him than she did Sam.

“Because you and I were married forever. Sam and I have only been married for about a minute and a half.”

“Mm. True. But it’s still yours.”

“It’s fine. I don’t mind giving it back.”

“Wait,” Gordo said. “Did he ask you to?”

“No. He wouldn’t do that. I just figured…” She trailed off and sighed, shaking her head.

“What?”

“I don’t know. You and I—We were married for so long. We had these boys together. We had a life together for a really long time.” She paused before adding, “Sam and I…” She looked at Gordo then. “It’s already over before it ever really started. I feel like this marriage between him and me—We never got a chance to really live it.”

Gordo nodded his understanding.

“You and me—We gave our marriage a real shot. Even after everything, we still tried.”

“Yeah,” Gordo whispered, eyes locked on Tracy’s.

“That’s not the case with me and Sam.”

“I get it,” Gordo said.

“I mean,” Tracy began, humor entering her voice. “It’s not that I wouldn’t want the ring. It’s gorgeous.”

“And massive,” Gordo said with a small smirk. “I’m surprised you could even lift your hand with that thing on it.”

Tracy chuckled. “Yeah, it was pretty big.”

“Did you pick it out?” Gordo asked.

“No. Sam did. I didn’t even know he was going to propose.”

“Right,” Gordo uttered. He recalled having found out about the proposal while watching Tracy’s talk show appearance months earlier. “So, if you had picked out a ring yourself…”

Tracy held his gaze for a long moment. “You already know what it would have been.”

Gordo smiled. “I do,” he said softly. “I know you very well.”

Tracy nodded. “And I know you.”

“Do you still have it?” Gordo asked. “Your first wedding ring.”

The corners of Tracy’s mouth turned upwards. “Do you still have yours?”

“Of course.” Gordo smiled. “It’s in the drawer beside my bed.”

“Jewelry box on my dresser,” Tracy said.

“Until Sam finds it and throws it out or sells it.”

“He wouldn’t do that,” Tracy said. “He’ll leave my stuff as it is until I go get it.”

“When will that be?” Gordo asked curiously.

“Not sure. Maybe this weekend. I don’t know. It feels too soon, but I really do need some of my stuff.”

Gordo nodded. “Well, let me know if I can help.”

“Thanks, Gordo,” Tracy said with a small smile as she squeezed his hand.

“You’re welcome.” He paused before changing subjects. “And in other new and changing situations,” he said.

Tracy eyed him with a mix of curiosity and suspicion. “What now?”

He smiled. “Well, I sort of invited Ed and Kelly to stay here for a while.”

“Oh,” she said, surprise in her voice as though that wasn’t what she had been expecting him to say. “Okay.”

“He said he’ll think about it. But if they do come, it’s going to be kind of tight quarters, and I, uh—I guess I wanted to ask you how you felt about bunking with me again so that they can have Danny’s room.”

“Oh,” Tracy uttered again. “Do you think they’re going to be okay sleeping in Danny’s room with all this drama going on between him and Karen?”

Gordo shrugged. “I hadn’t really thought about that. Maybe we could have Jimmy move into Danny’s room instead, and Ed or Kelly could take Jimmy’s.”

“Oh, he’s going to love that,” Tracy said, her words laced with sarcasm.

“He’ll be okay,” Gordo said. He knew Jimmy wouldn’t be thrilled about moving out of his bedroom, but Gordo knew he would adapt as well. “But I understand if it’s weird for you,” he added, referring to Tracy bunking with him again. “I can, I don’t know, get an air mattress or something and sleep on the floor.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Tracy shook her head. “I’ve slept in your bed before. It’s not a big deal.”

He smiled. “Okay.”

“This was your plan wasn’t it?” she asked with a teasing smirk. “To invite Ed and Kelly to stay here so that you and I would have to share a bed again.”

Gordo chuckled. “No, but that would have been a good plan.”

Tracy laughed and squeezed his hand.

[arrthurpendragon]

@megraen - I saw your fic and made you a little something. Hope you like it!

