#like this is the worst i’ve felt since september and the fact it’s So sudden is likw

[the-becom1ng]

i feel like im going insane like i feel like i woke up one day and suddenly realized my friends didn’t want me around and then i woke up again and realized that wasn’t true and it was some kind of nightmare but then it actually was true. i don’t know i don’t fucking understand what’s happening

[valentineforlemonandcherry]

Back to School - Part 2. Peter Pettigrew

You’re back for another term. The September air is crisp, and you swear the sun’s sheen is a deeper gold than it was yesterday. A blast of noise – and smoke fills the train station. The Hogwarts train pulls into the station. You begin to step aboard when:

[No Smut.] [Slight Mention of Minor Injury.]

*Please do not repost or copy my work without my permission. Thank You!

“Ah!”

You fell backwards, and as you did, you felt someone trip over you – and then, “Oh, no!” – You squeezed your eyes shut and covered your face with your hands, waiting for someone to to fall on top of you.

Only – you could feel someone’s warm, soft breath brush across the back of your hands. You could also feel warmth around your hips… But no one came crashing into you. You slowly parted your fingers just enough to be able to peek through them and opened your eyes.

Peter Pettigrew had knocked into you and then, in trying to catch you, had promptly tripped over you. He’d cried out, “Oh, no!”, but he had managed to get his hands out in time to catch himself before he fell completely onto you. He’d still landed on top of you, and that warmth you were feeling around your hips were his thighs, which had slid open and were now pressing against your hips. His knees were touching the ground on either side of you. His hands were out on either side of your head, for you had completely fallen over and were now lying on your back on the ground. His face was a mere foot from yours, and as he was panting from the sudden exercise, you were feeling his little puffs drift over your hands.

“Are you – Are you okay?” Peter asked. His eyes were quite wide, as he stared down at you, dazed at how quickly this had all happened.

“Um…yes,” you murmured. Only, Peter couldn’t hear you since your hands were still covering your face.

“Oh, gosh,” he said, with his mind immediately going to the worst-case scenarios. “I’ve hurt you bad, haven’t I? I’ve gone and killed you. First day of term, I’ve gone and killed a woman.”

“What? No… I’m not dead,” you said, surprised.

Peter paused. “Are you – Is there blood coming out of your mouth?”

You shook your head.

“Then, uh, may I see your face?” Peter asked. “I just want to check that you’re really okay. After all it was all my fault – I was the clumsy one – I didn’t – It wasn’t intentional - ”

“Oh…” You hadn’t realized that you still had your hands over your face. You lowered your hands.

Peter blinked. Yeah, she seems all right. Her face is a bit flushed – I mean, her cheeks are kind-of pink. But I don’t think it’s because she’s hurt. And her eyes are sort-of bright, but, well, I just knocked into her, she was probably quite surprised. And her lips – she’s not bleeding, which is good. Her mouth looks rather… soft. All warm and like. A bit heart-shaped. But oh – her eyes are getting bigger – oh, oh, oh – what’s the matter?

At the same exact time, you and Peter blurted out, “What’s the matter?”

Peter hadn’t realized that he was staring. Of course, the longer he gazed at you for, the more you began to think that in fact, maybe you were hurt and maybe your mouth was bleeding and you simply couldn’t tell.

“Oh, nothing,” Peter said quickly, realizing what was happening. “I was just checking you over, like I said. You’re fine, completely fine. I’m so sorry I bumped into you. I’ll be on my way now.” He hastily got off of you.

You started to sit up, but you felt a bit dizzy, after being knocked to the ground and lying on it for so long.

Peter paused. “Well, here.” He held out his hand to you.

That was when you realized –

“Oh, you’re hurt…”

“Hm?”

You got up without his help. Then, you gently grasped his wrist and made him look at his hand.

“You’ve scuffed your hands up,” you told him.

Sure enough, his palms were scratched-up.

“Hold on,” you said. You rummaged in your small side pouch and pulled out a healing balm.

Peter cocked his head at you. “Do you always carry that around?”

You nodded. “I get scrapes and bumps a lot,” you confessed, a bit embarrassed. “I’m a bit clumsy. In fact, I’m not sure it was your fault that you bumped into me. It was probably mine. I was staring at the puffs of smoke from the train. I thought they looked rather – rather cute and I suppose I was daydreaming…”

As you spoke, you gently rubbed ointment on Peter’s palms. Then, you went back into your little bag and pulled out two, clean handkerchiefs. One was a pale pink and the other was a light blue. You wrapped up Peter’s hands cautiously, trying not to put pressure on the wound.

“All done. That should be okay until you get to Hogwarts.” You naturally gave his wrist a little pat, the way you did to yourself when you’d finished treating yourself – only to realize that that likely wasn’t a normal thing to do with a complete stranger.

You carefully peeked up at him, wondering if he’d noticed.

He sure had. He was staring at you with slightly wide eyes once again.

You flushed. “I’m sorry. That was strange, wasn’t it? I should leave, I think. Yes, um, good-bye, then!”

You were gone before Peter could say another word. The last he saw of you that day was your pouch, swinging behind you before the crowd and fog swallowed you up.

When Peter got onto the train, he ran into the other Marauders.

“What the hell have you got wrapped around your palms, Worm?” Sirius asked.

“I got a bit scratched up,” Peter answered.

James reached over and carefully lifted the handkerchief, to see underneath. “That’s nothing, Pete. You don’t even really need the handkerchiefs.”

“I know,” Peter replied. But he left them on, anyways.

*     *     *     *     *     *     *     *     *     *

Then, one day, you were minding your own business, sitting under the weeping willow by the Great Lake, humming to yourself and reading your textbook before the next class when, all of a sudden, you saw a silver helmet clunking speedily along the ground, towards the lake.

You blinked. A helmet? You rubbed your eyes and leaned over your textbook, trying to see the glimmering silver object better.

Just then, someone called out, “Catch it, please!”

Throwing your textbook aside, you ran forward and caught the object just before it rolled into the water. Looking at it in your hands, you realized that it was, in fact, a helmet.

The person who had shouted at you came running forward, all out of breath.

You recognized him at once as Peter Pettigrew. In fact, more than once, you’d made an effort to talk to him again. Only, as soon as you thought he was alone and you shyly came forward, he would be ambushed by James Potter, Sirius Black, and Remus Lupin out of nowhere. Or else, some other times, when you thought you might be able to sit and chat with him, you found him looking rather gloomy and morose, and you weren’t sure if it would be all right for you to intrude.

Anyways, you never did talk to him again. But you certainly recognized him.

You calmly held the helmet out for him to take.

“Sorry,” Peter began, wheezing slightly, “I didn’t mean to let it go and, anyways, it’s not really my fault, Padfoot got all happy and kicked it - ” He paused, however, as he realized who exactly was standing before him, holding out the helmet for him. “It’s… you.”

The helmet was quite heavy, and your arms started to shake slightly.

Peter quickly reached out and grasped it. As he took the helmet from you, you wondered aloud, “How are your hands?”

Peter looked a bit bemused. “Um, that was two years ago.”

Feeling embarrassed, you gathered your hands behind your back and clasped them tightly. However, you kept your voice light and easy, as you murmured, “Was it? Oh… Sorry, that was a silly question.”

Seeing you withdraw, Peter immediately wished he could take back his words. Nervously running his hand through his hair, he blurted out, “No, it wasn’t. I was just surprised that you remembered.”

As he spoke, he unintentionally stepped closer to you.

You stepped lightly, keeping your hands still tightly clasped behind your back. You looked up at Peter and murmured, very quietly, “Did you forget…?”

Peter felt a frog jump into his throat. He opened his mouth to answer you, for, more than anything, he wanted to answer you truthfully and boldly, and say, “No, of course not. Do you have any idea how many times I’ve thought of you since then?” Only, Peter found that his voice was stuck. He couldn’t seem to speak. He opened and closed his mouth a few times, while turning increasingly more red, until he finally gave up and shut his mouth.

Peter saw your eyes dim. You had interpreted his struggle to answer you as his struggling to remember you.

“Never mind,” you said, trying to move on from the awkward moment. “Anyways…” You nodded down at the helmet that Peter was still holding. “What are you doing with something like that?”

Peter looked down. Seeing the helmet, his brain kicked back into gear. “Ah, right. I was setting up a prank with the suit of armor on the fourth floor when Filch caught me. I got so nervous that I just ran for it and I didn’t realize I had taken the helmet with me until I was out of the castle.” He looked at you sheepishly, as he admitted, “Filch didn’t manage to catch any of us and Sirius was so pleased that he did a celebratory drop-kick with the helmet.”

“Oh.” You laughed a little. You found it quite funny, the antics that Peter and his friends seemed to get up to, but at the same time, it felt like such a faraway world from yours that you weren’t sure how to react.

You finally managed to pry your clasped hands apart and you tried to appear natural as you waved your hand at him. “Well, then…”

You had started to turn away when Peter called out, “Hey, what’s wrong with your palm? Are you hurt?”

“Hm?”

Peter stepped closer to you. He very gently took your wrist and turned it over. You’d been gripping your hands so hard that there were small nail marks imprinted into your palm.

“Oh,” you murmured, “I was – I suppose I might have been clutching my hands together.”

“Why?” Peter wondered.

You flushed and dropped your head lower, not wanting to admit that you had actually been very hopeful that Peter had remembered you as precisely as you remembered him.

Seeing your reaction, Peter furiously bit down on his lower lip, once again regretting how foolishly he’d spoken.

“It’s nothing,” you said, and you made to take your hand away.

Suddenly, Peter dropped the helmet he was holding. Then, quick as a blink, he slid his hand into yours and grasped your hand just hard enough that you could feel his palm to yours.   

“See?” Peter said kindly. “I’m all healed. You can feel how smooth my palm is, right?”

Your heart gave a little leap. Is he… ? Does he mean that he remembers me, after all?

You decided to try a little test. “Oh, but it was both hands.”

Peter smiled at you. He reached over with his other hand and grasped your other hand. “There we go.”

You squeezed his hands lightly in yours and reported back, “Yes, I think they’ve healed… quite nicely.”

“Thanks to your care,” Peter said. “Your medicine and – uh – your handkerchiefs.”

A lovely smile graced your lips and you looked up at Peter as you said, “I still remember how you looked, carefully holding out your hands, with these little bows on them.”

Peter’s smile brightened at first. But it quickly faded as the nerves overtook him. Still, he worked up the courage to say to you, “You can, uh, say no. In fact, I’m betting you’ll probably say no. Because – well, you’re… and I’m… But would you – D’you think maybe it’d be all right if I – I kissed you?”

Your eyes went all bright again, the way they had been when Peter had been gazing at you as you were lying on the train station floor, staring back up at him.

Then, before Peter realized what was happening, you got onto tiptoe and kissed him first.

It was a soft, less-than-a-second kiss. It felt like a butterfly had brushed back his lips for one second, and then taken off again.

Peter blinked.

You waited expectantly for his reaction. Though, not at all immune to shyness and embarrassment yourself, you began to blush along with him.

“Oh…” Peter murmured, dazed. “Um, thank – thank you.”

You laughed. “You sound so silly, but you’re welcome.”

You pulled away from Peter and went over to fetch your textbook.

Peter meandered over, too, vaguely following you. He was still processing what he was supposed to do now. This was all so unexpected with you. Yet, though he was more than happy to make you smile and laugh, he didn’t want you to see him as just ‘silly.’ He wanted you to feel that he could be a genuine partner for you, someone who could not only be kind, but could also sweep you off your feet.

That was why, Peter quickly stepped forward, grasped you by your waist, gently but eagerly pressed you up against the tree, and then gave you a sweet, but desirous kiss.

“Mm!” you let out a muffled cry of surprise. Your hands flew to Peter’s shoulders.

But slowly, as you both began to relax into the kiss, Peter reached up and grasped both of your hands in his.

Warmed by his kind grasp and happily surprised by his eager kiss, you kissed him back to your heart’s desire that day, and at the end of the kiss, you were finally able to mumble sweetly the name that had been subtly bouncing around in the back of your head ever since that day on the train station: “Peter.”

[mybettertomorrow]

It’s been almost a year. Things have changed, and yet they remain the same. Still in Paris, but now working. The friends I met in October of last year made the whole year incredible. I lived things that I never thought I would. The girl I met is still in my life, but just as a good friend. As I suspected, I had my heart broken when I realized she didn’t feel the same way. The tougher thing was seeing her fall for, not one, but two different guys since. Oh well. I did discover that she appreciates me as a friend, and I grew out a bit from last year’s crush, thank god.

Here’s the reason Im writing. Since classes finished in June, I’ve felt like shit. Specially since August started. I started at my internship, my friends went on holiday and my cousin left again. All of a sudden I was alone and bored in a foreign city. And it feels like this has caused me to doubt everything. How good I am at my job. If I even want my job. Was it a good idea to leave home. Did I make the right choice with the friends I made. Why haven’t I been honest about myself to anyone.

All of these thoughts visit me everyday. At other points in my life I’ve been able to pull myself through, but I’ve never felt as lost as I do now. Maybe it’s the loneliness, or the fear. Or perhaps the shame. The worst part is that, for the first time in a really long time, I’ve been thinking about self harm. It’s super scary, because I’ve never felt as close to it as I do now. Im trying to find the way out, by any healthy means necessary. I have tried to talk to friends about the way I feel, Im working out a lot and trying to keep a routine. And yet they come. To be honest, I think it stems from the fact that I left home to live the life I always wanted. Now Im away, and Im still not living it because I guess Im more afraid that I thought I was. I miss home like crazy, but I feel like I cant go back until I break out of this self made prison. But I’ve been away for a year and Im still inside. So I guess I have to start being true and honest about who I am to actually get what I need and want. Im so scared of disappointing people, or having everything change for the worst.

I couldnt sleep tonight, so I went on Youtube. For some reason I thought of Abbi Jacobson, and as I was watching videos of her, I remember this interview of hers that was posted in September of 2022. I remember watching it and feeling so… I don’t know, like understood? But I remember later that night not being able to sleep because I kept thinking how I felt like I could never be fully honest with myself unless I left home. It’s like I had this burning feeling in my chest telling me to do everything in my power to leave, that if I didn’t I would always regret it. 2 years later, Im laying awake on my bed in Paris, far away from home, but not yet being honest.

Therefore, I really want to be more honest. I cannot long for a life this bad and not do anything to live it. The truth is that Im bi. I havent said it to anyone, and Im terrible afraid of doing so. But now I’ve realized that I cannot be happy if I don’t say anything. I’ve been repressing myself my whole life to fulfill what I think others expect of me, and Im so unhappy because of it. I don’t know when I’ll come out, but I really hope it’s soon. I dream of having a partner literally every single day, but Im too scared to say it out loud because I feel pathetic. I want it so bad, but do nothing about it. So I will actually do something about it, I owe it to my future self laying in bed awake in the middle of the night, next to the person they love.

Last bit. I think I don’t like my career. Thats a big oopsie on my part. I have an idea of what I would like to do, but it’s so broad and idealistic that it feels stupid. However, I will try to find my way there. Im so worried of feeling the call to art and not following through, I know I will regret it if I don’t.

[dearestaeneas]

Diary of Juliette Ashburn

13 August

I do not remember moving to Fairstall. I know I was not born here, that my presence in the city is relatively new, but I remember nothing of my life prior. The most curious thing, I’ve realized, is how little these facts disturb me. I like it in Fairstall.

Of course, I’m no fool. You can’t just…not know where you come from. Right? I read an article yesterday, about a family who found their amnesiac father in the next state over, having completely started a new life. I suppose that’s why it’s on my mind, the not knowing. Is someone looking for me?

16 August

    I was on the fence about mentioning anything to Robbie. He’s a good friend, but after all my nonsense last year, I don’t think I can handle the look of pity he’d give me. But, having torn the band-aid off, maybe I’d’ve preferred that to the uneasiness that overtook him.

    “You’re being silly,” he said, quickly putting his mug to his mouth. “You moved here 6 years ago.”

    I sat up straighter. Somehow, having a timeline frustrated me even more. Six years? In the grand scheme of things, that’s nothing. Panic crept through my veins, its hot fingers stretching and flexing. “Jules,” Robbie said, voice softer now.

    “From where?” I asked quickly, swallowing the lump I felt in my throat. I’m not sure if it sounded as nonchalant as I intended. He paused. “Philadelphia.”

    I nodded and within ten minutes had made up some sudden excuse to leave the coffee shop. I was so nauseous as the entrance bell clanged that I don’t think I really registered the eyes on me. I was too busy trying not to vomit.

31 August

    I feel paranoid all the time. I haven’t fallen asleep before 3am since I last spoke to Robbie. I’ve always been a bit of an insomniac, but never like this. I feel like I’m only safe once the sun comes up. The headaches are the worst, leaving me nauseous and irritable.

    So many people have been checking in on me, including people I’ve only spoken to in passing, or not at all. It feels like the entire city is in some kind of line outside my door, just waiting to move up. They’re always full of kind words, sometimes meals or flowers. At first they had excuses. “Oh, I made too much anyway, here!” “Please, my garden is overflowing with the things!” Now they’ve started apologizing.

    No one will tell me what there is to apologize for.

18 September

    Robbie keeps telling me we need to talk. He’s left a dozen messages in my mailbox. “Call me back when you get a chance, Jules,” he says. “Just…please? Okay?” I won’t. I’ve been lying in bed, searching my own name online. Juliette Ashburn, as far as I can tell, does not exist. Never in Philly, at least.

    I don’t open the door at the knocks anymore, and they’re getting scarcer and scarcer. Good. At night I open it a crack, drag in whatever was left for me, and sit on the kitchen floor devouring cold casseroles and rock-hard brownies. I don’t remember the last time I cooked for myself.

    I am going to try and leave Fairstall.

19 September

    I’ve been sitting on the Fairstall side of the city limits for upwards of 2 hours by now. I watched the sunrise, the orange light of the sky’s fire covering everything around me. It really is a pretty place. If I was an artist I’d draw the city, with its art deco architecture and murals, its trees that somehow were always in bloom, even the powerlines that can be played as sheet music with the crows that meet on them acting as the notes. Why would I want to…

    What is happening to me?

    I am leaving Fairstall. I’ve waited long enough. I’ve sat here for so long, scared, but of what? I can see the road ahead of me, and it looks just like the road behind me. But…I can’t do it.

    “Are you alright?”

    I can’t find the owner of the voice. I realize I’m not afraid, which in itself frightens me. “Not really,” I answer quietly.

    “What are you doing?”

    “Leaving.”

    “You don’t seem to be doing a very good job of it.”

    I should have been offended, but they were right. There was no harshness in their voice, no judgment. It was simply an observation. “No,” I said miserably. “I’m not.”

    I don’t know who I expected to see. With the rustling behind me, I turned to see nothing. Or, not nothing. The air shimmered and I felt like I was looking at a person made from glass. There was a definite shape to them, although they themselves were flexible, almost intangible. “That’s not a bad thing, Juliette.”

    “How could it be anything but?”

    Although they had no face, I felt the sympathy in the look they gave me then. I took their hand when they offered it, silent as we reached the border together. They nodded to the road ahead, hand still firmly in my own. I think I understood.

    As I stepped out of the city limits, they remained. My arm was pulled behind me, gently. The road ahead crumbled, the grass a sickly yellow. The sky here was alight with a different kind of fire. I gasped.

    The figure pulled me back, and I turned to them, the air still not back in my lungs. I must have been back within the Fairstall city limits, for when I turned toward that wasteland, the road in front of me was sturdy, the embankment lush and green, speckled with flowers. I stepped forward again, hearing sirens in the distance.

    A step back. Birds chirped.

    I think I understood then, too.

    “Hiding in plain sight.”

    “We never had a chance.”

[pendragonsandbuckleys]

Oh it felt so easy then.

My @malexsanta​ fic for @manesguerin​​, Merry Christmas Sarah!! ✨

This is the first time I’ve ever been given a prompt so I really hope I’ve done it justice. I’ve gone with the prompt ‘lost decade’ and as you may notice by the length of it, it kind of got away from me… but I really hope you like it!

[Also on AO3]

Summary: Ten years of letters filed away with such love and care into a decade old shoebox and what was it all for? 

A look at the lost decade through Michael’s eyes.

Word Count: 21,499

❄️👽🎄💌

Ten years was a long time.

Five hundred and twenty-one weeks to be filled with laughter and tears, friends and family, old secrets and new opportunities. 

Three thousand, six hundred and fifty days to get over a stupid high school crush that was never going to last.

Michael closed the door behind him, furious at the sudden emotions raging inside him. He hadn’t heard from Alex in a long time, hadn’t see him in even longer. So why was his heart racing at the mere sight of the man he once loved.

Glancing at the many whiteboards and notepads filled with scientific scribble and spaceship blueprints reminded Michael that there was so much more than just the thin wall of the airstream keeping them apart. They’d been kidding themselves to even try to make it work. They were two different people with two different lives.

His eyes wandered to the other end of the trailer. He should have thrown out the box long ago, burnt it even.

He had been so proud of the fact that he hadn’t looked inside in months, hadn’t given in to the temptation to see Alex’s delicate penmanship and carefully chosen words. He had most of the letters committed to memory, but re-reading them after a difficult day used to help calm the chaos in his mind.

It had been a long time since he’d forced himself to forget about the box and all it contained but one look at Alex and all the feelings he’d spent months suppressing had come flooding back. The feelings of hope and happiness. Of love.

He slowly walked towards the closet and crouched down to rummage through his belongings. There were a few things piled inside but right at the bottom was what he wanted.

A simple shoebox. The writing on the front was long worn away and the lid was practically falling apart but the box itself wasn’t important. He lifted the lid and a stale scent of roses immediately filled the air. His hand brushed the dried petals to the side before hesitating above the first envelope. 

Ten years of letters filed away with such love and care into a decade old shoebox and what was it all for?

September 2008

It started with the hubcaps.

Well, really, it all started seventy years ago when one innocent eyeliner wearing, music loving boy’s ancestors began a lifelong mission to destroy Michael’s family.

But those goddamn hubcaps. I mean, if he was going to steal anything from Kyle Valenti’s car it could have been something useful. His truck needed a new battery after all.

The thrill of the theft hadn’t quite overpowered the pain in his heart and a night in a cell, alone with his thoughts, definitely hadn’t helped the way he thought it would.

Ever since Alex had told him that he was enlisting, Michael had been acting weird around him. Getting into more and more fights, drinking and smoking and doing all he could to cause trouble, regardless of how much he could see it was hurting Alex.

And every time Alex begged him to get it together, Michael was reminded of the fact that the only person he had ever had feelings for would soon be leaving him. That Alex was choosing to leave him to follow in his father’s footsteps.