[america-is-my-muse]

America's Family Explained [Countryhumans]

Fitting that I start off what I hope will be a little series with headcanons about my favorite countryhuman. As biased as I may be, I also just know the most about US history, so it seemed like the place to start. I've tried to combine actual history with sensical storytelling, because the most by-the-book interpretation doesn't always line up with what makes sense for a character backstory and I've taken some liberties in those cases. I will also be explaining the reason behind my headcanons in case people want to know how I got from A to B, not just dropping them and running

Also, disclaimer that this is MY PERSONAL headcanon/AU. You are free to agree with it or not, but don't leave hate telling me why I'm wrong, just move on because there's no established cannon in this fandom and we can all do whatever we want provided it's not wildly offensive.

Part I: Birthday

Establishing America's birthday seems like a silly thing to do, both because most people are going to immediately assume it's July 4th, 1776 and because it seems such a trivial thing to headcanon unless you're specifically setting out to write a fic celebrating his birthday.

Establishing his birthday, however, is actually really important to everything else I'm going to talk about. First of all, 1776 can't be America's birth year because that would mean that a) he just popped into existence fully formed b) he would miss all of the influential American Revolution events that took place before that and c) it doesn't make sense with the allegory of teenage America rebelling against his overbearing father Britain that I like so much. Instead, I picked the year 1607, because it is the year Jamestown, the first permanent British colony in the Americas, was established. Technically, his birthday should be May 13th, but I like having it on July 4th better, so his birthday is July 4th, 1607.

Part II: Parents

America's parents are Kingdom of France and Britain (The modern UK). This is a debated topic within the fandom from what I've seen, because the common idea that America's parents are France and Britain just doesn't really make historical sense, and frankly I agree.

As for France, modern France is technically the fifth Republic, which didn't come into existence until 1981, but even if you wanted to group all the iterations of French democracy together into a single personification (I don't, but theoretically), that still puts her 18th birthday in 1791 (countries turn 18 when they become independent), meaning it's really unlikely she would have been around and of any reasonable age to bear children in 1607 without any good reason to, therefor I have made Kingdom of France (her grandmother) the mother of America and his full siblings.

The reason this doesn't apply to Britain is because I'm considering the 1535 union of England and Whales as the beginning of British rule rather than the 1707 union of England and Scotland, which is when the name Great Britain formally began to be used. This means he is around to father America in 1607.

Obviously, France and Britain were at odds during this period, but they had entered into an arranged marriage when they were younger and were obligated to have children out of it, thus America and his sibs exist without breaking the universe and having this version of France and Britain actually like each other.

Obviously, there are a couple other candidates for America's parents that I could have used. Technically, Spain makes a lot of sense, but the Spanish Empire is male and married to Kingdom of Portugal in my AU, and Britain as the father is non-negotiable to me, so this isn't an option. I know some people headcanon Native America as his mother, but I feel like combining the entire scope of native culture/language/etc. into a single personification doesn't really make much sense and Kingdom of France works better story/wise (though for what it's worth the different Native American tribes/nations/confederations do have personifications).

Part III: Family

America has a lot of half-siblings between all the British and French colonies, so I'll only be focusing on his full siblings. Canada and Australia are the other two full sovereign nations in this group, Canada for obvious reasons, and Australia because Dutch Empire (the other European candidate for his parent) is also male in my AU, so they needed a mom and Kingdom of France makes the most sense due to being Britain's wife, even though there's no real French colonial history there. I don't have an aboriginal tribe as their mom for the same reason I don't have Native America as America's mom. New Zealand was also raised alongside the four of them, though her mom is actually Maori.

Besides that, America also has two twins--Confederate and Virginia (who was born Jamestown Colony)-- and the other 12 original colonies + the states they would eventually split into are his younger siblings.

The states are obviously America's children, but they're a mix of biological and adopted, and a couple more are at least partial siblings (Louisiana and Washington, for example) by blood, but they all view him as a father figure so I'm going to avoid the minutia in this post.