So he pushed Alex away. He got himself arrested all for the sake of self preservation which should have felt like a win but really all he had done was waste the last day he could have had with Alex.

It had been a few weeks since Alex had left for Texas for Basic Training and Michael hadn’t heard a single thing from him. Though he couldn’t blame him. Michael had made it very clear that their short lived relationship was over.

And maybe that’s really all it was meant to be. Maybe it was just some summer fling that meant nothing in the long run. Simply a way for two broken people to just breathe for five seconds.

And maybe it was stupid for him to believe it could have been anything more.

As he stared up at the starry night sky from the back of his truck he felt his phone vibrate inside his trouser pocket.

Another text from Isobel no doubt.

She had been trying to get in touch with him all evening. All week in fact. And he couldn’t be bothered to deal with it today.

After graduation she had been adamant that Michael wasn’t going to drift away from them. Not seeing each other just because they were no longer forced to share a classroom was not an option.

So she had taken to texting him. A lot. Mainly mundane things, little updates about her life like a job interview she’d managed to secure or a new boy she was possibly seeing. She’d always try to ask about what he was up to or encourage him to come over for dinner, but that was usually his cue to stop replying. A dead battery or no credit was his go to excuse but there’s no way she really believed him.

He just couldn’t face seeing her or Max, not yet. The horror of Rosa, Kate and Jasmine’s deaths and their decision to cover it up was still so fresh in his mind and any opportunity to not remember it was preferable. 

It was strange, thinking about it. That night was one of the worst nights of his life for two wildly different reasons.

A very personal, homophobic attack that left his hand crushed beyond repair and a triple murder that no one would ever know the real truth about. Not even the person responsible.

And while he just wanted to take his mind off the people involved in one of these for a little while, he never wanted to forget the person involved in the other.

He had no idea if he would ever see Alex again, but just hoped that he was okay. That he was happy. That he was safe. 

And that would have to be good enough for now.

November 2008

Michael’s truck jolted to a stop in the Wild Pony parking lot. 

It was earlier than he’d usually be here but the day drinking was a new thing he was trying. 

He’d been having regrets lately about not taking up the UNM scholarship. He was fully aware that he was more than smart enough to continue with his studies and yeah maybe the courses would be far more mundane than he’d like, but at least he could do something worthy with this life. But then every time he considered re-thinking his decision, his hopes were brought crashing back down to earth with the reminder of why he didn’t go to university in the first place.

He had slowly begun letting Max and Isobel back into his life, a coffee date here and a shopping trip there, but sometimes all the friendly conversations in the world couldn’t stop his desire to just be numb every now and then.

The excessive alcohol consumption was a recent development, but hey, a town drunk has to start at some point, right?

There was a clerk at a gas station a few miles away that had no problems turning a blind eye to his clean shaven baby face and he’d managed to get a fake ID for the more difficult purchases. Such as the Wild Pony. A typical Roswell bar without the added green alien decor. Every local knew the Wild Pony and unfortunately the Wild Pony knew him - or more importantly, his age.

Maybe he’d get lucky today and it would be a new bar tender but if not, then he’d just slip some acetone into a soft drink. That would have to do the trick for now.

It was mid afternoon so there was a decent amount of people inside, but no sign of the rowdy drunks that tended to emerge after dark. The only person working behind the bar was currently wiping down the surfaces as a pair of customers walked away with their drinks.

Michael swaggered confidently past the men at the pool table and the group of girls in the booth that he vaguely recognised from school and perched on one of the stools at the bar. “I’ll have whatever’s cheapest.”

“You got ID?” The bar tender gave him a look that just screamed I don’t have time for your bullshit, but Michael was nothing if not persistent. She walked over, arms folded neatly across her chest, cloth still gripped in one hand, and came to a stop in front of him.

The badge pinned to her denim jacket spelled out her name in thick capital letters but Michael didn’t need to read it. Everyone knew who Maria Deluca was. With her beautiful curls and disarming smile, she was a friend to almost everyone at New Roswell High.

And though she was one of Alex’s oldest friends, Michael had barely said two words to her during their many years walking the same school halls but right now she was his best chance at scoring a drink.

“C’mon Deluca, we don’t have to bother with all that.” He mustered up as much charm as he could manage as he leant forward on the bar but Maria wasn’t swayed, her face set in a clear display of annoyance.

“I told you last time, I’m not getting fired just to help fuel these little angsty life choices you’ve been making recently.”

“Your mom’s not gonna fire you for helping a friend.”

“Oh wow,” Her eyes widened, feigning surprise, “Sorry I wasn’t aware we’d become friends.”

“Well,” Michael shrugged, “Every time I come in, it’s like you’re here waiting for me, so I just thought…” 

“I’m stuck this side of the bar Guerin. I have no choice but to put up with whatever you think is going on right now.”

Michael sniggered as he raised an eyebrow. The chances of him getting drunk anytime soon were dwindling by the second but he was enjoying the banter nonetheless.

“One day. One day I’ll get you to admit how much you love seeing me.”

Maria rolled her eyes as she flipped the cloth over one shoulder. “I am glad you’re here actually.”

“Really?” 

“Yes. It means I don’t have to spend my time trying to track you down.” She rummaged through a bag sitting behind the bar before pulling out an envelope. “Someone clearly knows you well.”

Michael took it from her with a frown. One quick glance at the front confirmed that it was indeed labelled to him, only with the Wild Pony’s address neatly scripted underneath his name.

Who would be sending him a letter? Who even sent letters anymore?

He looked up to ask Maria when it had arrived but she’d already made her way over to the customers at the other end of the bar.

Without hesitation he carefully ripped it open and pulled out the piece of paper inside. Impatient as ever, his eyes immediately darted to the end of the page to see who it was from and he almost fell off the chair at the name signed at the bottom.

It had been four months since he’d seen Alex. Four month since he’d heard his beautiful voice or seen his perfect face. And yet here, in his hands, was a letter from the one person he honestly thought he’d never hear from again.

Someone on a nearby table cheered loudly and Michael was suddenly reminded of where he was. It didn’t feel right, reading Alex’s first words to him in months under the harsh neon lights of the bar so without sparing a second glance at Maria, he practically sprinted all the way to the parking lot, yanking the door open as soon as he reached his truck.

Taking a deep breath, he unfolded the paper and began reading.

Dear Michael,

I’ve debated writing this letter for a while now, mainly because of how we left things. I wasn’t sure if you wanted to keep in contact but I’ve been missing some people back in Roswell and I think I just needed to get a few things out of my head. I might not even send this letter, but if you’re reading this then I guess it means my sentimentality won out.

I’ve been thinking about how peaceful the desert is back home. How quiet it would be when we’d park the truck in the middle of nowhere and just lie under the sun for hours. It’s surprising the things you notice yourself missing when you haven’t been somewhere in a while.

There’s so many people here it feels like school all over again. I tried to distance myself from everyone in some last act of defiance, but I’ve ended up making a few friends. Honestly I think it would be impossible to get through this alone.

I’ve finished basic training now. It was harder than I thought it was going to be but I got through it and I’m onto the next phase. We get to choose the specialism ourselves so at least that’s a positive and who knows, maybe I’ll be quite good at it.

I’m going to be here for a least a few months to complete my training before I find out where I’m being assigned so I’ve included my address incase you want to write back.

Whatever it is that you decided to do with your life, I hope you’re okay.

From,

Alex.

P.S. I’m sorry for sending this to the Wild Pony, I hope Maria got it to you okay. I would have addressed it to ‘Michael Guerin’s Truck’, but I had a feeling it wouldn’t quite reach you.

Michael re-read the letter another three times before he could bear to take his eyes off the page.

Alex had written to him. Amongst all the training and hard work and confusion over how they’d parted, Alex had taken the time to sit down and write to him. 

It was brief and simple and Michael couldn’t stop smiling.

He fumbled trying to get his keys in the ignition before putting the truck in gear, already planning his reply, all desire to get drunk suddenly forgotten.

February 2009

“I don’t pay you to sit around doodling.” Sanders called over gruffly from under the hood of the car he was working on.

“I’ve already finished with Campbell’s jeep.” Michael replied distractedly as he continued to scribble in the notepad.

The repair had needed longer than he had expected so he was taking what he deemed as a well earned break. If the old man had a problem with it then he could go ahead and find a better mechanic. Michael didn’t earn nearly enough to put up with his attitude anyway.

Sitting under the barely put together shelter that Sanders had the audacity to call his workshop, Michael started to scrawl a reply to Alex. Letter number four had arrived just under a week ago and he had yet to come up with a response.

Again addressed to the Wild Pony, Alex had talked about the latest shenanigans of his fellow airmen and how he’d been missing his guitar lately. He never went into detail about the work he was doing but he always made sure to mention that it was going well. Michael could practically visualise him picking out the words very carefully to make sure it didn’t sound like he was boasting, but sometimes it made writing a reply hard.

He was so pleased for Alex. Every letter he received had a more and more happier tone to it and honestly, he was glad that Alex was finding his place in the Air Force. He will always hate that he signed up, but considering he was going to be a part of it for a long time, Michael was just relieved that he had settled in. 

It did mean, however, that his life felt very boring in comparison. What was he supposed to say? Hey Alex, I fixed another car today. I’ll probably be hanging out with Isobel later to spend hours listening to her moan about something before going to sleep in my truck and doing it all again tomorrow.

He was just about to jot something down when something small and hard bounced off his forehead.

“Ow! What the hell was that for?” Michael rubbed his head and glared at the man.

“Are you listening to me?” Sanders waved the wrench in his hand as he tried to punctuate his point.

“Obviously.”

“What did I say?”

“…words?” Michael replied innocently, throwing his hands up in defeat when Sanders looked ready to throw something else. “Alright, alright sorry, what did you want?”

“The Johnson's SUV needs its engine looking at and when you’re done with that you can change the brake pads on that pickup that came in this morning.”

“On it.” Michael gave a halfhearted salute as he grabbed the closest toolbox and headed out into the sun.

He wasn’t really in the mood to be working in the heat today but at least this way the vehicles were far enough away from Sanders that he wouldn’t have any distractions from his real task.

He’d been grabbing odd shifts at the junkyard since he was fourteen, but last month he’d finally persuaded Sanders to hire him properly. If he was to have any hope of moving out of his truck, he needed to start earning some proper money doing something he was half decent at.

He’d been trying to find a way to work this news into his letter but he couldn’t quite find the words. He didn’t want to admit to himself that it was because he was ashamed, but that’s exactly what it was. Alex was at the start of a prestigious career that would take him across the world, learning new skills and earning decent money.

Michael was a mechanic. Barely.

And he knew that Alex wouldn’t care about the difference in their jobs, he’d just be happy that Michael was a step above wasting his life. It was just so hard to fit everything he really wanted to say into one letter.

Maybe he was struggling so much with the words because he’d much rather say it in person. He hadn’t seen Alex in forever and he missed the simple act of just being with him. Of sitting in the back of the truck, shoulders touching and hands intertwined. The amount of serotonin a short handwritten note could produce was ridiculous but it in no way replaced the feel of having the real thing in front of him.

Though if Alex was feeling anything near the way he was, then maybe it didn’t matter what he wrote. The mere fact that he had replied would hopefully be enough.

April 2009

Isobel looked at him disapprovingly, switching her many bags from one hand to the other. “Really Michael? Just because you live in the desert doesn’t mean you need to actually start dressing like a cowboy.”

A shopping trip with Isobel wasn’t Michael’s first choice for a Saturday afternoon, but he’d had no good excuse to refuse as she practically dragged him to the mall.

For someone who liked to try on almost everything in a single store, Isobel had chosen what she wanted to buy pretty quickly. Now it was Michael’s turn but he honestly wasn’t sure what she expected of him. He’d been living in the same clothes for years now, he didn’t know how to do the whole shopping spree thing.

“You’re the one who wanted to buy me new clothes.”

“Yeah, because I wanted to make you look cool. Not like a nineteen year old version of the Lone Ranger.”

Michael looked in the mirror again. The black cowboy hat resting atop his head was working well with the rancher aesthetic he had going on. It hid his curls and made him look slightly older, giving him more of an edge than his baseball cap could usually muster. 

It just felt right. 

Growing up, he’d never had the chance to really figure out his own identity besides angry, rebellious orphan and going full-on cowboy felt like a good place to start. 

Besides, he looked damn good.

“You’ve already chosen the rest of my wardrobe for me Isobel. You can’t let me make one big boy decision for myself?” Michael gave her a pointed looked as he took the hat off and ran a hand through his hair.

“Fine. Just don’t show Max, he’s already started a godawful belt buckle collection, I don’t want him getting any ideas.” She happily snatched it out of his hand and strutted elegantly to the till.

He had missed these moments with Isobel. The familial feeling of her bossing him around.

No one ever talked about how easy it was to drift apart from people after high school, how the close bonds you thought you’d formed over the lunch table could so quickly disappear once you’re all thrown into the real world.

But the three of them were different. Michael, Max and Isobel, the three children found wandering the desert all those years ago. He hadn’t been able to rid himself of them then and turns out he still couldn’t now. Despite his best efforts to distance himself, they had managed to completely worm their way back into his life over the past few months and honestly he was better off for it.

Today wasn’t the first weekend outing he’d endured and it definitely wouldn’t be the last, but his heart felt a little lighter from having spent it in good company. With the bags heavy in their hands, they grabbed some food at a nearby burger place before calling it a day. He dropped Isobel home and drove to his usual night-time parking spot.

Climbing effortlessly onto the back of the truck, he looked inside the singular bag Isobel had gifted him. He’d come away with a new pair of boots, a few t-shirts and the cowboy hat. Nowhere near enough in Isobel’s opinion but after the reminder that he didn’t exactly have a closet right now she had conceded.

He shoved the bag into the corner and leant forward to pulled out the letter that had been burning a hole in his back pocket all day. He grimaced at the sight of it, with its crease down the middle and its crumpled edges. Isobel had ambushed him coming out of the Wild Pony before he’d had a chance to read it - or put it away - which meant it had been hidden in the only place available at the time.

As much as he loved her, he wasn’t quite ready to share it with her yet.

He unrolled his blanket and threw it around his shoulders, settling back against the truck before opening the envelope. He’d finally told Alex about the junkyard in his last letter and he’d been waiting to hear back for a few weeks now.

Dear Michael,

That’s amazing news about the job! You really are the best mechanic in the whole of Roswell so Sanders is lucky to have you.

You shouldn’t put yourself down though. You used to always be fixing things when I was back home (annoyingly effortlessly from what I remember) so to get paid for doing something you enjoy is kind of the dream, right?

Plus I’m sure the drivers of Roswell will be very grateful to have someone with two eyes checking their brakes are working correctly. I mean, should Sanders even be fixing cars anymore? I swear he can’t even see three inches in front of his face!

Speaking of work, I was thinking about the Emporium yesterday. Have you been inside recently? I wonder if they ever noticed the alien with its head on backwards. Still definitely your fault by the way.

I kind of miss that uniform too, even the visor. I have to wear my uniform all the time now and it’s nowhere near as comfortable. I feel like it’s becoming a part of me, like I’m never going to be able to go home after a long day and forget about everything for a while, it’s just always going to be there.

I’m sure I’ll get used it.

I think we’re being moved in a couple of weeks so I’ll give you my new address when that happens. But for now, I hope you’re okay.

Speak to you soon,

Alex.

Michael leant his head back and watched as the sun slowly began to set behind the trees.

Alex always knew how to make him feel a million different emotions at once. He felt an unfamiliar sense of pride at the praise Alex had offered but reading the boy’s words about his own work made Michael long to have him back with him, away from all the regimented days and looming risk of danger.

He couldn’t stop himself from grinning though, thinking back to the alien statue standing in the corner of the crop circle exhibit. That had been a good day. And yeah, it was definitely his fault.

He was about to put this latest letter away with the rest when an idea came to him. He grabbed the bag that Isobel had lovingly handed over and pulled out the shoebox that had been squeezed inside amongst the various clothes.

He ran his nail across the tape keeping the box sealed, breaking it easily in a single movement, and took off the lid.

He pulled out the new boots, followed by the scrunched up tissue paper intended to keep them somewhat preserved, until he was left with an empty box. It was a decent size, not too big that it would be a pain to store under the passenger seat and not too small that he would run out of space anytime soon.

He’d been keeping the letters in his glove compartment for now but it didn’t quite feel safe enough for something so precious. But this shoebox was perfect. 

He placed the letter inside before heading to the front of the truck and retrieving the rest, slotting them in neatly and closing the lid to keep them secure.

Tonight he’d sleep thinking about the last day he and Alex had shared in the UFO Emporium and as soon as the sun was up, he’d write his reply.

July 2009

Dear Alex,

You’ll never guess what happened today.

I’ve been working every shift Sanders will give me just to save up some cash and like some crazy act of luck an old airstream got dumped at the junkyard last week. It took some convincing but Sanders actually let me buy it off him!

It’s small and pretty run down but I figured it could be a fun project. I am very good with my hands, as you know.

It’s not as glamorous as a house or anything like that, but at least this way I can move out of my truck and into a place with an actual sink. Plus, I reckon I’m the smart one here. No rent to pay? Less space to clean? It’s perfect.

Do you think you’ll be able to visit Roswell soon? You’re probably working hard, getting your geek on and saving the world, but it’s been a while. A year actually, next month.

No pressure, but I look forward to the day I get to officially invite you inside my new place.

Stay safe out there.

Michael

Michael careful wrote his new address on the back, then sealed the envelope and left it by the door as a reminder to post the next time he was in town.

He hadn’t even started to unpack yet, his first priority being to share his big news. He figured that’s what he would have wanted to do if Alex was in Roswell anyway.

The airstream had been dumped a few days ago and though Michael wasn’t aware how much Sanders had paid the guy for it, he was pretty sure it must have cost more for Sanders than it had for Michael. Which was strange.

Since spending almost every day with Sanders, they had definitely worked up some form of workplace bond to some extent. Although some days, it was a wonder Michael could be bothered to engage in the conversations that were mainly a mix of complaints or disinterested grunts.

He must be rubbing off on the old man though because he had given away the airstream at a bargain.

As soon as he’d agreed it with Old Man Simmons that he could park it at Foster Ranch - along with the offer of earning his keep by working the land - he had brought all of his belongings inside and now the next task was to find a place for everything. There may not be much in the three boxes currently sitting on the bed, but they were his. They were the few things that he had been able to actually buy for himself over the past few years and really call his own.

And now that he had a home to put them in, he wanted to do it perfectly.

It felt bizarre to think about. His home. A place he could finally call his own. A place to cook and wash and sleep, safe from the cold and desert dust. The group homes and fosters parents of the past had never let him decorate his own space but now he had the opportunity to make everything his own.

And he knew exactly where to start. The clothes would go in the closet and the limited toiletries would be given their place in the bathroom. That was all obvious, another decision made for him.

But something he could choose for himself?

He picked up the shoebox and peaked inside. It had gained a few more letters since he had started filling it and they were all piled neatly in order.

Looking around, there were several places it could sit.

On the desk would make it the first thing he’d see coming home. But would therefore be the first thing Isobel and Max would go snooping through when they visited.

The drawers next to the closet would keep it safe but they were just too small for the box.

The closet itself felt too impersonal. Like he was hiding it away from himself as well as everyone else.

His eyes were drawn to the bed - his mind instantly jumping to the thought of him and Alex sharing it together - and then to the overhead compartment above it.

Lifting the latch, it popped open with a click and when Michael slid the box in, it fit perfectly. Safe, sealed and close to him where he would sleep.

Feeling happy about the very important decision, he closed the compartment.

Now, onto the rest.

November 2009

It had been a very quiet morning.

Sanders was away for a few days and he’d banned Michael from working in the junkyard without supervision after a recent accident that had pissed him off. He hadn’t meant for the hammer to hit the window of the Davis’ land rover, honest. He’d been aiming for the toolbox.

He’d get the old man to change his mind soon enough, but in the meantime what better place to spend the morning than in bed.

The recently bought sheets were soft against his bare chest as he stared up at the ceiling. The box was still tucked away in the cupboard above him, taken out frequently with every new visit from the mailman. It’s not like anyone else ever sent him post.

Alex had been getting very sappy in his letters recently, reminiscing about the previous summer. Though compared to the past year of writing, the days they had actually spent in each other’s company were few and far between.

It was practically the end of the school year when Michael had borrowed Alex’s guitar from the music room. A decision which he would never regret. And though they had barely spoken during their many years at the same school, when Alex had offered him shelter it hadn’t really mattered. They had clicked so instantly that the few months that they did manage to share felt like they spanned an eternity.

A lot of bad things happened that summer, but he’d do anything to go back just to relieve those good days again.

A knock at the door interrupted his daydream. He sat up, confused, and tried to peak through the newspaper taped to the window. He wasn’t expecting visitors and he couldn’t quite make out enough of the shape to work out who it was.

He rolled sleepily out of bed and grabbed yesterday’s pants, hopping the short distance to the door as he tried to yank them up.

Pushing the door open revealed a sight that had Michael’s breath catching in his throat.

The boy in front of him looked different. Gone was the dark eyeliner that used to frame his eyes and the nail varnish that would stand out against his skin. No more septum piercing or earring, and the chain that Michael would play with as they kissed was missing from his neck.

His hair was much shorter and so not him.

But he was here.

Alex was here. Standing in front of him. And Michael hadn’t said anything. Why wasn’t he saying anything? It was like his brain had short-circuited at the mere sight of the one person he’d been longing to see.

“Hi.” Alex nervously broke the silence, playing with the zip of his hoodie between his thumb and forefinger. “I hope you don’t mind me showing up like this.”

Mind? Did Alex really just ask that? He’d been dreaming of this moment for months now.

He also didn’t really know how to put that into words in his current state of shock, so he did the next best thing. He stepped down onto the dry ground and immediately pulled Alex into his arms. 

Alex took all of a second to reciprocate the hug as he melted against Michael’s chest.

It was cold outside, winter drawing to its peak and showing its first signs of snow, but being in Alex’s arms was the warmest he had felt in a while.

“You’re here.” Michael mumbled against Alex’s shoulder and he felt him chuckle.

“Well, I have a few days leave and I was promised an invite.” Alex replied softly.

Oh god. This was it, the official house warming personally tailored to Alex. And everything was a mess. Turns out getting a new place doesn’t stop old habits from taking hold and barely a week after he moved in there was paperwork all over the desk and clothes strewn across the bathroom floor. It hadn’t exactly gotten better since then.

Michael reluctantly broke the hug, bringing his hands down to gently link with Alex’s.

“It’s a bit of a mess.” He muttered playfully causing Alex to giggle, the enormity of the moment getting too much for him.

“I don’t mind.” 