Ending thoughts

I think I'm going to work my way through the British/French family next for this little headcanon series, but I'll probably keep going until I stop having fun or don't have anything else to say. I'll eventually probably talk about character arcs & histories, but I'm trying to ease into this and not promise too much because I have a bad track record for putting a lot of pressure on myself over a fandom project and then quitting it entirely.

With that being said, feel free to drop and ask if you want to know my HCs about a specific country or some more elaboration on something I mentioned here. I have a pretty developed AU in my head/in google docs so there's a good chance I'll have something to say. No promises if you ask about something I don't really know anything about. I'm absolutely in favor of talking about niche subjects and less popular countries within this fandom, but that does mean I would have to do the research, and I can't promise to have the time or energy for that.

[ddagent]

I’m going to prompt B3 & E1 from the fic menu, please and thank you 😊

Margo/Sergei | Canon Divergence | FR15 | 2,732 words     Margo Madison is stopped from attending the '73 IAC in the USSR. She tries to get a message to her friend, and long-time IAC attendee, Sergei Nikulov. Sequel to 'Red Moon'. Thank you for requesting a fic from my fanfic menu challenge! You ordered B3: (IAC '66) Margo sends Sergei a housewarming card before Jamestown base sets down Happy reading!

Margo Madison didn't take much vacation time. There was nowhere, really, that she wanted to go. She could read travel guides with perfectly shot pictures and a heavy abuse of adjectives. She could visit a poorly air-conditioned travel agent on a Houston street where a woman with brightly painted nails would try and sell Margo on a singles cruise to the Bahamas. Margo could do all of that. But it was difficult to get excited about the wonders of Earth when every single day she got to look at live footage of the Moon. The stars. And be part of the machine putting people up into space. So, yeah, Margo didn't really see the need to take her vacation time.

With one exception.

This year, the IAC conference would be in Baku. It was one whole week, in early October, where Margo could attend panels amongst her colleagues and discuss new innovations in the business of space. Ever since his departure, Margo had not been guaranteed a ticket. So, she'd used her vacation time for that week, spent the money she saved on rent on a hotel room, and let a delighted Soviet engineer buy her drinks. This would be her and Sergei's eighth IAC together. They'd met in Spain, wagered for the Moon in New York. Got drunk and flirty over a piano in Argentina. Barely saw each other in Germany and was glued at the hip in Belgium. Last year, in Austria, Sergei had taken part in his first panel. Margo had been front row – to challenge his findings, of course.

Four more weeks. Margo couldn't wait.

Continue Reading at AO3

[agent-starbuck]

Jamestown, North Dakota

{REPOST} My first challenge! This fic holds a special place in my heart because I used to spend my summers in ND. I had to do some research on Sioux indian folklore, so I hope it's accurate enough. Thanks to @viceversawrites for beta'ing it and creating this challenge!

Mulder comforts Scully with a surprise picnic under the stars after a particularly difficult case in North Dakota.

_____________________________

He's been at the Stutsman County Sheriff's Office since seven o'clock this morning, sifting through piles of evidence and paperwork and following up on leads that have gotten him nothing. Nowhere. 

The dizzying flicker of overhead lights, along with the smell of old coffee and cigarettes, makes his head throb. He rubs incessantly at his temples with the pads of his fingers, willing the pain to subside.

He's not surprised that it doesn't.

He closes his eyes, wincing, as pictures of young girls' mutilated bodies burn into his retinas like a phosphorescent afterimage. He'll have to remember not to sleep tonight. 

The familiar ring of his cell phone pierces through his frazzled brain, and he scrambles across the desk to grab it, spilling a cup of water on his lap in the process.

"Mul-- shit. Mulder," he answers as he dabs at the wet spot with an old napkin that had been hanging around since lunch earlier.

"Mulder, are you ready to come get me? It's nearly nine o'clock. I feel like I've been at this for days, and I don't know if I can stomach another autopsy tonight."