Nodding to himself, Michael turned and led Alex into the airstream, waiting for the boy to close the door behind him before he spoke. “So, what do you think?”

“It’s…” Alex hesitated, glancing around at the cluttered desk and the half opened drawers and Michael felt so embarrassed. It looked so much worse than he remembered it being before he opened the door two minutes ago.

“I know it’s not much.” He offered grudgingly.

“No it’s…very you.” Alex said, smiling widely as he stepped closer. “I really like it.”

Really? Michael was going to ask. But it only took one look to get lost in Alex’s eyes and all words were suddenly forgotten.

Alex took another step to close the gap between them and slowly leant forward, his eyes not leaving Michael’s lips. Talking could come later, this is what they had really been missing.

It’s their smiles that touched first, excitement rushing through them making them giddy. But then as Michael’s lips parted and Alex leaned closer, it was as though time stood still. They had been waiting for this moment, longing for it for months.

Michael’s stomach fluttered at the familiar feeling of Alex’s hair under his fingertips, the soft lips against his own. He could practically feel Alex reflecting back at him every feeling of want and desperation that had occurred with every new letter and he had to half open his eyes to make sure he wasn’t dreaming.

However long Alex was home for, Michael planned to make the most of every single second.

May 2010

Michael took another swig of beer as he watched the last rays of light disappear beyond the horizon. He had driven out into the desert hours ago with the strong desire to get so blackout drunk he wouldn’t be able to remember his own name.

He couldn’t do it at the Wild Pony with its many prying eyes and the airstream just felt too small tonight.  So instead, he had parked the truck at a spot that he and Alex used to frequent when they had wanted to be alone.

Alex had taken longer than usual to reply, but Michael understood - between the two of them, Alex’s duty to Uncle Sam would have to take precedence. It just made the warmth that each letter provided that much stronger.

But today’s letter was different and all the wrong feelings had taken root. Fear, sadness, loss. They were swirling around his mind and sitting on his chest and no amount of alcohol seemed to banish them.

Because for the first time since they had begun writing, the return address on the envelope had not read United States, but Afghanistan.

Michael had barely registered Alex’s words during the first read through with his imagination going into overdrive, but taking a deep breath he had sat on the bed and forced himself to focus.

I can’t really give you any details, Alex had said.

I’ll be okay, he was brave enough to promise.

But he couldn’t promise that. Not really. Michael had done his research over the past two years, frantically gathering every measly scrap of information that the search engine could offer. He had seen the number of deaths to come out of every combat zone, read the stories of those whose lives would never be the same again and had the nightmares of every worst possible outcome.

The Air Force doesn’t deploy as long as the Army, but every second that Alex was on war-torn soil increased the risk of him not making it home. It was going to happen at some point, Alex’s first overseas deployment. Michael had just really been hoping for Spain or Turkey. Not this.

He had convinced himself that he would be prepared. That he would be rational and calm and wouldn’t jump to conclusions or freak out. Clearly he was better at lying to himself than he realised.

He didn’t know why he was feeling so sorry for himself. He wasn’t the one being sent halfway across the world to dutifully serve his country. No, Michael was stuck at home, waiting for the outcome.

It was dark now, his mini camping lantern emitting the only glow of light, but he had plenty of beers to keep him going through the night. He’d reply tomorrow - or the day after once his head had cleared. But for now he just wanted to forget everything and let the world fall away.

And maybe if he was inebriated enough it would keep the nightmares at bay. 

August 2010

To anyone who asked, Michael was a stoic twenty year old who didn’t engage in something so pathetic as having emotions.

But to himself, he would reluctantly have to admit they often played a part in many of his life choices. 

Like the big choices that had been fuelled by pain and confusion, standing in the middle of the desert with his two remaining family members standing by. Or the smaller choices made in the dead of night encouraged by a sappy romantic notion he had witnessed in one of Isobel’s romcoms.

Small, but no less important.

Like the decision to fill a shoebox with dried petals to help rid it of the musty smell that often accompanied any container that had been closed for too long.

He dedicated an entire day to researching flowers, finding out how to preserve them and which ones gave off the best scent.

Hydrangeas were a strong contender. Their pastel hues of purple and blue would add a nice drop of colour to the box and they were one of the easiest flowers to preserve. But they would last less than a year and Michael didn’t want to run the risk of the petals flaking into a hundred pieces and ruining the box.

Chrysanthemums were next on the list. The drying method seemed simple enough and though the petals were fairly small, they came in a whole host of vibrant colours. They were also the official flower for mother’s day in Australia and though the country itself meant nothing to him, it would give the petals a bittersweet double meaning. A way of keeping two separate loves alive alongside each other. Everything about them seemed perfect and several nearby florists even had them in stock ready for him to collect that day but when he stumbled upon a website stating that they also symbolised death they were instantly scratched off the list.

Pansies or larkspurs or little cuttings of lavender were all possibilities but they just didn’t feel right.

He didn’t want to become a stereotypical old romantic but his mind kept wandering to the roses. The elegant petals would sit nicely atop the letters and the sweet, fresh scent would be a pleasant addition to the box. Their frequent association with all things love and romance fell alongside the lesser known connotation of secrecy and confidentiality, words that all seemed to sum up the box completely.

The drying process would take time but it would be time well spent. Not to mention the intricate symbolism linked with each soft colour would add an extra touch to the box.

Red was a given with its instant connection to love.

Pink meant grace and gratitude and though he most certainly lacked one, he was definitely filled with the other. Every letter that arrived at his door was further proof that Alex was still alive and as long as they kept coming he would be eternally grateful.

Oranges roses were the symbol of passion and enthusiasm and while you could definitely use both of those words in relation to the last time he had seen Alex, the letters felt more innocent than that.

That didn’t necessarily mean that white roses were the way to go though, with their implication of innocence and purity. Not even he could kid himself that much.

With his mind made up, he grabbed his hat and headed out to engage in a spot of criminal activity.

Was it technically a crime though to cut someone else’s flowers? I mean how could Mrs Wilson really own her rose bushes when they belonged to Mother Nature first.

He wouldn’t have even thought about taking someone else’s, but the internet had very clearly specified that home grown roses were much better than shop bought flowers and who was he to argue with that?

It was mid-morning on a Wednesday so no one was around to see him attack the hedge with some clippers. It would have been a lot easier to literally be a thief in the night, but roses were best picked before the midday sun had a chance to warm their delicate petals. Any later in the day and they would lose their fragrance, so daylight robbery was the way to go.

He snipped at the branches, grumbling as his fingers caught the sharp thorns protruding from the stems, and once he had retrieved the optimum amount of red and pink flowers he headed back to the airstream to begin the lengthy drying process.

It would take a few days but the outcome would be worth it.

February 2011

The sight of one man should not leave Michael freezing in his tracks. He was an alien for God's sake. A superior species with actual powers.

Who the hell was Jesse Manes compared to that? An old man with a limited wardrobe and receding hairline? A divorced father of four kids who hated him? A nameless soldier overshadowed by his peers?

No, Jesse Manes was a respected member of the community, known and loved by all. A loyal airman with several commendations under his belt. An intimidating man prepared to brutally disfigure the hand of a child and easily get away with it.

Why Alex would choose to follow in his footsteps he would never understand.

Michael hadn’t seen Alex’s father since the night in the toolshed. The night he ruined what, up until that point, had been a perfect day. And he destroyed so much more than Michael’s hand that night. He destroyed the memory of his and Alex’s first time together, the possibility of him using a guitar to quiet the world around him, the opportunity for a roof over his head.

He had destroyed the chance for Michael to heal and move on and gain some faith back in humanity.

And three years later, here he was across the street from Michael’s truck, sitting at the window of the Crashdown, keeping Michael frozen to his seat.

He was supposed to be meeting Max for lunch in ten minutes, but there was no way he could go inside now.

Maybe Alex’s father wouldn’t even remember him. He had only seen him one time, several years ago. He couldn’t possibly have committed Michael’s face to memory in the three minutes they had shared a space together. But then again, Michael couldn’t imagine he went around hitting kids with hammers all that often so maybe it had been a memorable night for him. 

Whether it had had impact on Jesse Manes or not, Michael still remembered it vividly.

The way the door slammed open and Alex flinched away from his touch. The quiver in Alex’s voice as Manes picked up the hammer. The sight of Alex whimpering as his father’s hand squeezed around his throat. The pain filled shout Michael could barely make out over the sound of his own bones cracking.

In shock and in agony, he vaguely recalls being thrown out of the shed and staggering to his truck, but admittedly that part was still blurry.

To this day though, he still didn’t know what happened to Alex once he’d gone. They had never really talked about that night, not properly at least. Alex had been very eager to check how his hand was healing or offer to take him to a doctor, but always reluctant to discuss what he’d endured.

In all honesty, Michael still didn’t know if Jesse had done anything to Alex but it was always his suspicion. He’d recognised the fury in the older man’s eyes to know that that anger needed an outlet and Michael’s hand probably hadn’t been enough.

His hand ached suddenly at the memory and he clenched it hard in a useless attempt to make it stop. It had been hurting a lot lately, seizing up and making it impossible to do anything.

Max had offered to heal it a number of times but he still refused. He’d tell himself that it was because of Alex. How would he explain a perfectly healed hand to the guy who had witnessed the brutality it had suffered?

But if he ever decided to admit the truth to himself, he’d accept that really it was all for self preservation. A constant reminder moulded under his skin of what humans were really like. A way of reminding him not to get too close to people, not to let them into his life.

Clearly, Alex was the exception to this rule and Michael honestly couldn’t explain why. Right from the start their connection had just been something else. Something unexplainable.

Feeling the panic starting to bubble in his chest, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

He could text Max. The I’m held up at the junkyard excuse would keep him busy long enough for the police officer’s lunch break to end. He could dodge the bullet completely that way and just make it up to him tomorrow.

Or would that be like letting Jesse Manes win? What would he even be winning? There was no way that man remembered who Michael was.

Looking over to the window again, he watched as Alex’s father handed something to the waitress.

Was he really going to let his past trauma dictate where he could have lunch?

At the moment? Yes.

Sliding his phone out of his front pocket, he unlocked it quickly and opened the messenger app, his thumb hovering over Max’s name but then he had an idea.

He clicked on the little notepad icon and began to type.

Alex’s latest letter arrived last week and was still awaiting a reply and what better time to write one than when you’re freaking out slightly at the sight of a man who had once attacked you.

He barely noticed the autocorrect working hard to fix his many mistakes, he just needed to get the words out.

He didn’t mention Jesse, deciding to steer clear of the man entirely and focus on the positives instead. Alex was free from his father’s harsh rules and strict parenting for the time being so there was no point wasting his words on a man he most likely didn’t want to hear about.

It was overly sentimental and he’d probably edit it massively before writing it up, but for now he impulsively typed up everything he wanted to say. Everything he would say if Alex was sitting next to him right now.

 Dear Alex,

Glad to see that you’re stateside again, it stressed me out every day you were overseas.

I’m really happy that you’ve settled in with the work you’re doing and I’ve almost come to terms with the fact that your job is going to be dangerous at times, but that still doesn’t stop me worrying about it. And even after all this time you’ve been away, it’s still weird to not have you here. 

Everything has been reminding me of you recently, which is both beautiful and horrible because at least you’re here when you’re not here. But you’re not here and I really wish you were. Like when a song by that band you like comes on the radio, or if I walk past the Emporium, or I order a milkshake at the Crashdown or even just seeing Maria at the Wild Pony.

Max was telling me the other day about this kid who reported his guitar stolen and I couldn’t help but think back to when I stole yours. Well, I say stole, I promise I really was just borrowing it. I knew it was yours though and part of me definitely wanted you to find out that I had taken it, anything to get you to notice me. The offer of somewhere to sleep was completely unexpected though and proves just what a good person you are. I took your belongings and in return you gave me shelter and I don’t think I thanked you enough for that.

You’re in every corner of this town for me Alex and I know we didn’t have long but the time that we spent together before you left were some of the best days of my life.

I miss you.

Come back soon.

Michael

As he reached the last sentence, a knock on the passenger side window made him jump.

Max, in his uniform and hat, lifted his hand in a halfhearted wave and tilted his head towards the Crashdown as if to say are you coming?

A quick final glance through the window showed no sign of Jesse Manes and Michael slowly let out a breath he hadn’t realised he was holding.

September 2011

“This is a good look for you.” Michael whispered.

“What, naked?” Alex smiled softly, peering sleepily back at him. 

Michael began to lightly trail his hand down Alex’s chest, watching Alex close his eyes at the sensation. “Naked. In my bed.”

Alex had shown up at his doorstep late last night, this time with some warning in his latest letter, and they hadn’t wasted any time. So fuelled with longing and desire, Michael couldn’t remember a second of last night where their bodies hadn’t been touching.

Looking at Alex now, with his perfect bed head and sun kissed skin, Michael wasn’t sure he was going to be able to let him leave.

He did have something important to talk to Alex about though. Something they had never really discussed that had been leaving Michael feeling very confused lately. He was twenty-one years old having the awkward teenage thought of are we together or is this just a bit of fun? Is this guy my boyfriend? Can I even say the word boyfriend without freaking him out?

“There was something I meant to talk to you about last night-” He began, propping himself up on his elbow.

“Did we actually talk at all last night?”

“Are you complaining?”

“No.” Alex smiled, holding his lip between his teeth. “Go on, what did you want to say?”

“You know I do have a phone, right? An actual expensive one and everything thanks to Isobel buying it for me. So you can text me, instead of spending weeks waiting for a reply.”

Alex paused for a moment. How was it best to tell Michael without looking weak? How during Basic Training one nosy guy thought it would be fun to take his unlocked phone and look through his messages. How he was terrified of being outed that day and that fear had followed him through his few years of serving. How even though his letters are technically much easier to read, the lock on the box they were kept in is so thick you would need to have a bolt cutter handy to break it. Or the key, which was kept in a very secure location.

“There’s something more…personal, about writing a letter. ” He decided to go with. “Besides, phones can get hacked.” 

“Who the hell is gonna want to hack into your phone?”

Alex shrugged with a smirk, “I’m just saying, after learning what I have in training, hacking your phone right now would be a piece of cake.”

“Right, and these hackers would want to, what? Use all our discussions about broken alien statues and nights out in the desert against us.”

“There are some terrible people out there.” The fake sincerity in Alex’s eyes as he nodded his head made Michael chuckle.

Alex pushed himself up fully in the bed, letting the sheets pool around his naked hips. He leant forward and Michael didn’t need to be asked twice to drop the subject and meet him halfway. As much as he loved last night, their slow morning kisses were even better. Soft and all smiles, filled with the gratitude that they were still sharing this moment together.

“I’m sorry I was late last night, the move this week has been busier than I expected.” Alex whispered between pecks.

“It’s okay, I’m just glad you made it. Where are you based now?”

“Maryland. Probably just for a month or so though until I get more permanent orders.”

Leaning back, Michael could see the weariness in Alex’s eyes. He knew that being in the military was a hard job - even harder if you had been forced into it - and Michael hated just how much responsibility had been put on Alex’s young shoulders.

His eyes twinkled as he got an idea, a way of lightening Alex’s load for a few hours. “You fancy going out tonight?” 

Alex’s face dropped and Michael’s heart along with it. “Like, together?”

“No, I figured we’d go to different bars and get drunk separately.” Michael replied sarcastically. 

This is not what he had expected. Alex saying no to a night out? Fine, not a problem, wouldn’t have been that surprising of an answer. Maybe he doesn’t fancy a drink, maybe he’s just not into partying anymore.

But was Alex saying no to them going out together?

“Is it because of me?” Michael could hear the anger beginning to grow in his tone but he couldn’t help it. This conversation had flipped completely out of nowhere. “When I told you about the whole drunk cowboy reputation I’ve gained, it was meant to make you laugh. Not make you ashamed of me.”

“I’m not ashamed!” Alex defensively shook his head.

“Then what is it? Cos I like doing this Alex, but I need to know what it is that we’re actually doing, where we’re going with it. Are we going anywhere with it?”

“I don’t know what you want me to say Guerin! Things are complicated right now.”

I want you to say you want to be with me! I want you to tell me you love me as much as I love you! Michael hadn’t expected for this to turn into an argument, but he was prepared to cause one if it meant getting answers.

But as he took a breath, he looked at Alex. Like properly looked at him. He had grown up so much since they’d last seen each other. He’d changed so much. But for the first time he was the one who was looking unsure about what to say.

The defensive hunch of his shoulders, the nervous look in his eyes. It reminded Michael so much of when Alex had first told him he was leaving. And those goddamn hubcaps.

This was the second time he had caused that look in Alex’s eyes and if he never saw it again it would be too soon. He still had a few days before Alex was going to leave him again and he should be making the most of them instead of pushing him away.

If Alex was unsure of what they were doing then so be it. They would have to discuss it at some point this weekend, for Michael’s own sanity more than anything, but for now he would have to let it go if it meant keeping Alex happy.

January 2012

Earth wasn’t his home.

He knew that. He’s known that since he woke up in a glowing alien pod. But it’s only through life’s lessons over the years that he’s really learnt that.

He didn’t belong here, with an inferior species that enjoyed hurting others simply because of who they were. He’d seen it happen in shops and on the street. People targeted for being different. It was such a human response and he shuddered at the thought of what it meant for them if their secret ever came out.

And who was keeping him here? Max and Isobel? Alex?

Him and Isobel were close, but she had her own life. Parents that loved her, a boyfriend she was besotted with. She didn’t need Michael hanging around, bringing her down.

His feelings on Max were like a sliding scale of rage. The other man had been acting like his father for most of his life, telling him what to do and how to live. Max says they should cover up Rosa’s death. Max says they should keep what they are a secret. Max, with his fancy job and respected standing in society. Michael didn’t need his help anymore or his pity.

And then there was Alex. The boy who made him believe there was a place for him on Earth. But now, Michael wasn’t so sure.The last time he had seen Alex in person, things hadn’t ended that great and though they’ve still been writing to each other, something had definitely changed. They had changed.

Michael reminded himself of all this as he climbed down the stairs into the junkyard’s fallout shelter.

He had discovered the hidden bunker one day after slipping away from Sanders during work hours to hunt for some more copper wire. The opening had been covered by a beaten up truck that had been sitting in the junkyard for years, he wasn’t sure if the old man even knew it was down there.

From that day on he had claimed it as his own, making sure it was covered every time he left.

His collection had started off small. A few legit pieces of alien artefact that he had stolen from the Emporium and the odd dark web purchase, but after a few stealthy ventures to the UFO crash site he had begun to discover even more fragments. Considering the people of Roswell had been obsessing over the crash since 1947, Michael was honestly surprised that not every piece of the ship had been excavated already.

Luckily for him, his latest night time search in the desert had proven successful and he had made it back to the bunker with two small glowing pieces.

Building up the secret bunker’s workshop had taken time and a few stolen supplies, but now there were tools and shelves and bulbs in the mismatched lighting decor that had thankfully already been installed.

Littering the worktops were sketches and blueprints of the measurements and calculations he had spent months working on. There were spools of tubing and a portable generator sitting on the shelf. But his prized possession resting on one of the tables was his slowly forming alien spaceship. He was pretty sure what he was building was the console, but maybe one day it would turn into the entire spacecraft.

Covered in alien symbols and shimmering to the touch, it could be his way off of this stupid planet.

Michael gently took the pieces out of his pocket and held them close to the ship. One did nothing, staying stubbornly in his palm, but the other rose into the air and delicately travelled to one of the broken sides, a faint blue glistening the surface as the sharp edges knitted together like they had never been broken. 

Placing the remaining piece on the table, Michael sighed. One day he would find all the pieces and finish this. And when that day came, there would be nothing to keep him here.

October 2012

“You’re staying whether you like it or not.” Isobel gave him a pointed look as she rummaged through the crates of decorations piled on the table in front of her. 

“Yeah Michael, it’ll be fun.” Max said enthusiastically, holding a fist under his chin and batting his eyelids. A move they had both seen Isobel pull several times when mocking her mother. 

She smacked Max on the arm, furious that he would belittle all of her hard work, before shoving a large plastic box into his chest. “The crop circle exhibit needs more bats.”

Her brother took the box with an exaggerated sigh but obliged nevertheless. He had learnt long ago that when Isobel was running things you either got on with it or got the hell out of her way. 

With one brother now busy, she moved onto the next. “Right, there’s a few banners that need putting up and then you can go get changed.”

Her demand was met with silence which worried Isobel greatly and when she glanced up from her checklist, she didn’t appreciate the confused look in Michael’s eyes. “Please tell me you have a costume. It’s Halloween Michael!”

“I didn’t exactly plan on staying, Isobel!” he retaliated. He’d been asked to come and fix the glitchy projector in the knock-off Men In Black room, not spend all night with a bunch of people he didn’t know, surrounded by dumb gimmicky aliens. “Why did you choose to have it here anyway? Isn’t it a bit degrading to us as a species?” 

“I didn’t choose it. The Emporium wanted a Halloween event and I’m just part of the committee running it.” She ticked off another item on her list, not rising to his provocation. “Now, go help Max.”

Accepting an easy defeat, Michael took the closest pile of decorations and headed to the exhibit. There were several people milling around each room of the Emporium, all engaged in one task or another. A group of middle aged women were rigorously dusting the artefact cabinets and two guys he vaguely recognised from around town were fixing lighting rigs to the ceiling. 

His heart skipped a beat as he reached the UFO room, his eyes drawn immediately to the spot where he and Alex shared their first kiss. He had been so nervous that day, tentatively grabbing the other boy’s face before he could talk himself out of it, praying that Alex wouldn’t pull away.

Through the red fabric curtains at the back of the room was the crop circle exhibit. It was completely empty of people save for Max attempting to loop a small fuzzy bat around one of the hanging lights.

Taking pity on him, Michael willed the creature to float the extra few inches and fasten itself around the wire. It had been a while since he’d used his powers in a public setting and it gave him such a rush to get away with it unseen. It was quite embarrassing really. It’s not like he was committing a crime in the middle of a police station. Unless you were looking closely, the fact that some objects floated when he was nearby was actually surprisingly easy to miss.

Max’s head immediately whipped round, eyes wide with trepidation. “Dude, what if someone walks in?”

“Chill, Deputy. We’re safe.” Michael rolled his eyes as he began to stroll around the room. He hadn’t been in here since Alex’s last day and literally nothing had changed. I mean, fair enough, there hadn’t exactly been any more alien encounters since then to add to the exhibition. But they could have put some effort in and switched things up a bit.

As he turned to speak to Max his foot caught something, but without hesitation his telekinesis acted fast to catch the alien statue mid-fall. Settling it back on its two feet with his mind, Michael chuckled to himself as he realised exactly what it was that he had knocked over. Turns out the little guy did still have his head on backwards.

It had been four years since Alex’s last day working the ticket booth, when they had sneaked inside during his lunch break to passionately kiss in the dark corners of the museum. If Michael hadn’t been so distracted that day he would have caught the alien before it had a chance to decapitate itself and ruin his make out session.

They had frantically tried to re-attach it, getting their fingers covered in the glue. But alas, as an excitable eighteen year old, Michael had been too focused on the boy he was with to notice he was putting the head on backwards.

Four years and nobody had dealt with the owl impersonating alien. The Emporium really was going downhill.

“You know, if you don’t want to stay I’ll cover for you with her majesty.” Max interrupted his thoughts as he took a banner from the pile still bunched in Michael’s arms and surveyed the room to decide where best to hang it.

“Nah, it’s alright. Can’t leave you without a wingman, can I?” Michael playfully raised an eyebrow as he dumped the pile on the floor and grabbed the other end of the banner.

“I’m serious Michael. You don’t actually have to do as she says you know.” Max grinned at him, hooking his side onto one of the picture frames hanging on the wall and watching Michael do the same.

Michael looked over at his friend. When the day began he had planned to end it in the airstream, drunk on whiskey and in bed with a beautiful stranger. But standing in front of him was his chance to do something different for a change, to spend some time with the only family he had left and maybe even remember it all in the morning.

“I know. But maybe you’re right. It could be fun.”

March 2013

So it was letters like these that made Michael feel guilty about how he’d been spending his time. Or more specifically who he’d been spending his time with.

For the first time in years he could go entire weeks without thinking of Alex once and the odd drunken hookup definitely helped to keep his mind off the boy who barely wrote to him anymore.

It had become a recurring thing for him, much to the chagrin of Isobel who vehemently disapproved of his life choices. She couldn’t understand why Michael wouldn’t want to find someone special and settle down with them. But he wouldn’t expect any less from the girl who was so head over heels in love with her boyfriend.

Isobel had Noah, and Michael?

Michael had Vicky. Last night.

They met at the Pony, as these stories often started for him, and had enjoyed a very long, very sensual night together within the small confines of the airstream.

She made him coffee in the morning, engaged in an appropriate amount of small talk, then left. A perfect night by all accounts, so why couldn’t the rest of his day be perfect too?

When the mailman loudly interrupted his work on his latest batch of sketches he had been tempted not to answer. When he immediately recognised Alex’s handwriting on the front of the envelope he had been very tempted not to open it.

One day he would stop giving in to his feelings for Alex. Today was not that day.

Dear Michael,

I saw someone die today.

I feel kind of numb right now which doesn’t seem right to me, but it’s like I can’t tell what emotion I should be feeling, so I’m just hoping that getting the words onto paper might help get them out of my head.

I don’t know whether I’m supposed to have been prepared for it or not, I mean it’s an occupational hazard that I signed up for so I should be fine, right? I’ve been in Iraq for almost two months now, on my second deployment, and yet this is the first time I’ve actually seen someone get killed right in front of me. So does that make me lucky to have gone this long without it happening?

I could have saved him. If I had just been closer, if I had gotten there quicker, he probably wouldn’t have died. But then if I was closer I probably wouldn’t be writing this right now so I guess I am the lucky one.

I hadn’t known him long but he was a good kid, always hard at work, always looking out for everyone. He was younger than me.

The guys are so quiet. Nobody knows what to do with themselves and this bit I’m strangely used to. It’s not the first time someone I know has been killed and things can’t come to a stop while we’re out here no matter the circumstances. But for a short while after something like this happens it’s like the light inside of everyone just disappears. Like we’re reminded all over again of how quickly things can change here.

We’ll be okay though, we’ll pick each other up and move on. But we’ll never forget him.

They’ll never forget his service. And I’ll never forget what I saw.

I’m sorry, it’s selfish to burden you with this but I just really needed to tell someone.

Hope everything is okay in Roswell.

Stay safe,

Alex.

And just like that Michael was drawn back into the little Alex loving bubble he had been desperately trying to pop.

Stay safe. He writes an entire letter about seeing someone die and he tells Michael to stay safe. And if that didn’t sum up Alex he didn’t know what did. Always trying to look out for other people, even if it hurts him.

Michael re-read the line about being quicker, being closer and something tightens in his chest. He could still remember how guilty Alex had felt after the incident in the toolshed all those years ago, so Michael knew exactly how much Alex would be putting his colleague’s death on his shoulders right now. And if he had been close enough to help, Michael was well aware of how willingly he would have sacrificed himself to keep his teammates safe.

He didn’t even know that Alex was in Iraq. Their communication had slowed so much recently and this entire time Michael had chalked it up to him no longer wanting to keep in contact but maybe this was why he hadn’t been writing.

It reminded him yet again of how little he really knew about Alex’s job and the things he had to face. As much as he would love it, he could hardly expect constant letters with updates of every little part of Alex’s life.

But he could support him. From the safety of his airstream where there were no bullets flying and people dying around him, he could listen to what Alex had to say no matter how long it took to arrive.

His sleeping around had been a poor attempt of cleansing Alex and the war he was fighting from his mind, but Alex would never get that luxury. Not until he was out of the Air Force and back home at least.

The fear of Alex dying was at the forefront of his thoughts once more, but maybe it was a good thing - the kind of fear that propels you forward and gives you hope that things will change. Habits were hard to break but maybe he would take Isobel’s advice and wait for his someone special to make it home.

August 2013

Friday night at the Wild Pony brought out all manner of locals. Friends reuniting after being away for months, married couples taking the time to cool off after a long week at work, the happy drunks, the racist drunks, and already at the bar being served his first drink of the evening, the lonely cowboy.

Max’s shift didn’t end for another hour, but Michael figured there wouldn’t be any harm in getting to the Pony early. He had a higher tolerance than Max anyway so it was better to get a head start.

As he was lifting his first alcohol filled glass to his lips he heard the voice of someone he hadn’t seen in five years. He barely suppressed a groan as he sneaked a glimpse to his left.

“More tequila’s please, Maria.” The man’s voice dripped with confidence.

Michael watched as he placed a tray of empty shot glasses on the bar top before leaning forward, his forearms dropping heavily onto the wood.

Maria took the tray with a smile and got to work.

“Guerin. Still in Roswell, I see.” He said casually, turning to look at Michael. 

“Valenti. Still a dick, I see.” Michael replied, giving his best fake smile.

Kyle’s brow furrowed in surprise at the attitude being directed towards him. He must have remembered Michael’s reputation from school, but he clearly hadn’t expected to be on the receiving end of it half a decade later.

“How have you been?” He continued regardless, somewhat optimistic in the face of Michael’s pre-drunk demeanour. Maria unscrewed the bottle cap and Michael could see her watching them carefully as if they were the main feature of her Wild Pony nature documentary.

“Since when do you care?” Michael remarked tightly, smile still plastered on his face and when Kyle scoffed and looked away, Michael was almost disappointed. The guy from high school would have had him on his ass by now.

“Whatever.” Kyle muttered just as Maria filled the last glass. He slapped some money onto the bar, sliding it forward to meet Maria’s waiting hand and she took it gratefully, put it straight in the till.

“See you around.” He spoke to no-one in particular before leaving with the tray, though not fast enough in Michael’s opinion.

Maria rolled her eyes as she put the tequila bottle back on the shelf. “What did Kyle ever do to you?”

“Do you not remember him in high school?” Michael asked, glancing over his shoulder at where Kyle was handing out the shot glasses round the table. It wasn’t a surprise to see that he was still Mr Popular with the big group of friends.

“Oh no, I remember him. I just don’t remember you ever talking to him.”

“Didn’t have to talk to him to know he was an asshole.” Michael muttered as he downed the last of his drink.

He’d witness enough of his taunting to know exactly what kind of person Kyle Valenti was. He was the cliche jock surrounded by a constant posse of football players, using his popularity to get away with bullying innocent kids.

Nerdy kids whose fear of authority and eagerness to please everyone would be taken advantage of.

Poor kids whose worn down shoes and too small clothes would be an instant target on their backs.

Gay kids who did absolutely nothing to deserve the brunt of Kyle’s torment for so many years. Gay kids who could also pack a mean punch when it really came down to it. 

Kyle had made it his mission in high school to ruin Alex’s life and Michael would never forgive him for it. Simple as that.

“What is he even doing here anyway?”

Maria picked up the closest bottle of whiskey and refilled his glass. He didn’t know whether to be flattered or embarrassed at how well she knew his drinking habits.

“He’s been travelling to visit family but now he’s back for a few weeks to see some friends before his next year of med school starts.” Maria answered easily, letting out a huff of laughter as Michael narrowed his eyes in confusion. “When you’re this side of the bar, people tell you everything…like I’m sure you’ll be doing soon enough.”

Michael smirked as he took another swig of whiskey. It burned in his chest before settling uneasily in his stomach. “You love it Deluca, don’t try and deny it.”

Taking another look behind him, Michael watched as Kyle spoke, gesturing wildly with his arms as his words held the attention of everyone circled around him. He looked no different from high school, same dark quiff styled neatly with gel, same bulging muscles on show under his tight fitting top, same punchable face.

Watching Alex take a swing at Kyle during prom had been a very proud moment for Michael - and he had barely even known Alex by that point. If he hadn’t been worried that Alex would get hurt, Michael would have gladly watched him punch Kyle for the rest of the evening.

“I think he’s changed, you know.” Maria interrupted his thoughts as she wiped down the bar top in front of him. Her bracelets jangled noisily with every movement. “College has been good for him.”

Michael watched as she ran her necklace between her fingers and went about collecting the empty beer bottles sitting at the end of the bar. “Kyle Valenti will never change.” 

Deep down a tiny part of him would admit that Maria was right. Since leaving high school everyone he’s known has changed in some way or another - normally for the better as they grow out of their ignorant, childish ways. But he just couldn’t imagine golden boy Kyle Valenti turning his life around that much. And even though one day Alex, with his heart of gold, will probably end up forgiving Kyle, Michael never would.

June 2014

“I’m just saying, if Noah expects me to take it easy with this wedding organisation, he’s got another thing coming.” Isobel spoke animatedly as the three of them walked down the street. “I am practically the unofficial Roswell party planning committee after all.”

“Isn’t a committee normally a group of people?” Max quizzed, moving out of the way for a little boy on his bike that was riding towards them.

“Not what you’re supposed to be taking from this conversation, Max.” Isobel glared at him. “I got proposed to guys!”

“Yeah, we got that from the first fifty times you told us.” Michael remarked, righting the cowboy hat that had slipped down on his head.

“Well, I’m allowed to be excited!”

Max gave his sister a fond smile. “Of course you are. But I think any more wedding talk today will literally melt Michael’s brain.”

It had been over a week since Noah had gotten down on one knee and Max and Michael had heard every possible recounting of the evening along with every guest list suggestion, every wedding hairstyle idea, even every floral arrangement possibility. As a couple, they had barely had a chance to set a date, yet Isobel was now firmly stuck in wedding planner mode.

It was Max who had put forward that the three of them meet up. It was his first day off after a busy week of shifts and it was warm out, though the suggestion to make the most of the sun was also a ploy to force Isobel to take a break from her obsessing. But unfortunately the wedding seemed to have followed them.

It didn’t really bother them though as they strolled through town, soaking up the warmth of the rays and enjoying each other’s company. Isobel was happy and in love and it was exactly what she deserved.

As they neared the end of the road, they reached the Crashdown. The cafe was a hubbub of happy, smiling customers and servers in their uniforms and antennae, but it was hard to miss the derogatory, racist words spray painted across the windows. Michael didn’t envy the poor waiter who was desperately scrubbing at them with soapy water.

Every year on the anniversary of Rosa Ortecho’s death the Crashdown was vandalised and every year it hurt more and more to witness.

Arturo Ortecho didn’t deserve the hate he got because of what happened to his daughter. He didn’t deserve for his livelihood, his home to be wrecked every year because of a choice Isobel made. A choice they all made.

After the fateful night six years ago, they had sworn to each other they would not set foot in the Crashdown again, to separate themselves from the Ortecho’s completely. But over the years, whether it be from guilt or concern, they had never been able to keep that promise.

“Let’s go in,” Max said after a moment of staring inside.

“Max-” Michael warned. He was all for keeping up appearances but today of all days they ought to be keeping a low profile when it came to the Crashdown.

“We should show our support. It’s the least we can do.” Max turned to look at him pointedly. And as much as Michael hated it, he was right. They had managed to keep the events of that night a secret for so long now. Avoiding the place once a year wasn’t really going to have as big an impact as they liked to think it would.

And being the cause of Mr Ortecho’s suffering, it was the least they could do.

Entering with a smile, they found a booth in the corner and Michael was made designated ‘seat saver’ as Max and Isobel went up to the counter. They all knew each other’s orders off by heart, but neither sibling wanted to run the risk of potentially running into Arturo alone for fear of not knowing what to say.

Michael watched as the waiter outside finished with one window and moved onto the next.

He was lucky in a way. He could go months without thinking about what they chose to do to those three girls. How they covered up the murders and framed an innocent for it. He doubted Arturo ever had the pleasure of forgetting about the death of his eldest daughter.

And now, as he tried to forget once more about certain events of that night, his mind was drawn to the other life changing incident and his worry for Alex reignited all over again. He had been able to protect Alex from his father back then, but whilst they were on two separate continents, Michael was powerless.

Not that he thought Alex needed his protection. Michael knew just how strong he was, but the job of an airman was unpredictable.

In an attempt to calm his mind, he thought back to the letter he had received yesterday and tried to recall the words it contained.

Dear Michael,

I can’t believe you managed to find work on Mr Anderson’s ranch! Or more specifically, I can’t believe he willingly hired you after the amount of trouble you caused him. I’m guessing you didn’t tell him that it was you that drove straight through his crop field or let all those horses out when we were younger? Because you know as well as I do, that man holds a grudge.

I’m glad you’re finding all this work. I used to worry that you wouldn’t realise how skilled you were so it’s nice to hear that people are actually appreciating your hard work.

I’ve spent the past week updating security measures here and the all-nighters are reminding me of high school before a math test or something. I think I actually used to go days without sleeping sometimes if I was trying to cram in revision and I honestly don’t know how I managed it back then. Teenage me was obviously a lot stronger.

There’s rumours that we could be heading back to North Dakota next month, but I’m not getting my hopes up. Germany’s not too bad, the people have been great and the food is delicious. On our down days we’ve been going to this cafe just outside of base. They have this type of iced coffee that tastes amazing and I’ve definitely had it far too much judging by the amount of teasing I get from my team every time I order it.

As nice as it is here though, it would be good to be back on home soil. I feel like I’ve been away from America for so long.

I’ll let you know if we do end up moving bases and maybe I’ll visit Roswell again soon.

Hope you’re okay.

From,

Alex.

Michael was pulled out of his thoughts as Max and Isobel took their seats. They were bickering about something or other and the familiarity forced all his worries to the back of his mind.

Alex would be home soon and Michael would be able to hold him in his arms and everything would be alright. And for now, he would make the most of his time with the rest of his family.

October 2014

Michael was warming himself by the fire when a car pulled up by the airstream. He had managed to find the old burn barrel at the junkyard a few months ago along with some mismatched chairs and lighting the fire had become a calming night time occurrence for him.

He brought the beer bottle to his lips and took a sip, wordlessly watching as Alex stepped out of the car and wandered over to him. He wasn’t sure why Alex was even here. The letters had been getting infrequent again, the enthusiasm dwindling, and Michael had been starting to suspect that their hearts were just no longer in it.

Alex had informed him that he was on leave for a few days and Michael had been happy, excited even. But at some point between this morning - where he had been frantically trying to calm his nerves as he tided up the place - to this evening, something had changed. He’d managed to overthink everything he’d been wanting to say to Alex for a long time now.

“Hey.” Alex smiled politely as he came to a stop by the fire. If he thought it strange that Michael hadn’t greeted him he didn’t mention it, but he did pause, hands clasped behind his back, almost waiting for permission to take a seat.

Michael took another gulp of beer, watching Alex carefully. “You can sit down you know.”

Alex didn’t need to be told twice, dropping into the seat closest to him. He looked older, the years of service catching up on him, hardening him against all that he had seen. 

“How have you been?” He asked. His voice was calm but Michael could see the wariness in his eyes. So he had noticed Michael’s rather frosty welcoming.

“Same as always.” Michael muttered, looking off into the distance.

“Are you okay-”

“What are you doing here, Alex?” Michael blurted out before he lost the nerve.

Alex’s eyes widened at the outburst, “Sorry, I thought you said I could drop by when I got back.”

“Okay fine, what are we doing here?” Michael rolled his eyes with an exasperated sigh, “I mean this thing we’re doing, is it real or just some hookup for when you come home?”

Alex recoiled at the accusation and Michael could feel the guilt creeping in once more at the hurt in Alex’s eyes. Okay so maybe that was a bit harsh, but there was no point dragging out this conversation for the next three days. Plus, he suspected his veins were filled more of alcohol than blood right now and when he was on a roll there was no stopping him.

“Last time you were here I tried to have this conversation with you and we got nowhere. That was years ago and we’re still dancing around it.”

“You know it’s not like that. The sex I mean. I don’t come here just to sleep with you, I come to see you.” The fire crackled loudly, the flames casting an orange glow over Alex as he spoke. “I’m sorry I haven’t been writing much lately. Your letters mean everything to me and I like doing this with you, but I just…”

“Just what?” Michael demanded. He could see Alex take a breath as he tried to word the next sentence correctly in his head.

“Anything could happen while I’m in the Air Force and I just don’t think you should pin your hopes on this.”

If Michael could stop with the tunnel vision for two seconds he would realise that Alex was trying to protect him, but all he heard was that Alex didn’t want to be with him, not properly at least. Not as his boyfriend, his partner, his other half.

Michael didn’t have an answer and Alex had no more to add.

They had barely spent five minutes in each other’s company after years apart and they’d already been rendered quiet. It isn’t how either of them had expected it to go. They sat in the uncomfortable silence, their gazes fixed on the fire but barely registering the flames licking the air. Neither wanted to make the first move.

The beautiful boy he had been in love with since they were seventeen had practically just told him that they would never be together and instead of feeling sad or desperate, Michael fell back to his default emotion. He was filled with so much anger he could practically feel it burning under his skin.

The moment he kissed Alex in the museum all those years ago he had seen the future they could have together, but now, in the cool autumn evening as he watched the tips of the flames reaching up to the sky, that dream was crumbling.

“Do you want me to go?” Alex asked faintly after a few minutes.

Yes! If you walk away now then I’ll have my final answer and it will make all of this so much easier.

“No.”

Alex had only just gotten there and as pissed off as Michael felt, the thought of him leaving again suddenly hurt like hell. “I miss you.” He whispered, struggling to make eye contact at the admission.

In his peripheral vision he could see Alex pause uneasily, almost waiting for another outburst, and when none came the airman replied with a wary smile. “Me too.”

May 2015

Another soda can went flying into the air and Max shot it down with trained precision. It almost hit Isobel on the way down who couldn’t hold back a squeal as she moved out of the way.

“I can’t believe you dragged me out here for this.” She huffed at the boys as she righted herself in the chair. Her plans for the weekend had involved shopping, TV and sleeping. It had been a long week and it was what she deserved. Instead, she was getting sand in her shoes and cans flung towards her face.

“You’re the one who said we should practice using our powers more.” Michael smirked, concentrating on the unopened can sitting on the desk inside the airstream. With barely any effort, he watched as it floated through the doorway and over towards Isobel.

“That was an excuse to get into Old Man Simmons’ head and you know it.” She narrowed his eyes at him but grabbed the can anyway. “Besides, isn’t there a more productive way to train?”

“What are you talking about? We used to do this all the time.” Max lifted the gun and signalled for Michael to throw the next can into the air.

“Yeah, when we were like seventeen. Don’t know if you noticed but we’re not kids anymore.”

“Tell me about it. Did you know Sheriff Valenti let me assist on another murder case last week. She said I’m showing potential.” 

“Bit of a morbid thing to brag about there, Deputy.” Michael grinned as he used his power to send the next can flying, trying to catch Max off guard with its speed. Max was too slow to hit it during its ascent, but before it touched the ground he had sent a bullet clean through it.

Michael whistled in amazement and clapped Max on the back. They may be adults now but hitting a target was just as exciting as when they were kids.

Isobel was less than impressed if the furrowed brow was anything to go by. She honestly couldn’t understand the desire to shoot things. “Great, you hit it. Can I go now?”

She made a point of checking the time on her phone with a sigh and Max gave Michael such a sibling look. The kind of look that clearly conveyed annoyance, irritation and the simple question of will she ever stop complaining.

“Will you lighten up Iz, it’s just a bit of fun.” Michael rolled his eyes dramatically. “Now hurry up and drink that, we’re gonna need it soon.”

He was about the throw another can when he noticed a white van driving up the path, recognising it immediately. He felt bad for the guy, having to come out to the middle of nowhere every month or so just to drop off a single letter.

He walked over to meet the mailman as he parked in front of them and gratefully took the letter passed to him through the open window.

“Who the hell is sending you mail?” Isobel leaned forward in her chair as the van drove off and Michael was worried for a second that she would get up and take it from him before he could stop her. She never did have good impulse control.

“It’s probably just junk.” He said dismissively, staring down at his name and address. He didn’t need to open it to know who it was from. He had literally never received a single letter from anyone else in his life.

He tried to plaster on his best nonchalant face as he jogged over to the airstream and prayed that the others wouldn’t ask questions. “It’s fine, I’ll check it later.”

Bypassing every surface entirely, knowing full well that if Isobel saw it on the desk she would open it, he opened the compartment above his bed. The cupboard had gotten more crowded over the years, but the shoebox still had its special little place inside. He looked down at the letter in his hand one more time, debating whether to just rip it open then and there, before sliding it on top of the box.

He’d read it later when he wasn’t busy.

September 2015

“Ahh Deluca. It’s been while.” Michael grinned as he took a seat at the bar. It was early evening on a Friday so the place was pretty packed, but luckily for him there was always a stool empty.

Maria grabbed a glass from the rack and the bottle of whiskey from behind her and began pouring. There were other servers behind the bar so she could afford to take her time conversing with this particular regular.

“Yes, surprisingly I did notice your absence from my bar recently and honestly I’m not sure who that looks worse for.”

“You. Definitely you.” Michael said dryly as he picked up the nearest coaster and began to twirl it between his fingers. “Besides if you were that desperate to see my ruggedly handsome face you wouldn’t have skipped your shift last Friday.”

“The fact that you know my shift pattern is not a good look for you Guerin.” Maria raised her eyebrows with a smirk. “Besides, I’m allowed a night off every now and then.”