Guilt prickles at his conscience like a cold, jarring rain. He feels like such an ass. Here he was feeling sorry for himself because he was stuck examining those grisly photos strewn across his makeshift desk all day, when it was Scully who had to face the horrors up close and personal. 

He doesn't know how she does it, case after case. 

"Of course," he replies. "Lemme just wrap this up, and I'll be there in ten."

His egress is swift. He stops only to stuff folders into his briefcase and clean up his mess before grabbing his jacket, and pushing his way through heavy steel doors to freedom. A warm, gentle breeze greets him on the other side, seeping into his bones and calming his weary soul.

It's dusk, now. 

Bands of colorful light stubbornly cling to the remnants of sunshine as they disappear behind the horizon-- caught in limbo between earth and sky-- waiting their turn to be swallowed by the darkness. Day and night locked in an endless battle for time and space.

The sky seems so much bigger in North Dakota. More so than any other state he's been to. Its awe-inspiring presence towers over everything, claiming dominion over the land and making anything tethered to the earth seem infinitesimally small. 

That's why he likes it out here. Back home, people call him a weirdo for always staring at the heavens. Here, it's impossible not to.

Here, the heavens stare at you. 

•••••

The radio station spits and crackles half a country song through the speakers before Scully reaches to turn it off with a sigh, bathing the car in empty silence. The cabin of the car vibrates as the tires beat a path through dusty, gravel backroads to their motel outside town.

They've had to wash the car three times since arriving here.

"You wanna eat at that truck stop diner before we reach the motel? The one with the really good curly fries?" He sends the question out into the void, his stomach growling for attention.

"No. I just want a hot bath and a bed." 

He steals a glance in her direction. Her wistful gaze is fixed upon the slideshow flicker of moonlit prairieland streaming past her window. She seems upset. He thinks he knows why.

"Look, Scully… this case. I know it's hard. I know what you're going through."

"Do you, Mulder?" she quips. "Do you, really?" She's turned to look at him now, her pointed stare cutting through him like a stone-sharp arrow.

"I think so," he says hesitantly. "This is probably one of the worst cases we've been on."

"Yeah…" she scoffs then looks away, as if composing her thoughts, before continuing.

"I spent my entire day cutting open the corpses of young, innocent girls whose families may never get the privilege of knowing or understanding what happened to them," she starts, her voice straining against the overwhelming emotion bleeding through.

"I had to speak with the families-- mothers and fathers and elder tribal leaders-- to convince them I needed to conduct these autopsies to find answers. That there was no other way," her voice begins to waver, and his stomach clinches at the sound of her holding back tears. "And I tried to do it with dignity, Mulder. I did."

He represses the urge to reach over and gather her small hand in his, unsure if now is the right time, if she'd at all be receptive to it. His fingers almost make the journey across the console before her voice startles them back.

"I fought this entire day with local law enforcement and coroners who treated these victims and their families like castaways. Who didn't think they warranted the kind of comprehensive investigation needed to solve this case because they lived on an indian reservation. Because they weren't white."

"I'm so sorry, Scully," he whispers, waging an internal struggle within himself, deciding whether or not to stop the car, to pull her into his arms, before ultimately choosing against it. They're almost at the motel. And he doesn't trust himself not to let things get too far. 

"I had no idea you had to go through that today. If I'd known..."

"There wasn't anything that you could've done, Mulder," she says defeatedly. "I guess… I'm just tired. I really just want to go to bed and forget it."

He understands, he does. He wants the same. Except he can't face that empty motel room of his alone. 

They pull into the parking lot and he kills the engine. The vibrations from their rough journey still linger throughout his body, his ears buzzing in the silence, and he waits.

"You, um, wanna come in-- over? To my room?" His voice is fraught with nervous anticipation-- a teenager asking his crush to prom.

"Mulder-- I… I don't think it's a good idea. We're on a case, and we decided to stay in our respective rooms. Remember?"

He remembers. His selective memory is just having a difficult time remembering why he'd agreed to it. Especially now when all he wants to do is gather her in his arms and make her forget this day ever happened. 

He wants to forget.

Continue...