“Oh yeah? To do what? Paint your nails? Have a nice little bubble bath? Some other girl related activity?”

“To see a friend actually. Because I have those.”

“You keep telling yourself that.” He muttered playfully and she moved forward to dramatically knock the coaster out of his hand.

“We had a lovely time, thank you for asking. He hasn’t been back home in ages so we decided to make a weekend of it.”

Michael froze at her words. There was really only one person she could be talking about but he asked the question anyway. “What friend is this?”

“Alex? Manes? He went to school with us. Former emo kid turned airman.” 

Michael’s mouth suddenly felt very dry and he couldn’t get his words out. He grabbed the drink that Maria had poured and took a large gulp. “Alex was here?”

“Yeah he had a few days leave so he came to see me. It was really sweet of him, I mean he’s worked hard for that time off and he could literally do anything with it but he chose to come here. I think he was missing home a bit actually.”

Michael bit his lip, almost enough to draw blood. He was suddenly filled with so much hurt he didn’t know what to do with it. “Was he okay?”

“Yeah. I think his work has been a bit tough recently but he seemed happy.” Maria smiled gently.

Seemed happy? Did that mean Alex was happy because he was home? Or because he was spending his time with someone other than Michael?

Michael was glad he was happy, of course he was glad. Alex’s happiness is all he’s ever wanted. And of course, he has a right to visit other friends, it was never Michael’s place to tell him not to. Even when he had stayed with Michael in the past, he had always made time to say hello to other friends before he had to leave again.

But this time he hadn’t even mentioned to Michael that he was coming home. Not a single word in any of the intermittent letters.

And maybe Michael was to blame. The last time they had seen each other hadn’t exactly been perfect. And recently he’d been putting off replying for weeks which Alex must have noticed. But he still always replied in the end! So that must have meant something, right? It must have proven to Alex that he still cared, that he would still want to spend time with him.

There was no way Alex could have known that he would find out. Michael had never properly mentioned the little love-hate friendship he had struck up with Maria over the years, so really Alex could never have predicted this. And that’s probably what he had wanted, to spend time in Roswell under the radar, away from Michael.

Should he be angry about this? Was he angry? Yes. He was probably being overdramatic but this seemed like the final nail in the coffin of their unspoken relationship.

Suddenly, he had the desperate urge to take his mind off everything he’d just heard so without thinking he turned to what he did best. Paying Maria half of what he owed for the drink, he locked eyes with a cute girl at the other end of the bar and eagerly slid off the stool, ready to make a night of it.

January 2016

Isobel grabbed his face and kissed him on the cheek before he could stop her. The fireworks exploding into a hundred sparks above their heads were loud, but the cheering from the mass of people crowded outside of the Pony seemed louder.

“Happy New Year!!” Isobel practically screamed in his ear before turning to plant an overly enthusiastic kiss on Noah’s lips. This was probably the most drunk he had ever seen Isobel and every second of it was brilliant.

Max clapped a hand on Michael’s back and they tapped glasses in a less enthusiastic celebration. When Michael had suggested that the four of them go to the Wild Pony for New Year’s he had expected to be shot down instantly, but now that they were here he was glad they had actually agreed.

It had been a good night. There was plenty of alcohol, loud music and he’d won several games of pool - all without using his powers! Even Deluca had seemed almost happy to see him but he put that down to the Christmas spirit she’d been radiating for the past week.

Watching the fireworks felt like such a cliche way to end it. It was perfect. The colours lit up the sky, the bright blues and pinks of the explosions reminding him of the alien console that was slowly coming together beneath the earth of the junkyard and the booms were so powerful he could practically feel them reverberating in his chest.

He had drunk far too much to be able to quite remember how he made it home, but closing the door behind him, he noticed how lonely the airstream felt after spending the evening in a crowd of people. 

He threw his hat onto the desk and his shoes into the nearest corner and dropped onto the bed with a sigh. He clenched his left fist a few times as the ache became noticeable again. Even after all these years, the cold weather still wreaked havoc with his injury, making it cramp or stiffen up at the worst times.

As he stared up at the ceiling he had an idea. A truly terrible idea. And if he was sober he would have realised that, but sensible Michael had taken a break for the night.

He rolled off the bed and stumbled the short distance to his desk. For a messy person, his supplies were surprisingly organised with the paper stacked in one draw and a few envelopes scattered in another. He grabbed the closest pen to him and tested it worked on a scrap design that he hadn’t had the heart to throw away yet.

His uneven lettering would probably give away his drunken state but he didn’t care. This was probably the most honest he would ever be with Alex so why not take advantage of that.

Dear Alex,

I guess I should wish you a happy new year.

You know we’ve never spent a new years together? I know you’re really busy in your super important job but it would have been nice for you to celebrate it at home one year. Or maybe you did and you just didn’t tell me.

I’ve been thinking about leaving Roswell. 2016 has officially begun and I’m stuck doing the same thing I’ve been doing my entire life, living in some tiny metal box and getting paid a measly amount at a job I only half show up to.

So maybe I should just leave. Get out of the town that’s filled with heaps of bad memories. Like all the shit that happened with Max and Isobel, all the stuff with your dad. Everywhere I look in this town has been tainted by bad people and bad choices.

So you know what they say, new year, new start.

I might go to Vegas and try my luck there. Or Texas. It’s not as far but at least I’d fit in. Or maybe I’ll just leave America completely! Europe sounds nice and I bet it isn’t just miles of sand.

I used to wish we could leave together. I’d save up enough money and as soon as you got out of the Air Force we’d just leave. It wouldn’t matter where, just anywhere away from this town. And we’d probably run out of money and it would be an absolute disaster but that would be okay because at least we’d be together.

I don’t think you want that though Alex, I think you’ve already moved on and that really hurts. So maybe I should just move on too.

Enjoy the new year with your boys.

Michael

Without reading it over, he folded the paper into an envelope and sealed it before he could second guess anything.

In the morning he wouldn’t remember what the letter said, but he’d post it anyway.

November 2016

Roswell always did go all out for Veterans Day. There were banners hung in every building, flags flying proudly from every window and it was as though every Roswell born member of the Armed Forces - past and present - had returned for the annual celebration. All except one.

The evening’s event was held at the drive in, organised by the one and only Isobel Evans-Bracken and that was the only reason Michael was there. To support Isobel and that’s it.

This day was hard most years. The constant reminders of Alex everywhere he’d go, the odd sighting of Jesse Manes being thanked for his service when that man was the entire reason for Alex’s absence.

He had always believed that he would get used to it the longer Alex was away. The town was very pro-military and there always seemed to be some parade or other so the constant reminders should have made him accustomed to the feelings it brought up.

But wishful thinking strikes again.

And this year seemed to be the worst of the lot.

He and Alex had hardly spoken all year and the letters he did receive sounded like Alex was just checking if he was still in Roswell more than anything else. He never quite worked out what gave the airman the impression that he would be leaving anytime soon.

To be fair though, all of his replies had been short and vague with a rather blunt tone that he couldn’t help. A small part of him knew that he was pushing Alex away and it was screaming at him, begging him to stop, but he didn’t listen. Unfortunately, when he was hurt his self preservation kicked in big time.

Grabbing another beer from the cooler, he took a seat next to Max on the back of the truck and watched as Master Sergeant Jesse Manes took to the stage to give a speech about duty and sacrifice and how those who had lost their lives had done so proudly in the service of their country.

It made him wonder if Alex would feel proud in his last moments. If the worst happened, would he be glad to die for his country or would he be afraid? Would he be filled with fear as he lay in the dirt, cold and bleeding, waiting for help that wasn’t going to arrive on time? Would he be with his team, surrounded by love and friendship and people begging him to be okay or would he be alone? 

Or maybe it would be quick. A swift bullet to the head or heart. A nice clean shot and a point to the enemy. There one minute and gone the next.

Would Alex even feel it?

Would Michael?

As the townsfolk and various uniformed men and women began clapping loudly around him, his mind was brought back to the present. Manes gave a wave to the crowd as he ended his speech and passed the microphone over to Isobel to announce the evening’s agenda.

As she listed the live music and entertainment that was in store, he closed his eyes and tried to focus on her words instead of the thoughts circling his head. He didn’t know why he still cared so much. Alex wasn’t Michael’s to protect or worry about. Not anymore.

Michael had moved on and maybe if he drunk enough tonight, his heart would finally believe that and his mind would stop reciting the latest letter that had arrived at his door.

Dear Michael,

We were shipped off to Baghdad two months ago.

I wasn’t going to tell you because I don’t want you to worry and it’s not fair for me to force this onto you when you’re off living your own life now. It’s just a lot has happened on this tour already and I’ve been getting this feeling that I should probably let you know that I’m here.

All things considered, I’m actually quite lucky that this is only my third deployment bearing in mind how many years I’ve been serving. I’ve heard stories about some people who are on tour after tour and I don’t think I’d be able to handle the never ending missions.

It turns out I must be quite good at my job though because the team I’m with requested me. They needed someone with my specialist skillset so I guess its rather flattering but it makes me think that this job is going to be harder than the others.

It’s crazy to think about how much I’ve accomplished since I first joined. Seventeen year old Alex would hate that I’m still here but I guess he didn’t know the world like I do now. I still think about him sometimes though, the rebellious kid who wore too much eyeliner.

I know I don’t say it much but I’m really grateful for the time we spent together back then. And since then. They’re some of my favourite memories.

But I’m glad you’ve found your own path in life. You have a job that you love, a place to live that you can call your own and friends and family that you can always turn to.

I hope everyone is okay back home. I hope you’re okay. 

And more than anything, I hope that you’re happy. It’s what you deserve and I’m sure one day you’ll find someone who sees that and makes you even happier.

From, 

Alex.

He hated that Alex was back there.

And he hated that the letter sounded like a goodbye.

February 2017

Dear Alex,

I know it’s taken me a while to reply. It’s not that I didn’t want to, I’ve just been thinking about everything that’s happened and I didn’t want to say something I would regret. You’d probably tell me that I was overthinking and I’d dramatically disagree of course. But you would be right.

I’ve been thinking a lot about where you are right now and all of the bad things that could happen. I’m not going to go into how many soldiers have died over there because I’m sure you know more about it than me, just make sure you’re not added to that list, okay? I haven’t acted like it recently but it worries me that you’re somewhere so dangerous, so please be careful.

I know we’ve drifted but I still care about you Alex so I need you to be okay. I’ve been distancing myself from you these past few years and I’m sorry for that. I thought you were pushing me away so I did all I could to push you away first. I know I can’t change that now but maybe it can be different going forward.

It’s been almost three years since I last saw you in person and in a weird way it feels like yesterday. Three years sounds like a long time but looking back, it’s flown past way too quickly. So much has changed since then. I see Sanders occasionally but I haven’t worked at the junkyard in years, Isobel is married, the Wild Pony has starting having open mic nights and the Crashdown has gained about ten new milkshakes.

But I suppose the one constant is that you haven’t been here. You’ve been off being an American hero and that’s such an incredible achievement. You’ve travelled to places that I will never go, accomplished things I will probably never understand and been involved in so much that I can never know about. 

I’m sure it hasn’t always been the positive experience that people make it out to be, but I’m so happy you’ve been able to make something of your life.

You’re probably on some super secret mission right now with your little carefully selected team, but if you’ve got a minute, let me know that you’re okay.

Michael

July 2017

Alex hadn't answered. Five months and four goddamn letters and Alex hadn't answered a single one. And Michael was pissed. 

Well, first he was terrified. He had made up all manner of excuses. Maybe the letters got lost in the post. Maybe Alex was too busy to reply. But the never ending weeks of radio silence soon left Michael thinking the worst.

He had scoured the news headlines for any reports of American deaths in Iraq, he checked the obituary lists for any updates and he kept an ear out for any locals discussing the untimely death of Alex Manes.

He didn’t want to find out but he needed to know the truth.

Maria hadn’t mentioned anything in the many nights he had spent drowning his sorrows at the bar, so he took that as a good sign but then again she could just be as in the dark as he was.

After a while though, when no bad news had surfaced, he accepted the sad fact that Alex had chosen not to reply.

That the man he once loved had read his letters and hadn’t cared enough to respond. That he’d read the carefully selected words that conveyed Michael’s love and gratitude and worry. That he’d held the paper in his hands, each letter more honest than the last, and had decided to leave Michael hanging.

And if it proved one thing, it’s that he was right to stop waiting for Alex. 

He had woken up that morning missing Alex desperately. Missing his face, his voice, his laugh, his words. But when, once again, no letter arrived, his anger tore through as he finally decided to face the cold hard truth that had been waiting in the back of his mind for weeks.

Their relationship had been going downhill for a long time and now the airman had clearly made the choice for the both of them. Alex had ended whatever it was they had going on and so now Michael would do the same.

That night he went to sleep, vowing to never think of Alex again, so painfully unaware that Alex, now with half a limb cruelly taken from him, had read the letters. In fact he'd read over every letter in his metal box, mourning the end of their relationship with each one. 

Waking up in the hospital bed five months ago he'd seen his future. The future filled with therapy, physio, phantom pains, decreased mobility, the constant awkwardness from other people. And he refused to burden Michael with that. His beautiful cowboy deserved so much better.

Soon the letters would stop completely and Alex would accept that because why would Michael keep trying when he was receiving nothing in return? And maybe they’ll never see each other again and maybe they’ll never reconcile, but that would be okay because at least this way, Michael would be free.

December 2017

It was two weeks until Christmas and Isobel was on his case about a present. Why do you have to make my life difficult, Michael? You’re the only person I haven’t bought for, Michael. Can you find some actual hobbies so that I know what to get you, Michael?

The queen of organisation was getting very stressed at the mere thought of having to do any last minute shopping but how would Michael tell her what he really wanted for Christmas when obtaining it was impossible?

And yeah, yeah, he said he was going to stop thinking about him. But let’s be real, that was never going to happen.

Instead he drank. A lot. And gambled and hooked up with pretty girls and committed enough petty crime to make Max consider a very early retirement.  

Anything to get his mind off Alex. But as blissful as the forgetting was in the night, it always came flooding back in the morning. Because every morning he woke up and stared at the compartment where the box was stored and every morning it reminded him of Alex. Well, no more.

Sitting on the edge of the bed as he tried to ignore the cold winter wind raging outside, he made the decision to move it. If he hid it away and promised himself that he would never look inside again then maybe, just maybe, he would finally move on.

Standing up was a choice he instantly regretted as the room spun slightly and the sun blaring in through the newspaper covered window immediately fuelled the hangover burning behind his eyes. But as soon as everything settled he wasted no time in opening the compartment and taking out the box.

His fingers were itching to lift up the lid and peek inside but that would only make it harder. Instead he clamped the sides tightly in his grip and headed straight for the closet.

It was ironic really, hiding Alex in the closet - a thought that only came to him as he was opening the door - but it was the only place in the tiny hamster cage of a home where it would be safe from prying eyes, Michael’s included. 

There were a pair of boots at the bottom alongside some old clothes Max had given him years ago and a cardboard box of blueprints, photos and spaceship pieces he had yet to take to the junkyard.

He lifted them out easily and dumped them unceremoniously on the floor next to where he was kneeling - they had been shoved in the bottom of a closet for god knows how long, they could manage a bit of manhandling.

With the space now empty, the shoebox went in first, being pushed as far into the corner as possible before he gave himself the chance to change his mind. The larger box went back in next, taking up the remaining floor space, then the boots and bag of clothes were thrown in afterwards. As long as they didn’t fall out, he didn’t care where they landed.

As he closed the door his phone rang and looking at the caller ID the timing couldn’t have been more perfect as he’d finally thought of an idea for what Isobel could buy him.

Because why spend your own money to fuel your drinking habit when someone else could do it for you.

March 2018

Michael was shocked awake by a loud thump. Sitting up too quickly, scrambling to get his brain in gear, he noticed Max standing on the other side of the cage with a large pile of files on the desk in front of him. That explains what caused the rude awakening then.

“Thanks.” He groaned, lying back down on the metal bench. His head was thumping and he was not in the mood for the conversation that was bound to follow.

“Is this gonna be a regular thing with you?” Max asked as he took a seat at the desk. The chair scraped horribly on the floor and it made Michael wince.

He stared up at the ceiling and took a few breaths before talking. He didn’t normally feel this bad after drinking but he’d forgotten to grab a bottle of acetone before heading to the Pony and it had been a long night.

“I thought you wanted to spend more time together.” He replied impudently after a moment. 

He heard Max sigh and could practically see him rolling his eyes.

“It’s not funny, Michael.”

“It’s a little funny.” He smirked, attempting to sit up again, groaning as it became clear how much his back hadn’t appreciated his drunk tank sleeping arrangements. Max didn’t even glance up at him from the file he was reading. “Right, are you gonna let me out or not?”

“Nope. Valenti’s just outside and she’ll know if I go easy on you.” 

Michael scoffed and debated just lifting the keys from the desk with his powers. Why did Max have to be such a rule-following little Deputy? It was as if Max was the mind reader of the trio though as he grabbed the keys without looking and put them straight into his pocket.

“I’m just trying to help you.” Max gave him a pointed look that Michael just wanted to punch right off his face sometimes.

“Like always…” Michael muttered under his breath.

“I’m surprised Maria hasn’t barred you yet. You cause her more trouble than it’s worth.”

“The fight wasn’t even that bad, everyone just overreacted. Besides, the other guy totally started it.”

Max shook his head as he got back to his work. Michael wasn’t lying, he hadn’t started the fight, he had just been rather eager to join in. Sometimes punching things felt good.

Max was clearly not letting him out anytime soon and it was well before noon so no-one was expecting him to be at work for a good couple of hours. He could try to negotiate his freedom but Max had this whole save Michael from himself agenda going on recently so it would probably just be a waste of breath.

Instead he could take the easy route and catch up with a bit more sleep.

June 2018

“Quick Alex, run and tell your daddy.”

Michael instantly regretted his words the second the door had closed behind him.

But he hadn’t seen Alex in four years, hadn’t heard from him in months. He had every right to be angry. Right?

Except he wasn’t angry, not really, that was just a façade he was forcing forward to help protect himself from the heartache threatening to break through. He never could stay angry at Alex for long.

Looking through the shoebox filled him with a cautious kind of hope. Just because Alex was back didn’t mean anything was going to change between them but Michael just couldn’t help it.

He sat on the floor for a while as he read over some of the letters, his legs getting cramped in the small gap between the bed and the closet. He had forgotten how happy the earlier letters were, the ones sent before Alex had had a chance to experience combat. They had both been so young back then, so unaware of how life would turn out.

Once he was finished, he left the shoebox on his desk, feeling too nostalgic to put it back in the closet but not yet ready to commit to the overhead compartment again. Thoughts of Alex followed him well into the afternoon of the next day and they didn’t seem to be leaving anytime soon. Twenty-four hours since Alex had been standing right in front of him and he had completely fallen for the airman all over again.

But that couldn’t happen. He couldn’t let Alex in again. Not if it was just going to end the same way.

So when Alex approached him at the reunion, suggesting that he had turned his trailer into a meth lab, Michael did all he could to put the wall back up again. He was sarcastic and aggrieved and did his best to rile Alex up. You trying to hold my hand, Private?

And when he shoved past Alex he pretended to himself that it felt good.

But the heart wants what the hearts wants and all evening his eyes kept being drawn back to Alex. He barely noticed the girl at his side as he watched Alex smile politely and engage in conversation with people they had both gone to school with and when Alex ducked into a side room, he couldn’t stop his feet from following.

Watching Alex check his prosthetic broke Michael’s heart. He wanted to ask a million questions, how did it happen? When did it happen? Does it hurt? Are you okay? Alex was walking on it, albeit with a crutch, so it must have been at least a year since he was injured and Michael had been oblivious to it all. Although an entire year of unanswered letters were suddenly provided with a devastating explanation.

To lose a limb must be unimaginable, but whatever had caused it, Michael was just so glad that it hadn’t taken all of him.

He leaned against the doorway as his eyes roamed over every part of the man in front of him, taking him in completely. His beautiful face that Michael was desperate to put a smile on, his soft hair that had grown since he had last been home, the checkered shirt that looked so much more Alex than the uniform, the way he glowed under the coloured lights.

They had both been through so much this past decade but Alex was back, potentially for good this time, and Michael was about to dive headfirst into the possibility of them rekindling whatever it was they once had.

“Nostalgia’s a bitch, huh?” He spoke up, hoping beyond anything that Alex wouldn’t walk away. He allowed a gentle smile and when Alex dropped his leg to the floor and faced him properly, he felt his heartbeat quicken.

Alex took a moment to reply and when he did his face gave no hints as to whether he was happy to see Michael or not. “I thought for sure when I got back from Iraq you would be long gone.” 

“Is that what you want?” Michael avoided eye contact, suddenly not wanting to witness the moment Alex turned him away but still, he walked closer.

“We’re not kids anymore.” Alex whispered, the words catching in his throat, and still Michael kept walking. “What I want doesn’t matter.”

They were so close to each other now, barely an arm’s length away from touching and the close proximity gave Michael all the courage he needed. He drew his longing gaze away from Alex’s eyes to his soft lips and he couldn’t hold back any longer.

One moment they were two separate people and the next they were crashing together like waves that had been parted for an eternity.

Michael’s entire body tingled, the feeling of Alex’s palm on his back, Alex’s lips against his own. He was hardly aware of what his hands were doing, cupping Alex’s face and pulling him closer, hungry and intense and desperate to reclaim what they had lost. He barely breathed as the rest of the world fell away until it was just them in their intimate, almost forbidden, moment.

His anger at Alex and his year long desire to banish any thought of him was long forgotten. He was back, he was here and Michael didn’t ever want to let go. 

As they parted, foreheads still touching, Michael couldn’t bear to take his eyes off the man in front of him, convinced that if he closed his eyes for even a second it would all disappear. The moment was so perfect, part of him felt like he was dreaming.

Their relationship over the past decade had been a complete rollercoaster but now, feeling Alex pressed against him, Michael was convinced that things would be different now.

And maybe, just maybe, there was hope.

The End.

Thank you for reading ❤️✨

[official-weasley]

The Irreplaceable Charlie Weasley: Pt. 3, Ch. 1

PART 3: THE YEAR OF QUIDDITCH & MAGICAL CREATURES Chapter 1 - Bill the Prefect

Nova

A few days after I returned from my aunt from Scotland, I received a letter from Charlie. Pip looked so pleased to see me as I decided to leave him at home since I knew my aunt has plenty of owls I could borrow. I was a little afraid that Pip would be angry with me for that but he looked rather cheerful.

“What are you up to, my little feather friend?” I petted his soft head and took the scroll he had tied around his foot.

Dear Nova,

After the last owl your mum sent to mine, Pip decided to stay with us and I can't wait to tell you how funny it was when he tried to befriend Errol but apparently, she is just as awkward at social interactions as she is with delivering letters.

Pip was a very good boy and he kept me company in my room. Ginny wanted him in her room, of course, she said that it's not fair that I get to keep him since she misses you more and that I have you for the entire school year.

I am sending him back now, as your mum wrote in the previous letter that you might be back soon. She and my mum also made arrangements for the picnic next week since your dad has a few days off.

Oh, and Bill and Ginny wanted to let you know that they are saying hello.

Can't wait to see you next week!

Love, Charlie

I folded the parchment and looked at Pip who hooted proudly. He was spending time at the Burrow, while I was at my aunt's.

“Lucky bloke.” I showed him my tongue and he seemed even more amused now.

I gave him some food and rushed down the stairs to tell my mum about the picnic.

“Mum! Mum!”

“In the living room, sweetheart!” I heard her say.

“Mum, Charlie wrote to me and we are invited to a picnic at the Weasley's next week!” I sat next to her on the sofa.

“I know already, darling. Molly sent me an owl yesterday morning.” I frowned. Why was I the last one to know everything?

“Are you excited to see Charlie?” She winked at me.

I couldn't believe her! After 2 years she still didn't give me a break! I never replied to her mocking comments anymore and I acted as if it didn't phase me at all at this point. I was hoping she would stop but if you'd saw her face right now, you would know that she is still amused about her little joke.

“So, how many days did dad get off work?” I changed the topic. She rolled her eyes, giving up on her silly question.

“He is getting 3 days. So I was thinking we could go to the ZOO one day and then spend the other two days at the Weasley's.” She brushed my hair with her fingers.

“I miss him so much! I wish he could stay for longer.” I bowed my head.

I haven't seen my dad since the beginning of the Summer. He came home a day after I arrived from Hogwarts, which was such a surprise and my mum was so happy that she kept it from me. We spent a couple of days together which was not enough, since I needed an entire day just to tell him about my Second Year at Hogwarts.

Then we had to leave to visit our dull relatives in America and since the trip cost me my quality time with dad I liked them even less now.

The last time I saw him was when we went to Greece for a little vacation. Turns out my dad had to look at a temple there that was covered with suspicious runes and I was allowed to look at them with him!

Not only was it going to be a good story for my Ancient Runes class that I am taking this year, but it was also one of the best times I had with my dad in a while. Being with him is always so much fun and it makes mum happy as well and just being a family is something that I've missed so much last Summer.

—

Needless to say, just by seeing dad more often is was the best Summer ever. When we returned home and he had to go back to work, I decided to accept my aunt's invitation and visit her and her little Abraxan family in Scotland.

It turned out that I arrived just in time as one of her Abraxan's was due to have her baby. Sending pictures of the baby and Angel made Charlie jealous again which was a very nice amusement for me.

Angel was now all grown up and when I was packing my things to go to Scotland, I couldn't help but wonder if he was going to remember me at all. Much to my surprise, he was waiting for me when I arrived and my aunt told me that he has been more playful and cheerful ever since my arrival announcement.

My aunt and I trained him for a couple of days and we were trying to prepare him for his first flight with a human. I couldn't believe my aunt was going to let me do this! Of course, she made me swear not to tell my parents as they would have her head. I, on the other hand, couldn't wait for the moment to arrive and even though I was quite nervous, I was confident that my relationship with Angel was strong enough for us to see the grasslands from above the clouds together.

It seemed that I was the only one nervous because when I took Angel out that day and told him we were going to fly, he kneeled and offered me a seat immediately.

And let me tell you that flying on Angel was the best thing I have ever experienced. I was wondering if this is how Muggles feel when they fly with a plane. It was so liberating and the view was breathtaking. Not to mention how good it felt to know that an Abraxan trusts me so much and Angel was very careful not to make any sudden movements or fly too quickly for me to fall off him.

The very next morning I decided to make Charlie even more jealous and sent him a message with Pip telling him all about my flying session. I assumed he was very mad at me when the owl he sent back was Errol and not Pip and the message was short and to the point, saying only that he is happy for me. No hello and no goodbye.

—

The message Pip brought me this morning and reading about how excited he was for the picnic made me think that perhaps he finally forgave me for rubbing it in his face about my amazing adventure with Angel.

—

I came back from my daydreaming as I felt my mum brushing my hair with her fingertips.

“I know you miss your dad, sweetheart. I miss him too. He is just so busy at work, if you're going to be a Curse Breaker, you'll see how it is.” She smiled at me.

“You know I don't want to be a Curse Breaker, mum.” I frowned at her. As if I don't talk about animals 24 hours a day.

“Well, you know your dad and I will support you no matter what you decide to do.”

I started packing the very next day as I couldn't convince my mum to buy all my books in advance for my Third Year so that I could read them. One of these years she will have to let me do it. Perhaps in my O.W.L. or N.E.W.T. year!

I sent my answer back to Charlie with Pip and ordered him to just stay there. I knew Charlie was going to take good care of him.

I was drawing as much as my hands possibly let me for the next week. I couldn't believe how busy I was in my Second Year, I hardly drew at all at school. And I wanted to get as much out of it as possible since we would have 2 new subjects this year, I knew I was going to have even less time and it kept the time going, as I couldn't wait to go to the Burrow again.

I also took the time to write back to Penny, Tonks, and Tulip as I was neglecting their letters when I was at my aunt's.

Penny wrote to me several times. She was having a pretty good Summer despite the fact that they didn't take their annual Muggle vacation. She said that she was having a surprisingly good time with her relatives and what came as an even bigger surprise was the fact that her dad, who was a Muggle, had a nice time too, despite the relatives being all Magic folk.

Tonks wrote to me twice. Once for advice on which prank should she perform next on her parents and the second one to scold us all as apparently she also wrote to Tulip, Penny and Charlie and Tulip and I agreed on the same prank but Penny and Charlie said that she should pick the other one. She said that we didn't help her at all and what good is she keeping us as friends. Of course, I knew she was joking and it was funny to see that her Summer didn't change at all from that of last year.

A few days before my dad came home for us to go to the Burrow, Tonks wrote to me again. It was a short letter but I don't know if I have ever gasped so much at the news.

Wotcher Nova,

I hope you are having a nice Summer. I just wanted to tell you that perhaps my parents aren't the worst. Today at breakfast, my mum didn't call me by the name we don't mention but called me Dora instead.

I have to say it does have a better ring to it. What do you think?

Miss you loads,

Tonks

Dora? Not bad! She didn't mind it as much as Nymphadora and she said something nice about her parents for a change. If Penny was here she would have tears in her eyes and she would say that Tonks is finally growing up.

The last one I had to reply to was Tulip. She couldn't stop talking about all the items she was going to buy in Hogsmeade this year. Apparently, business was doing rather well for her mum's coffee shop and she said that she learned that if she smiles more to the customers, they think she's cute and she gets a bigger tip.

I guess she started using her charm on the guests because I know that the list of prank items she wants to get from Zonko's cost a fortune.

—

The day to see the Weasley family again has finally arrived. My dad came home yesterday and we spent it in the living room discussing my Third Year and my dad gave me a really old book about translating ancient runes. He said that it might come in handy in class and I couldn't wait to read the whole thing before the start of school on 1st September and I knew Bill would like to go through it after I am done.

I was all packed and ran down the stairs to the living room where my parents were already waiting with the bag of Floo Powder.

“I think you should go first, pumpkin.” My dad winked at me and handed me the bag of Floo.

I put my hand inside and took out a handful of powder and stepped into our fireplace.

“Now, careful with the pronunciation, pumpkin.” He always said that, no matter how many times I traveled with Floo Powder. It might get annoying to some but since I don't get to see my dad so often I knew it meant a lot to him to be the one to do some parenting.

“The Burrow!” I spoke clearly and the last thing I saw before appearing in Weasley's living room was my dad's proud face.

“Nova!” One of the twins helped me dust myself off.

“Welcome back!” Said the other one.

I knew they were only 8 years old but I'm sure they were a head taller than the last time I saw them.

I gave them a hug and they rushed out to where I presumed the rest of the Weasley kids were playing Quidditch.

“Nova, dear. How are you? Welcome back!” Molly, like always greeted me with extended arms and a big smile on her face. A second later my mum appeared in the fireplace.

“Ah, Olivia. So good to see you.” Molly hugged my mum.

“Arthur will be home any second now and the boys and Ginny are playing Quidditch outside.” Molly winked at me because she must've seen that I would rather not be there when the adults do their catching up.

As I got outside, Ginny spotted me at once.

“Nova!” She squeaked and gave me a big hug. “Come quickly, the boys are just going to finish the game and you can join the next one!”

She was just adorable. Big eyes, long fiery hair, and cheeks almost as freckled as Charlie's.

I looked to the Orchard and saw Bill, Charlie, and what looked like the twins flying. Ron was waiting for his turn on the broom, having a rather sad look on his face and I wasn't even surprised that Percy wasn't there as he was probably in his room, reading.

I was excited to play Quidditch with the boys and get in as much practice as possible as I was planning to try out for the House Team this year. Charlie and I discussed it since we would be playing against one another as he got on the Gryffindor Quidditch Team in the last weeks before the end of last year and we decided we would be okay competing against each other as he was the Seeker and I was going to try out for the Chaser position.

Ginny and I got closer to the boys and just as we did, Charlie lowered his body closer to the broom, gained speed, stretched out his hand, and caught the Snitch. I heard the twins using a couple of swear words I am sure would put them in trouble if Molly heard them as they were walking towards us.

“Why did you catch the Snitch so fast, Charlie?” Bill asked and then saw me standing at the edge of the pitch with Ginny. He looked at Charlie and back at me and a smirk appeared on his face.

“Show off.” He said to Charlie, whose cheeks were now covered in a pink hue, and ruffled his hair.

“Hi, Nova!” Charlie gave me a tight hug that reminded me that of Molly's. After him, Bill hugged me as well and gave me his broom.

“If Charlie's going to show off in front of you, might as well play on the same team.”

The twins were already running back to the hoops.

“C'mon! George, you promised!” Ron ran after them.

“Want to play a game with us?” Charlie scratched the back of his head.

“I thought you'd never ask!” I replied, lifting Bill's broom.

We ran back to the pitch. Fred and George got so much better compared to last Summer as Charlie and I barely beat them and I don't know how the game would've ended if George wouldn't finally give in to Ron, who was sitting at the edge of the pitch looking miserable and allowed him to play with Fred for 10 minutes.

The sun was going down and Bill came to tell us that dinner was ready. We were sitting outside, as the evenings were still warm and there were too many of us to sit inside anyway. Bill, Percy, Ron, and Ginny helped set the table as we washed ourselves and put the brooms back where they belong.

I hurried inside to say hello to my dad who was in a heated debate about the Ministry with Arthur.

“There she is! My Quidditch player.” I sat on his lap and he hugged me tightly.

Molly soon called us all to the table and I couldn't imagine a more perfect scene. Molly was asking my mum what type of cauldron she has for potions and my dad and Arthur were reminiscing on their days at Hogwarts. Ron and Ginny were annoying Percy as he wanted to leave the table sooner and they didn't let him. Fred and George were whispering about something that sounded like fireworks or firecrackers or something to do with fire.

Meanwhile, Bill finally got the time to tell me that he was made a Prefect.

“Congratulations, Bill! Charlie, why didn't you tell me?” I poked his ribs with my finger.

“Because he likes to talk about himself in his letters to you, don't you Charlie?” Bill chuckled.

“Bug off, Bill.” Charlie frowned, crossed his hands on his chest, his face red as his hair.

“Just know that this year there won't be any rule-breaking! Not on my watch!” Bill joked and made a rather serious face that made both me and Charlie laugh.

It was a perfect night. Me, my best friend and our families together. I couldn't help but wish that we could do this more often.

After dinner, my mum was helping Molly clean the kitchen, Fred and George went to their room, Ron tried to convince Percy to play Wizard Chess with him, Ginny was playing with Pip while Bill, Charlie and I sat on the sofa and read.

I showed them the book my dad gave me and we were scrolling through it to see what to expect from the Ancient Runes class this year.

All of a sudden an owl burst through the open door that led to the garden, dropped a letter in my dad's lap, and flew out.

I frowned. I knew exactly what a golden-blue envelope meant. My dad had to go back to work. He sighed and opened the letter.

“When do you have to go?” My mum started reading the letter behind his shoulder. “Now.” My dad said and looked at me.

“Come here, pumpkin.” He waved with his hand and I followed him outside.

“I am so sorry I have to leave again.” His lips curved into a sad expression. “I know I promised you a couple of days before you go back to school.”

“It's okay dad. I understand.” I tried to act as though it wasn't breaking my heart that he had to go.

“It's not okay. You shouldn't be without your dad so much.” He hugged me. “I will try to get at least a couple of hours off for Christmas. Do you know if you'll be coming home this year?” He asked.

“I don't know. It really depends if mum will get time off and what my friends will have in plan.” I gave out a weak smile and bowed my head.

“Listen, I know I might not be around much but I hope you know how proud I am of you. You have good grades, you are trying out for Quidditch this year and I know I haven't met your girls, but Charlie seems like a really good friend.” He lifted my chin.

“He is.” I smiled. “He's my best friend.”

“I am happy to hear that. Molly and Arthur were amazing friends to me and your mum when we were in school. I am confident all of their children are great.” He hugged me again and placed something in my hand.

It was a small bag that seemed to be filled with coins.

“What is it?” I asked.

“I didn't have time to buy you any art supplies so when you'll go shopping for your books, buy yourself some.” He winked at me, gave me another tight hug, and accompanied me back inside.

He said goodbye to everyone and disapparated in the Garden. I watched the spot he disappeared at as if waiting for him to come back.

“Are you okay?” Charlie interrupted my stare.

“I'll be fine.” I smiled at him and he hugged me.

My dad was right, Weasley's were a great family. The best actually.

—

The next day my mum and I said goodbye to them and went back home. I was sad to leave Charlie so quickly but I knew it was almost time to go back to school and that cheered me up.

The next few weeks were busy. My mum and I went shopping for my new books, we visited Tulip in her mum's café and she even allowed me to go inside Quality Quidditch Supplies. She knew that she wouldn't hear the end of it if she wouldn't let me go.

I also told her about the money dad gave me and she took me to several shops where I got some new pencils, two new notebooks, and a new quill. I decided to save the rest of the money for sweets and Butterbeer for when we go to Hogsmeade this year.

I was happy how fast the days were flying. I helped my mum around the house most days, as she decided to redecorate the terrace and the living room, and one day we went up the attic and while we were cleaning she found an old album from her days at Hogwarts. I couldn't believe how young they were once and I almost didn't recognize my mum and Molly in the picture they took when they went to the Ball. Let's just say my dad and Arthur were two really lucky blokes!

When mum and I arrived at Platform 9 ¾ I spotted Charlie immediately. This time around Percy, the twins, Ron, and Ginny were with them. Apparently, they wanted to see the Hogwarts Express and go through the wall according to one of the twins.

Bill, Charlie, and I waved to our mums until the train took a turn and they disappeared out of sight. Bill told us to go find our friends as he was supposed to have a meeting with other Prefects and then chaperone the corridors.

We found the compartment Tulip and Penny were sitting in and as we sat down, Tonks joined us as well.

“Hi, Dora!” I greeted Tonks as she sat next to me.

“On the second thought, I think I will stick with not liking my parents.” She said after giving the sound of her new nickname a thought. We all laughed.

Penny told us just how proud her dad was when she told him she was going to take Muggle Studies this year and she said that he gave her three books about how electricity works. The only thing I knew about it was how to pronounce it. That didn't seem to be the case when it came to Tulip and Tonks as both had a puzzled look on their face when Penny was explaining how to pronounce it for the third time.

Tulip said that she couldn't wait to find Jae and that along with Tonks they would have to cause a lot of mischief this year because her mum didn't allow her to do anything but work in the shop all Summer.

“Not on my watch, Tulip.” Bill joined us in the compartment.

“Oh, right. We have a Prefect in the family now.” Giggled Tonks.

“Congratulations, Bill! They couldn't get a better person for the job!” Beamed Penny. Charlie and I exchanged looks and started giggling.

Bill then told us all about the meeting. Who the other Prefects were and what exactly were their responsibilities. I know I am not the one to talk, sneaking into the Forbidden Forest with Charlie last year wasn't exactly obeying the rules, but being a Prefect sounded like something I might want to put on my wish list.

Then he told us all about how nervous he is about their Career Advice Meeting, which all 5th Year students have to attend. He wasn't confident that he has the suitable grades to become a Curse Breaker and when he started thinking about other options, he couldn't think of any and started to panic.

We calmed him down, as we were sure he was overreacting when it comes to his grades just as much as Penny did every year and in the end came out on the top of our class.

After it seemed he calmed down a little, he said goodbye as it was his turn to keep watch on the corridors.

We started talking about our Elective Subjects and wondered how they would be and if we made the right choice. Penny was sad that she was the only one who picked subjects that none of us picked and she didn't want to be alone in class. We quickly reminded her that she taught half of our year Potions in both First and Second Year and that there is bound to be someone she knows.

Tulip and Tonks shared Divination. Charlie, Tonks, and I shared Care of Magical Creatures and as Tulip, Charlie, and I shared Ancient Runes I decided to show the book my dad got me to her and she said that she was rather excited about the subject now, if we were going to learn about what was in the book.

Charlie and I soon went into our little world of Quidditch and Care of Magical Creatures. We went through our list of Creatures we bet were in the Creature Reserve at school and then we talked about beating each other in Quidditch.

Before we realized we were close to school, Bill came into our compartment again to tell us to put on our robes and prepare to get off the train.

[feralnumberfive]

I expect no one to read this at all. It’s more of a way to get some feelings off of my chest. This is a look into my personal life and what I went through in 2020. I cried quite a bit while writing this, haha.

My farewell letter to 2020:

To you 2020, the year that shook the world. You’re certainly one to go down in the record books. You changed my life as you did to everyone. To you, the month of March. I had hit the lowest part in my life since the shock of my parent's divorce 11 years ago. My beloved cat had died in October of 2019, a few days short of our one year anniversary of fostering him, which soon turned into us adopting him. It was sudden and unexpected. I still can remember clear as day that horrid call I got from my sister from the vet. “Hey, we need you to come up here. It’s kidney failure.” As she spoke through her tears, I instantly began to cry. I had felt sad for months after that. 

In December of 2019, the adoptive dad of one of my closest friends committed suicide. She was torn apart, having had three people she knew died earlier that year. I stood by her side and watched her cry. We colored together in the counseling room, making small talk and doing anything I could to comfort her. 

From late February into March, another one of my closest friends revealed to me a traumatic experience she went through. She had been raped by a classmate of mine, one who I considered to be good acquaintances. She was a grade younger than me, and was practically completely dependent on me and my friend, as she was too scared to tell her parents. She eventually completely relied on my friend as I became shoved out of the problem. Her story and the amount of support required from her, which she never gave back to me throughout our friendship, made me realize at that moment I had hit rock bottom. I was tired and so sick of it all. This sentence that I'm about to say is one I've never admitted to anyone: I didn't want to be around anymore, or at least alive. I needed somewhere to escape. I didn't want to commit suicide due to expectations I held upon myself. I was also too scared to commit suicide. 

I finally admitted I needed help, which was scary for me to do. In March of you, 2020, I was diagnosed with situational depression. I was soon put on an anti-depressant. It felt good to put a name on it, but little did I know I would pay the price for my relief. Preparing to go off to college, I needed to get a First Class Medical Certificate in order to apply to the flight program at the colloege I wanted to go to. I went and got my FAA Medical Certificate done, ticking off the boxes on my journey to fulfill my life long dream of becoming a pilot. 

Spring Break came and after watching schools around me close, it was announced that we wouldn't be returning until mid April, and then the end of April, then until May. I quickly realized it wasn't possible to return and that unbeknownst to me I had already spent the last days of my Senior year at school in March. A frantic question was suddenly formed amongst my classmates and soon the world: Will the class of 2020 graduate? I, being burnt out, didn't care what would happen to me or my class. We soon became a laughing stock and a sight to pity around the world. Class of 2020, Corona Class, The Class that would be telling this story to their kids. It didn't matter to me. As I held up the “Class of 2020″ shirt my uncle got me with the zeros as tp rolls, I sighed. I just wanted to graduate without getting laughed at. Spoiler Alert: That didn't happen. 

Around this time I ended my friendship with the girl who I cherished but didn't cherish me back. I still to this day can’t exactly understand why I did that. I blocked her and left without saying goodbye. That wasn’t the right thing to do at all. She had been raped and needed support, but here I was leaving her. She always needed and wanted my support but never gave it back. It was always “Aw you have a problem? Here, let’s try this minimal effort plan to help you. That didn’t work? Oh well, let’s get back to me.” This is no excuse at all for my actions of cutting her off. I really still don’t know why I did this. I had hung out with her everyday in the summer of 2019. Here I was, easily letting her go. Jackie, I’m so sorry. I hope you are doing well and get into ISU to follow your dreams of being an engineer. 

In May I received news that still hurts and effects me to this day. I had been denied my Medical Certificate. It wasn't due to me being on an antidepressant, is was due to the fact that I was depressed. This was soul crushing news, but there was still a chance I could reapply for the Medical Certificate if I jumped through multiple hoops. May also provided the announcement that my safe haven in Oshkosh, Wisconsin wouldn't be happening this year. It was definitely understandable due to the virus, but still very saddening to me. It’s really the only thing I look forward to each year, but I understood and agreed on why it was canceled for 2020.

In June I got the news that a beloved teacher of my family and I passed away due to a heart attack and complications of Addison’s Disease. She was the best math teacher I had ever had, and the best in my High School. Math is my worst subject, but she never made me feel stupid like the other math teachers. She always made sure I understood what I was doing. Sometimes when she didn’t feel like having class she would have a free day. She would gossip with my classmates and tell us stories of her youth. Sometimes though she would give us free days due to having intense migraines that sometimes hospitalized her due to her disease. It wasn’t fun to see her like that. 

In June she was hospitalized where even her husband and two kids weren’t allowed in to see her. The only person allowed into her before she died was her twin brother. The family decided to have a public funeral, with tons of people in the community and school district socially distancing and wearing masks to pay their respect. I began to cry as I listened to her husband tell everyone that he wasn't ready and was so scared to be a single parent. Their children were both under ten, and were now motherless. Mrs. Johnson it was so hard saying goodbye to you. I loved you so much, and I still do. You gave my friend who had lost her dad food and comfort. You did so much not only for my family and I, but for everyone in the community and school district. I miss you so much. 

Hot days came with hazy skies. Everyday I checked the wildfire smoke map as I watched the sun turn bright pink as the sun became a blazing red when the sun went down. For weeks our sky looked hazy. Some days looked cloudy, but it was actually smoke. As someone who lives the Midwest, this was quite surprising. 

In August I experienced something that will forever be remembered by me and everyone who lives in my state. A Derecho tore through and ravaged my hometown and the state that I dearly love. We watched through the window as trees snapped in half and branches and leaves whirled around everywhere. We watched through the window as water roared down the road, appearing as if a stream had started right next to us. We watched in fear as shingles were torn off and large items were blown through our yard. As the electricity flickered out, we wondered if we would be crushed by either tree that were on two sides of our house. Wet leaves were torn apart and slammed into our window, where they stayed there for a month afterwards. They looked like confetti, torn into thousands of tiny pieces. 

To the branches and trees I still see today in the neighboring towns and cities, broken reminders of the damage done. To you, the metal grain bins that still sit out in the flattened cornfields. Our once tall and proud cornfields that are a proud symbol of my state were now flattened to the ground, completely parallel to the rich farming soil that it stood in. Painting the countryside in flat waves of green with splotches of silver from grain bins and white from barns and houses damaged. Our proud stalks became damaged goods that costed us billions. To the buildings that still show their battle scars from months ago, the houses with the tarps on their roofs and the old wooden barns that couldn't handle the 140 mph. To you, Donald J, Trump, the President of the United States who was supposed to tour Cedar Rapids to exam the damage that still lies there today. You stayed in the airport and immediately left after getting your business done. You didn't care about us, you were there to do business and leave to start your campaigning.

My small town was able to clean up within a month or so, but even still TODAY the bigger cities are littered with damage. There are tree trunks and branches scattered along roads. Thousands of houses still have tarps on their houses and siding missing. 

In August my grandma was also diagnosed with Dementia. I've watched her deteriorate over the past few months. Every time we call she forgets that I’m not in school. Sometimes she forgets my name. When we tell her we’re on our way to visit outside her window, she forgets within 10 minutes. Grandma, I hope you never forget that I love you.

In September I finally met with a therapist. I am so thankful to be working with her. After months of my family getting angry and upset at me for being scared to go to the store, my therapist diagnosed me with Social Anxiety. I was so relieved to be diagnosed with it and to be working out the issues I have with my therapist. We work together weekly to help me become a better and more comfortable version of myself. 

Over the summer months the health of my already diseased cat took a steep decline. She was my cat, and I felt powerless as I slowly watched her die. She could no longer stay inside due to her having constant accidents. As we made our plan to take her to the vet to give her a peaceful death, I received a heartbreaking call from my mother on a cold September night. My little Jill had passed away in her sleep on our porch. I came over to say goodbye to my baby as I pet her cold fur one last time. I love you my little Jilly Bean and I miss you everyday. I miss and love you so so so much. 

September also brought the news that a precious B-25 had a crash landing. It always hurts to hear about a Warbird crashing or getting damaged. I was happy to hear though that they were going to fix it back to airworthiness.

In October I had to make a difficult decision with the FAA. Do I try to visit four different doctors for phycological examinations in order to complete my Medical Certificate or do I wait to get off my medicine and start feeling better on my own? I opted for the second part due to the decline of visiting all of those doctors coming up in November. We had been given that option early in the year, but Covid prevented us from traveling out of state to see those doctors. I sent a letter to the FAA to let them know what I was doing. I received a letter about a month ago that stated that I still needed to visit those doctors or something like that. I honestly didn’t look through it that well because it’s just such a pain in the butt.

Another thing about you 2020 is that you provided me with he opportunity to meet amazing people. I began to watch The Umbrella Academy in September, but I decided to make my account on October 1st. I’ve met tons of funny and talented people on here. The show itself had provided me tons of comfort. It has given me the courage to start writing fanfiction for it along with starting back up on drawing fanart

The end of 2020 has slowed down for me. One of my aviation heroes died this year, Mr. Chuck Yeager. It was heartbreaking for me to hear that. One of the worst days for me was ironically on my birthday in December. I felt really bitter and down and just wanted to sit in my room, but I didn’t. I don’t like celebrating my birthday anymore. As I get older it feels less and less special and in turn I feel sad about it. Another reason why is that I don’t like having a fuss made about it. I don’t like the attention from it haha. It’s okay though because even though this year I felt upset I eventually felt a bit happier as it turned to night. 

This year I witnessed history being made. Let me be clear that history is made every year, but this year was very eventful. I witnessed innocent black lives being slaughtered by the very people who are sworn to protect everyone. It’s so disappointing and soul crushing to see all of this. I don’t know if I’ve made it clear on here, but I strongly stand with the BLM movement. I may not understand what they haven been going through for decades, but I stand with them to make things right. Black Lives Matter, not All Lives. All Lives only matter when it’s actually true and Black Lives are included. If you saw a house on fire in an entire block of houses, you wouldn’t say “All Houses Matter!” No they don’t, that house on fire matters. Black Lives Fucking Matter, and All Cops Are Bastards.

To you, the Pledge of Allegiance. Everyday in elementary school I proudly held my right hand over my heart as I stared up at Old Glory and recited you. This year helped me realize that “With liberty and justice for all.” is total bullshit. The only thing I truly appreciate about my country now is the scenery and nature it provides. 

To you 2020, as I finish writing this letter on December 31st. You’ve made me cry a lot, including right now. You’ve deeply effected my life and brought me lots of sorrow. Despite all of this, I don't feel upset about you. Yes, you gave me some events that will always haunt me but that’s okay. 2020 even though you’ve hurt me, you’ve also shaped me. Yes, you also made my lose faith in my country and humanity, but I can only hope for the best. You’ve pushed me to become a better version of myself. 

So to you 2020, you’ve been a hell of a year. I’ve hated and loved you, but mostly hated you. I went through some shit, but others have gone through worse this year. To those of you who have had a very hard time this year, I love you. I sincerely hope things get better for you. Friend or stranger, you can always rely on me as someone to talk to, to rant or vent to, and to cry to. This year was excruciating, but don’t give up. It has ended and a new year has begun. Sure 2021 may also be bad and we’re all exhausted from 2020, but let’s fight till the end. 

[domitxnate]

Let Her Go | Rynate | 09/20

Who: Nate Lynn, Rysan Fabray @ryansfabray

When: September 20

Notes: Heartbreak. Just, pure adulterated heartbreak on all sides.

Ryan

Ryan didn’t need the week. After her conversation with Jo and Noah, Ryan knew exactly where her mind was at. When she pushed her way into the apartment, her stomach flipped and her heart starting beating a mile a minute. She still couldn’t comprehend how much and how fast things have changed within a week. Perhaps she wasn’t as okay as she pretended to be and it was crazy how well she fooled everyone around her, including herself. She found Nate standing in the kitchen, staring into the fridge and she watched for a second before making herself known. She could see the stress she put him under and she hated herself for it. “Sir?” She asked as she leaned against the door frame leading into the kitchen.

Nate

He was still a mess, but when he looked up at the sound of the door, he did what he could to hide it. He shut the fridge and turned towards her. "Yes, Ryan?" he asked, the title off her lips like another dagger in his heart. He literally had no idea what was coming, but his body seemed to lean against the counter in an effort to prepare for the worst.

Ryan

Ryan snapped back. Who knew hearing her own name would hurt so much. It made her want to change her mind about everything. To put her collar back on and fall at his feet. But she knew that would only prolong the inevitable. Her hands were shaking and her heart racing. This was the lowest she’d felt in a long time. She hated that she was proving everyone right about her claim to Nate. She hated that she was the one who was causing all of this drama and turmoil. So before she lost her nerve, she took a deep breath and said the words she’d been dreading all day. “I‘m leaving.”

Nate

He had no idea how long he was holding his breath for, but hearing those words hit him like a cannon ball right in the gut. "You're...leaving," he repeated, mostly to keep himself grounded to the moment. He scoffed a few times, trying to keep himself as calm as possible. The fact was - he wasn't making her happy. And he wanted her happy. He was just going to let her walk away, but instead told her to wait and went into his room to grab her collar that he put back in it's box. He returned, setting it next to her. "It's yours. Sell it, throw it away, whatever ya want," he said with another sigh. "Look, I ain't gonna beg ya to stay," he began, "if ya ain't happy, ya ain't happy. And that's all I've ever wanted for ya, Ryan. Since we were 15. But...I need to know what I did. I need to know, what I did that made ya so unhappy."

Ryan

Ryan wasn’t sure what what Nate’s reaction was going to be, so she braced for the worst. When he merely mimicked her words she nodded to confirm. There was a moment where she thought that was it but when he came back with her collar, that’s what really crippled her. She looked at it but didn’t take it just yet. There was still so much for them to talk about. “You didn’t do anything,” she replied plainly. “I wanted submitting to be enough, I thought it was enough. I thought you were enough.” Those words sounded harsher than she intended so she followed them with an explanation. “You weren’t enough for me but that isn’t your fault. I’m just not fulfilled in my life currently. I don’t think I’ll be able to submit to anyone again, that was only for you. But I think I might be happier as a Domme.” She scoffed and laughed sarcastically. “I guess Russell was right about me after all.”

Nate

"So why now?" he asked, shaking his head, "It's been almost a year. And this really feels like 'all of a sudden.' I mean, is there someone else?" he asked, knowing that was blunt but also felt it was a fair question. When she said he wasn't enough - even with her caveat - it still made his eyes start to water. He wanted to point out she'd submitted to Mike on at least a couple occasions, but that wasn't worth the argument it would bring up. "First of all," he said as she finished, "He has never been right. And regardless of what's happenin' right now with y'all and me, that doesn't make him right. I just hope this all isn't comin' out cos he's gonna be here tomorrow."

Ryan

Ryan couldn’t help but roll her eyes at his question, as if any one person could be responsible for this, but she sighed and offered her explanation. “Because if I was able to pull that stunt I did last week. Disregarding all of the rules and intentionally disrespecting you, that means I don’t really respect you as my Dominant. Which means that this claim shouldn’t continue.” She bit at her bottom lip, eyes watering. “This has nothing to do with Russell. If anything, staying in a claim protects me from him. Which is why I’m going to ask you to let me be selfish for a little while longer.”

Nate

He knew that much was true - she didn't respect him. "Nah I guess not," he said simply, wiping his eyes. "But ya know what, since this is the end, there are some things I gotta say. Y'all humiliated me, Ryan. It was utterly humiliatin' to not know where ya were or who ya were with. Or to let someone take your phone and be a complete disrespectful ass. Y'all were collared and he just acted like I was the one bein' ridiculous. And since we're on that subject - I was always afraid of this. I told ya that I was, that I was afraid this isn't reallywhat y'all wanted and ya made me feel like I was being paranoid and like I didn't trust ya. Can't ya understand how that makes me feel right now? Given all ya know bout me?" he said, sighing again. "What do ya mean? Selfish how?"

Ryan

This was tearing Ryan up inside but she needed to keep herself together. There was no argument she could have given him to convince him of anything other than what he was feeling. “You’re right. Perhaps you just saw that clearer than I did because I really was sure that y’all were wrong about that.” She paused and dropped her head for a moment. “I’m sorry y’all were humiliated and that he disrespected you. But I can’t say I’m sorry for what I did. Cause then I wouldn’t have had this realization.” Her lip quivered and she avoided his eyes. “I’m sorry.” Ryan was starting to lose it, so she pinched the inside of her palm to keep herself grounded. She almost didn’t want to ask for her favor but knew if she didn’t there’d be hell to pay. “Selfish by asking you to hold off on announcing this until after parents week. By pretending that everything is fine until Russell leaves.”

Nate

At least she saw his side. But god, could she be anymore profession about this? Yeah, he knew Ryan well enough to know she was just trying to keep it together, but is still felt like she was just trying to get it over with. When she quit looking at him, he held in his own breath at the intensity of it all. He groaned at her request - was she seriously trying to kill him? "Look, we can wait to tell the heads and dissolve it - that's fine. Does that mean ya gonna stay here?" he asked, actually half hopin' she would say no. He wasn't sure he could live that kinda a lie, especially in front of his family while they were here.

RyanY

Ryan was startled when he groaned, the sudden movement causing her to blink and tears to fall. She wiped them away as quickly as she could. The fucked up part was that she knew he would agree to whatever she asked of him because that’s just who he was. “I know it would be easier for both of us if I didn’t, but we can’t act like anything is amiss. He’s got eyes everywhere.” She sighed and finally met his eyes. “I’ll stay in my room with the door closed when I’m here. And pack up my things while I’m here.” Ryan steppes forward ever so slightly, wanting to embrace him in some kind of way but thought against it. “I really am sorry that I hurt y’all,” she finally mustered through a broken sob.

Nate

Another sigh and his hand running over his face while he knew she was right. “Fine,” he agreed reluctantly, “but this week changes nothin. I can’t have ya toyin with me, Ryan. I can’t have ya standin here tellin me ya don’t want me anymore, then cos y’all are here for a week and around me and it’s easier that ya change ya mind. If this is what ya want - if ya want out, then ya take it now,” he said being as clear as he could. This week was gonna be hard enough without his emotions being toyed with. He soften a little at the sob from the girl who he’d cared for for so long. “I know ya are,” he said, “I promise, I know.”September 22, 2020

Ryan

"Thank you." There was no reason for Nate to be so generous with her, but she wasn't going to question it. It just meant that it kept her safe from Russell for at least another week. She knew as soon as he found out it would be hunting season again. "I know that I messed up, but I've never been wishy-washy," she snapped back. "I promise this is the decision I'm sticking with." She sighed, her features softening again. "I think I'm going to go back and stay with Jo tonight though, and I'll be back in the morning." She paused and looked back at him. "I'm sorry."

Nate

Nate's wet eyes grew slanted as he heard the girl's voice get harsh. "Y'all ain't really in the position to be barkin' at me, Ryan. You've put me in a crappy position so I'm allowed to have questions and concerns about what's happenin'," he pointed out bluntly. He wanted to mention she also promised to stay with him, but felt like getting into a blow out fight was not going to help the situation. "Alright, if ya say so," he said, basically giving up. He hated this feeling. Part of him felt like he should fight for her, but it was clear by her words and actions that she wasn't willing to fight as well. Which meant this wasn't going to go anywhere if both sides weren't ready to fight. "I know ya are," he said again, "But your sorrys don't mean a whole lot right now."

Ryan

There really wasn't much else to say. She couldn't fault Nate for being mad. It was just unfortunate that her apologies weren't being taken seriously, because she would never apologize to him again. "Yeah, alright." Then without another word, she turned on her heel and walked out of the apartment. She managed to keep it together long enough to get back to Jo's place, where she fell apart in her sister's arms.

[shaineybainey]

Lab Rats: Elite Force – What Exactly Went Wrong?

An Opinion Piece from a Viewer’s (and a Writer’s) Perspective 

[written and posted on another site september 2018]

Let me begin this piece by stating one important fact that could or could not affect your acceptance of this piece: besides the finale, I’ve seen none of this show’s episodes. None. I only ever knew what was happening in it through the reports of others who had watched the show and had formed their own opinions about it, most of which were either negative or neutral. Could that have affected my own view of it? Of course. Could those have turned me off from the show more? Sure. But, the fact remains: the project that seemed to be the biggest and most promising in its time only had one season, ran only a few months, and was never renewed. When the show and its cast were first announced, I was admittedly upset. My favorite character was not included. I found it unfair since this spin-off seemed to be a new, exciting arena with a fresh concept. It bothered me a bit to see the five main characters in the promo image posted on Twitter, too. It was a little too...monotonous compared to how the audience had known Lab Rats and Mighty Med to be. But eventually, I’ve learned to accept that Tyrel Jackson Williams, the actor who played Leo, may have wanted to move on to new projects (and he did) and that maybe the creators just thought that the five actors they handpicked could carry the show a lot better. It was all okay. Soon, though, it became apparent that the negative feedback that had surprisingly come from some of the most loyal fans of Lab Rats, Mighty Med, or both were actually a reflection of how the viewers felt in general. When the finale aired on October 2016, the news that it was a series finale rather than just a season finale had already rocked the fandom. Twitter and Tumblr were flooded with complaints against Disney XD for canceling “another great show” in favor of a “trashy one”—which seemed to be an indirect snipe at the network’s then newest program, Mech X-4. Fans took to the actors’ Instagram accounts, asking them when the second season would come or why there wouldn’t be anymore episodes. They were understandably heartbroken over this loss. They tried to save it for months but – it didn’t work. The plea for #RenewLabRatsEliteForce didn’t carry the impact the petitioners wanted it to have, sadly because those left were too few in numbers. Many of the most vocal and most outspoken ones—the viewers whose voice when Lab Rats aired were the most powerful—have unfortunately already left the show long before and could not be counted on anymore for any help. Thus, Lab Rats: Elite Force never came back on air. It may be a wonder to some how that could have happened. Lab Rats, the main ‘universe’ this show played in, still remains as one of Disney XD’s powerhouse shows due to its iconic interracial family, bright and bold sets, and seamless, innovative plots. Meanwhile, the lore and mythology that came with Mighty Med was the most complex and held the most potential. These two combined should have generated a show worth the four-season run that Disney treats their most exciting and popular programs with. So, what exactly went wrong? Below is just a few of the things that I think may have caused the show its demise. The Reasons 1. When the shows combined, they were both stripped of their characters of color (save for one) – which resulted in lack of both visual diversity and diversity in storytelling. When Lab Rats aired in February 2012, there was already a considerable buzz about it. Besides its predecessor, Pair of Kings, Disney haven’t been playing much with the idea of featuring an interracial family. That was why it piqued the interest of many people when trailers of a Black teenage boy finding himself in a new family with his Black mom, White stepdad, and three White stepsiblings aired. It was icing on top of the cake, too, when at the time, it appeared that the main character might actually be of color this time. Mighty Med followed this diversity trend to a degree. The two main characters were both White, but the rest are of other races—two Hispanic and one Asian, to be exact (or Calderan, if we’re speaking of the character rather than the actress). These characters offered different voices, backgrounds, and personalities to their shows. They also served as beacons, lights of hope that maybe, just maybe, Disney is starting to understand that there were also other races and ethnicities they could pick to tell their stories and that they didn’t have to worry about it ‘not working.’ Everything was working, but fast forward a couple of years later, one of Lab Rats’ creators announced that the two shows would merge, and here, they are your new team! To be exact: William Brent, Kelli Berglund, Bradley Steven Perry, Jake Short, and Paris Berelc. Two of the stepsiblings from the Lab Rats fandom, and the three main characters from Mighty Med. Of course, this is not to knock them as actors. They’re all quite good, in my opinion! In fact, Paris Berelc is still unbelievably wonderful in her new Netflix show Alexa and Katie as Alexa Mendoza. Kelli Berglund and Jake Short have new projects they’re currently involved in as well. However, as a viewer, I thought the production could have put together a better combination. Past the shiny and admittedly impressive costumes and cool vibe of the cast, the promotional image and the trailers that subsequently followed lacked the oomph! the other two shows, as separates, had. The characters as a collective weren’t visually interesting anymore because they didn’t reflect the way the viewers saw the world. It was like Disney XD went back to how it was before Pair of Kings aired. It would have been better if they made a few switches. It could have even been somewhat forgivable if there was a recurring minor character of color. Sadly, there wasn’t. Everyone looked the same. 2. There were two Chases, two Brees, and one Adam in the team. Disney has long ago earned the reputation of having repeating archetypes in their programs—and the two shows, even as separates, weren’t safe from this. Still, they were all balanced out. Lab Rats' book smart, shy, sometimes egotistic, but truly kind character Chase Davenport was balanced out by his stepbrother Leo Dooley, who had impeccable street smarts, was rather mischievous, dangerously curious and clumsy, but was also ultimately good at heart. At the same time, Mighty Med’s resident teen doctor Oliver, who was resourceful, introspective, and the voice of reason, was balanced out by his best friend Kaz - his impulsive but loyal partner-in-crime who prevented him from being eaten up by his own seriousness through jokes and lax regard to the rules. When the shows merged, well, things went off-kilter. All of a sudden, the show had two young men (Chase and Oliver) with the leader personality. It was also evident from the sudden changes in the character’s clothing style that Skylar Storm had lost her individuality and her rather funny but genuinely heartwarming curiosity of the world around her. She had adopted Bree Davenport’s style and also, subtly, her treatment of the world and the people closest to her (which, if you haven’t seen the original show, wasn’t stellar at all). Kaz was the only one safe from the character cloning. Kind of. He remained to be the sense of humor in the show, but I can’t help but think when I saw the finale that he essentially served the same purpose Adam Davenport did in Lab Rats’ narrative. This lack of variation in personalities made for a bit of a static storytelling. One fanfiction writer who used to be really into Lab Rats told me a few months into the show that the characters brought out the worst in each other. Gone was the sweet Chase Davenport and was replaced instead by a character who had to constantly assert his dominance over his teammates. Oliver, whose affection towards Skylar had been cute and heartfelt to watch, had become obsessed with her and had turned stalker-ish, reportedly pressuring her into becoming his girlfriend. And the team as a whole had become a bratty bunch, too consumed now by their own importance and their own problems to show warmth and kindness towards one another. Again, this could have easily been prevented by making a couple of switches. The fanfiction writer part of me thought that it would have been better if the team was instead made up of Bree, Leo, Oliver, a new WOC character with a rather stoic personality, and Skylar, who would serve as the team’s leader. That could have offered an interesting dimension to the show: varying voices, potentially initial conflicts that can turn into warm, lasting friendships, and varying strengths and weaknesses that can play well with each other and can definitely move the story forward for a couple of years. Lab Rats: Elite Force was trying to achieve a Teen Titans feel, and those five could have done that. But, reality turned out differently, and there's no undoing what had been done. 3. The Villains in the Mask, Part 3. As much as I love the writers and creators of the Lab Rats universe, I do have a few complaints, one of which is: do the villains always have to be concealed or be wearing a mask? Victor Krane, and now Roman and Riker. All of them were introduced to the show wearing masks! Also, they all had the same reason for doing the villainy they did: revenge. Now, from the outside looking in, that may not be as bad. Revenge is a rather strong motivator, but in comparison to the best ones this show had seen, did it really have to be that again? I’ll give you the best villain Lab Rats had as an example: Marcus Davenport. He was an android bent on destroying Adam, Bree, and Chase—and most specially, Leo—for the sole reasons that (1) that was his order, (2) he hates them, and (3) he hated them because they had their father’s affection and attention, and he didn’t. What made him complex and gave him a nice layer as a character was that despite his manipulative and murderous nature, at the end of the day he just wanted affirmation and affection from his dad. From what had been revealed, the spin-off’s villains had a reason of their own to go after the protagonists. Roman and Riker’s father had been drained of his powers for his own good, but the boys and the rest of their family didn’t see it as such. They saw it as an insult to them, although if I’m not mistaken, the show didn’t really explain why they felt that way. It was just a reason that was just...was. In the finale, they introduced another villain: Roman and Riker’s sister, Reece. Oh, she was manipulative and cunning. She also seemed promising because there was a moment of doubt when she was caught red-handed by one of the good guys. She was torn on whether she should hurt him to make her escape or not (spoiler alert: she chose the former; she blinded him). But, that was as far as it went. As mentioned, the show didn’t come back for a season two—which still haunts the rest of the fandom even after two years of its sudden end. 4. Everything was rushed. Good stories take time. Like flowers, the characters and the plot need time to grow. The writers of Lab Rats understood that when the original show first began. We saw character development and storylines that were quite impressive, mature, and relatable despite the show being marketed for children. There were also plot twists that were actually incredible. It became a memorable show because the writing team took their time. In the spin-off, they didn’t. The best example is the Oliver/Skylar pairing. The two years of slow burn between the two characters quickly changed into a wildfire that was erratic and didn’t make sense. Oliver was strangely out of character, and Skylar only seemed to have agreed to the relationship because she got annoyed. The relationship was awkward because it was handled impatiently. Reece’s introduction was rushed, too. She was maybe shaping up to be the big bad of the next season, but unlike Marcus, whose presence and role were built slowly and surely, she was pushed in. So, maybe she wasn’t going to be the main villain? The ambiguity created by all of these off-paced writing turned off the viewers one by one. At the end of it, I heard more unhappy responses to the show than I did positive. Maybe, somehow, the show-runners knew about that, too. They just didn’t say anything about it. 5. ‘Who’s your audience?’ It’s important to know the answer to that question because if you don’t, it will show. Lab Rats was marketed to children, perhaps in the ages 8-11 demographic. However, it was crafted to also appeal to teenagers and adults who may have been curious about the new project of the That 70’s Show’s former creators. Mighty Med, basing on its writing, appeared to have been meant for ages 6-11. Fans of the show might disagree with me on this, but it’s good to remember that one of its creators also made ANT Farm, which had silly humor oftentimes. (Not a bad thing at all. It’s just revealing of its audience.) Lab Rats: Elite Force seemed to have had problems identifying who it should actually appeal to. Should it be written like Lab Rats had been written? With silly humor here and there but also with jokes that teenagers and adults would appreciate? Or should it be written like Mighty Med, directed to the younger viewers and used laugh tracks more often? Well, the winner remains unclear. The characters’ sudden immaturity suggests they wanted to appeal to the new audience, but their rushed treatment of the Skoliver pairing also showed that they wanted to please longtime viewers somehow. They also gave Bree a new ability, perhaps to keep the interest of the loyal fans, but it didn’t really serve its purpose. It was probably meant to have been a wow factor. Sadly, it was another thing that didn’t work because the people they were trying to direct it to have lost interest—probably because they felt that the writers had ignored them for far too long in favor of newer, younger viewers who didn’t even stick around to watch the show. Concluding Thoughts At one point, I kind of hoped, too, that the spin-off would be green lighted to have a second season. When it finished, the hard feelings I had against it was almost gone, and I was earnestly hoping they would come back. Whatever the real reason(s) may have been for it not being able to, the cast and crew still deserve credit for doing their absolute best to make the show as enjoyable as possible. The finale, in particular, had a few highlights, and the set where the battle scene took place was impressive. The cast also put their best foot forward. The writers, meanwhile, perhaps despite knowing about the impending end, really did craft something special for those who had stuck with them until the final second. Despite its problems and potentials that were not explored, Lab Rats: Elite Force still graduated as a nice show with moments of excitement, dashing costumes, and memorable sets.

[itsadrizzit]

monday, friday, september, please!

monday: do you struggle with the ‘boring’ parts of writing?

Umm... well right now I apparently struggle with *all* the parts of writing, sooo...

Honestly, idk what the boring parts are? I’ve never felt any part of writing to be boring. I mean, if you’re talking about the boring parts of a story, well, my attitude is that if I’m bored while writing it then someone will be bored while reading it, so I probably shouldn’t be writing it in the first place.

If you mean the things people traditionally seem to find “boring” with writing like outlining and planning and editing, then ABSOLUTELY NO. Those are the parts I’m best at. Sit me down and let me story plan for HOURS AT A TIME and I’m filled with joy. Actually writing the plan into a semi-coherent narrative.... nahhhh friend?

friday: most self-indulgent fic you have ever posted?

It’s a good thing this asks about the most self-indulgent fic I’ve *posted* because it means I don’t have to tell you about all these WIPs.....

IDK. I think they’re all self-indulgent to a degree, TBH. Like, I think to myself “you know what I want to happen??? and then I do it.

To some degree, Five Times Christian Eriksen Helped His Teammates With Their Problems fits this bill, since the only reason it was written is that a friend and I were sitting around basically tossing out more and more ridiculous scenarios about our personal headcanons of what really goes on at Spurs and then I was like, hey, you know what, we should make that a fic! And then podfic it! With other people! For a fic/podfic fest! Like... okay, Drizz... okay.

But, whenever someone asks me this, the first fic that comes to mind for me is Stay in My Eyeline. It’s funny because it’s still my most popular fic, I think, and it was the one that I was like... you cannot post this, it’s nothing but self-indulgent ridiculousness. Which just goes to show you (me) that sometimes YOUR self-indulgent ridiculousness is exactly what someone else wants to read for THEIR self-indulgent ridiculousness, too. So post whatever you want, really.

september: share a comment or review which still warms your heart?

Oh. Does it have to be a fic comment? Because I have a lot of them, but also I have podfic comments that I’m like... yaaaahhhhhhssssss over every time. 

(Since it’s you doing the asking, one of them is the comment @analise010 left on the podfic I did of “My Fair Lad” in which she was messaging me on WhatsApp when I was out shopping for her Christmas gift and I was literally walking through the mall staring at my phone laughing so hard I was crying:

“Okay. So. You are... THE WORST. I started this like, "Let's go on a journey." AND JOURNEY WE FUCKING DID.First with the eyeliner, I was torn between you making it such an intimate moment and screaming at Baby Garret(sp?) to stop being such a brat because do you wanna be an emo hottie or nah????Then they went to club and like... this is when I started talking back to the podfic. Voicing Cristiano's wistful inner monologue was one thing, but all of a sudden he's pressing his finger into this baby boy's mouth!I was okay until the shower scene at the end like, "Want some company?" I was making dinner, gasped, and had to step away from the counter because I could no longer cook and listen at the same time. This podfic is so disrespectful and I love you for it.“

(The WhatsApp convo featured her telling me she hated me and we were no longer speaking and that I cannot just disrespect her like this by making her FEEL THINGS for boys she doesn’t even know. It was a magical moment.)

But! I’ve re-read through all my comments and here is the one that I was like, practically in tears over. For one thing, it was on a fic that I LOVED but got very little attention for whatever reason, so I was glad to know it had left an impact on someone other than me. Second, it was exactly what I’ve always wanted. When I first started writing fic I would read other fics and I would say “someday, I want something I write to have as much of an impact on someone’s life as the things I read have on mine.” This fic comment, then, really made me feel like... yes. you’re here and you’re writing for you, but also YOU HAVE MADE MAGIC HAPPEN FOR SOMEONE ELSE and that’s goals.

Comment text:

“I’ve read this about five times and it gets better and better each time. I dont have the words to describe how good this really is, the amount of detail you’ve put into this. You’ve hit something inside me, in a good way, like my feelings and the fact this really got to me - what I’m trying to say is that this beautifully written.” (shout out to @heatherxlovett for this one, since I want to give credit where it’s due.

Like... it just made me feel like that past me who started writing fic in 2012 while knowing NOTHING ABOUT ANYTHING had finally achieved her goal and found that person who her stories could be for, and that’s a beautiful thing.

THANKS! Good question choices!

[dammitadolfnomorecake]

DOTW 51 - Full. With the nursery scene, it would have ended up being waaaaay too long, but now you know what's coming

Eren's had spent a week in hospital, his omega then returning fully over the next two weeks. It was a roller coaster for both of them. Eren still struggling to control emotions. Some days and nights were better than others. Some days Eren couldn't even get out bed, thanks to being exhausted by his nightmares or the inability to get comfortable. Then some days, he couldn't get out of bed without being reduced into a panicking mess over the smallest of things. Like Levi closing a drawer too hard... he'd taken his bad shift out on the cutlery drawer, causing Eren to bolted into the bathroom. He'd stayed there for the better part of three hours before calming down enough to come back out. Then there were the sudden bouts of anger that seemed to well up from nothing at all... He'd bought eggs without thinking about it, eggs still seemingly taboo in the apartment. Eren had lost hit shit over it, throwing each and every single one of the dozen at him with angry screams. If it'd been anyone other than Eren, he would have been pissed. Handling the situation like a mature adult, he'd laughed. He couldn't help it. Eren had run out of curses after the forth egg, just defaulting to calling him a "constipated arsehole", before getting flustered at himself over it all. It'd been adorable. His boyfriend might be ridiculously tall, but he was, as Hanji would describe, an "anger muffin". Impossible to actually be mad at due to the fact he was completely adorable. At 22 weeks, his boyfriend was a force to be reckoned with. His affectionate side had come back, Levi enjoying every second of it. Eren would have dinner or breakfast ready, and a bath waiting for him. His omega seemed to be prefer baths to showers, and didn't want to bathe alone. It only dissolved into sex half the time... He couldn't keep his hands off his mates stomach, pathetically in love with the swell and the future it meant. He was acting completely foolish, almost unlike himself. His protective instincts were only growing stronger, each time he left work, he forced Eren to lock the door properly behind him. It was the only way he could make through his shifts. That and when Eren was awake, they'd message back and forth all day. His omega choosing to throw himself into working through the books Levi had ordered for him. His drive to learn so great, that Levi had been thinking about asking Eren if he'd like to enrol in some online classes, or at least find a way for his boyfriend to get his high school equivalency. With how determined Eren was, he was sure he could manage it, especially with only 18 weeks being left until the due date of their pup. It all seemed like it was approaching too fast. Like if he blinked, he'd miss it, and he didn't want to miss a single thing in both Eren's and their child's life. With things finally looking better, Levi was finally able to bring the nursery issue up with Eren. His boyfriend had plenty of ideas, which surprised him. He'd thought Eren spent his time alone at home napping, cleaning or working on his studies. He hadn't even considered the fact that Eren might sneak into the spare room to take measurements, and compile a basic list of what he wanted via screen shots. All of it was perfect... Almost too perfect... yet quite unlike him, he didn't find himself dwelling on all the "what ifs" of the situation. Labour was dangerous. It'd never been a safer time to be having children, yet 830 women died a day due to pregnancy and complications. Males at an even higher risk as their bodies didn't stretch the way a female did. He knew if the fluid situation didn't happen to level out, that Eren would most likely require a c-section, and he knew Eren would automatically blame himself for it all. Finally getting two days off in a row, Levi had hit cloud nine. He'd spent the morning having lazy sex and snuggles with Eren. Their bed a complete mess by the time the two of the had crawled out of it. This had been followed by a quick hard fuck with Eren bent over the bathroom counter. Then had come showering with, and carefully cleaning out his blissed out omega. Eren coming with a whimper as he did. He'd wanted nothing more than to curl up with Eren on the sofa, and binge on a bunch of bad movies, but they were going shopping for nursery and baby things. His "suppressed" alpha constantly reminding him of the fact, as it wanted to show how good it was at providing for their child. There was also the fact that Eren wanted his hair cut, after trying to cut it himself in the bathroom, and the fact that nearly nothing of the omega's fitted over his swollen stomach anymore. Personally, Levi didn't give two shits if Eren wanted to walk around shirt free, or just in his bra. His lover's body was beautiful, and his developing breasts were perfect for holding onto when he mounted him from behind. He was lucky Eren felt the same way. He'd succeeded in making Eren come in his pants, by toying with his nipples while making out on the sofa. Eren's white dress was the only thing that properly covered his bump. Coupled with a pair of yoga pants and one of Levi's hoodies, his omega really didn't want to wear shoes. There was no way he was letting his boyfriend walk around bared foot getting all sorts of nasty germs all over them. His firm attitude led to Eren crying, but allowing Levi to put shoes on him... while leaving Levi feeling like a bit of an arse. Eren had enough problems as it was. His depression wasn't something magically cured by the return of his omega, it'd just helped to take the edge off. They still had plenty to talk about. For instance, the fact Eren thought himself a murderer, but that was barely remembered once they'd started being physical again. Heading to the closest shopping centre, Eren clung to him adorably... even if it was from anxiety. With his heartburn making breakfast nearly impossible, Levi was determined to do as much as he could for Eren. He'd gotten him to drink some milk, so his stomach wasn't completely empty. Not that it counted as breakfast in his eyes. He'd just have to trust that Eren would let him know when he was hungry. Walking into the department store, Levi snagged a trolley "Now. Anything you like, anything at all, you can get" "Mmm... I know. I, uh... talked to Marco and Hanji a little" "You've been talking to Marco?" "I thought I told you that Hanji brought him to see me. He apologised for being a bad friend... he came and saw me again, without Hanji and we talked a little... it's not like how it used to be, but he's... yeah. It's better" Levi wasn't sure if he liked Eren hanging around Marco again. Not when Jean was such a fucking arsehole. Jean getting into Eren's head, would be... no. Marco had to prove himself to Eren first, then maybe he would be allowed to visit... sans Jean. He might just tear that fucker's throat out if he had the chance "Ok. As long as you're ok with it, then I'll... be ok with it" "Don't worry. I'm not rushing to have them over. Don't give me that look. Your expression said it all" "I might just kill Jean if I see him" Eren swayed, before shaking his head. Fuck. He should have picked his words better. Taking a deep breath, Eren brought himself back under control "You can't do that. Marco's pregnant again" "Again? Haven't they heard of condoms?" "He smelt like it" "How old's Mina now?" "Uh... I think she was born in... November? No. We went on holiday in November. I can't remember, but like 10ish months? It's halfway through September... She looks so much like Marco" "Lucky girl. I wouldn't curse my worst enemy with Jean's looks" Eren giggled "That's harsh. I want our pup to look like you" "I know... but I've seen your baby photos, and I've seen you grow. I would be the luckiest alpha in the world if our pup looked like you" Eren blushed "Aren't you already the luckiest alpha in the world? My throbbing arse says you are" Eren's comment went straight to his dick. It was hard to believe he could still get hard enough how many times he and Eren had indulged in each other's bodies. Clearing his throat, his voice was slightly husky as he replied "Listen here, brat. If you keep that up, the nursery is never going to be done" 22 weeks may be too soon to start preparing the nursery, but it had now been months since he'd suggested it. He wanted to give Eren the chance to change his mind if he wanted, and wanted to give them enough time that they wouldn't be rushing to put everything together. What he'd read online said it was common for omega's to even nest in there when close to their due date. This was their first child. He didn't want to fuck up. That's why he'd chosen to go shopping before cleaning out the room. They could spent today and tomorrow making sure every purchase was just right "I'm just saying..." "And I'm just saying that I love you" "You love me enough to ruin my arse?" "And your breasts, and your mouth..." Eren playfully punched him on the shoulder "It's not my fault everything you do feels... good" "I know this pregnancy hasn't been easy, but... you've really opened up over being intimate" "I still can't... on my own. But with you, I want it. Only with you" "Does it bother you when I touch myself?" Eren's blush deepened "It... it's hot" He hadn't been aiming for a reply, but Eren's mumble was cute "I'm just teasing you" "You're an arsehole, old man" "Yeah. Anyway, baby shopping?" "Shopping for our pup. Not quite baby shopping. I think one is going to be hard enough" "Alright, brat. Point taken" "Good. If you behave, I might be persuaded to give you a treat" "I don't know if I can behave" "Then no treat for you. Come on, I want to get all the soft stuff first. I want to make sure it's all washed and sorted" Eren bopped him on the nose with the tip of his pointer finger. His warm scent rolling over Levi like the fresh rains of a storm, barely a note of anxiety to it. He was so fucking proud of him, even if he was a little shit. Walking a few steps ahead, Eren didn't realise Levi was still rooted to the spot, momentarily stripped of basic functions as rush of love filled his gut with warmth. Why the fuck hadn't he just proposed? Eren knew exactly what he wanted, that was one of the joys of actually going shopping with him. Though pregnant, he wanted to just get in, get everything they'd settled on, and get out... Then they hit the baby clothes. Getting Eren more maternity clothes had been easy. Soft and comfortable yoga pants and stretch belted jeans, couples with a few long sleeved shirts and bras that converted to nursing bras. Baby clothes sent his omega into while different kind of panic. Eren had picked up a soft fleece onesie and broken down. He wasn't crying, but his scent was definitely troubled and everything he picked up, he placed back "Eren, what's wrong?" Placing his hand on his stomach, Eren turned to him. His bright eyes filled with pain "Do you think I deserve to keep this baby?" "What do you mean?" "I... I don't know if I deserve this baby anymore... Levi... what do I do?" "You tell me what's going on, and we figure this out together" "I... my dad... he did something... It was horrible, Levi" Reaching out, Levi took Eren by the arm, gently pulling him close "You're not your father" "He... he took babies from omegas. How many omega's lost their pups because of him... 10 years... hundreds of omegas, Levi. And then he just dies. He dies. He... How do I live with that?" Hushing Eren softly, Levi nuzzled his neck "You live by loving our pup with everything you have" "Why? Why should I get to keep my pup, when they didn't?" "Because you weren't the one to take their pups away. That sin. That sin is a stain on your father, not you" "The sins of the father are inherited by the son" "That's a load of shit. I don't even know my fucking father and I, sure as hell, am not going to start cleaning up his shit. You're not him" "But Levi..." "No. This pup. This pup is ours. You're allowed to want this and to be happy. What he's done, it's not ok. And I will tell you as many times as you need, you will be an amazing mother. You're allowed to be happy and to love this pup" "I feel so guilty. Looking at all this. It's like... they never got to do this with their babies" "That's because the world is shit. They treat omega's like shit and walk all over them to make themselves feel better. It's not fair. To them or to you. I love you, and when you're ready to tell me more, I will listen" Grisha could go choke on a bag of dicks... or maybe a sack of balls, seeing he obviously didn't have a set. What kind of fucked up shit had the man done? And why the fuck... No. he just had no words for him "I don't want to remember, but how do I forget?" "I don't know. I love you, ok?" "I love you too, Levi. I... think maybe we... I don't know..." "We can go home, if you want? Or we can get a few more things. Or we can get the furniture? Whatever you want to do" "Can we do furniture? This is just..." "You don't have to explain. I understand" "I really... I don't even know what I'm saying now" "You're saying how much you love me, and how we're going to order way too much food when we get home. You're going to take a bath, and..." "How do you do that?" "Do what?" "Love me, so easily. No matter what I say" "It's your arse. I... love your arse. I was born gay, just to be with your arse. I'm not giving that arse up to anyone" Eren sighed at him, nuzzling and kissing his hair as Eren's hand found his "Why am I bonded to you?" "Because you love me" "Oh... I forgot about that" "Shitty brat. Eren, thank you. For trusting me enough to tell me" "It seems like I'm pretty much stuck with you, not matter what I do" "You're only just working that out?" "I didn't go to school, remember?" "As long as it's not my fault that it's taken this long to realise that" "No... No. You... You're my strength, Lee. Coming home to you, that's the only thing that kept me going. I love you" "I love you, and I think this is getting too mushy for a shopping trip" "You're probably right. I never really realised how small baby clothes actually are" "It'd be a bit weird if you just gave birth to a full grown adult" "Don't go giving him ideas... I'm already scared about the labour" "You'll be fine. I'll be with you" "Yeah... as long as he doesn't get ideas about coming too soon" "Don't go jinxing it" "I'm not. You're the one giving him ideas" "I can't help it. I never thought I'd be a father. I never even thought I'd find a mate, or have a family. This is all your fault" "My fault? I'm pretty sure you said you were born gay to be with my arse" "It doesn't sound romantic when you say it" "It's not romantic at all. At least, not to anyone butt me" "Did you just...?" "Maybe. What are you going to do about it?" "Just you wait until we get home. I'll be happy to show you just how much I love that arse of yours" "Fuck. I'm slick as it is..." "All the more reason we should grab what we planned and get home. You've turned me into a horny old man, who can barely keep it in my pants" Eren paused as he moved to step towards the shopping trolley "Do you... do you really find me that attractive? I... kind of just... feel fat" "I found you beautiful before you even fell pregnant, and I can honestly say I find you just as beautiful now" "Even though I look like this?" "There is nothing wrong with the way you look. And if anyone dares say otherwise, I will bash the ever living shit out of them" "Really?" "I promise" "Then I suppose we should get you home" * Their playful banter had helped distract Eren from his guilt. His omega had perked up when they'd moved towards furniture, only to deflate again until Levi started teasing him again. He'd never thought Eren would be subjected to the harsh reality of those who used and abused omegas. Not after Zeke's death. Knowing the cause of Eren's depression made things much more understandable, while the strength of Eren's trust in him was a little terrifying. With his omega rejecting the pup, and his guilt over carrying, the fact Eren hadn't done something extreme like aborting it, only served to weigh heavily on his mind. Eren kept going through the pregnancy because he knew how much he wanted it. That was all Levi could put it down to. His omega who'd so desperately wanted this child, hadn't thought to get rid of it, because he didn't want to hurt him. Sure, now that his omega had evened out, his moods had improved, but it must have been fucking hard for Eren to keep that inside. He'd probably only confided in Krista... They were lucky to have found such an understanding therapist, and one that Eren could vent to. Returning home from shopping, they headed up to the apartment. The larger items of furniture were being delivered the following day, while the car seat and the majority of the bedding was still in the car. Eren having slowly run out of steam and needing a nap. Lunch leaving his lover seemingly more exhausted than before they'd started eating. Letting Eren in first, his omega made to the sofa before sinking down onto it, automatically going to curl up on it, only to stop before his shoes touched the cushions. Waving his arm at him, Eren groaned "I'm coming" "My feet are too far away. This wouldn't have happened if you'd let me get away with no shoes" "No. You'd be taking a shower if you weren't wearing shoes" "So mean. I don't think you understand fat and swollen feet at all" "Your feet aren't fat" "They feel fat. I feel fat" Draping his waving arm over his face, Eren sighed dramatically "I'm beached" "Hi, beached..." He didn't even get to finish his sentence before Eren was throwing a cushion at him "Please, Levi. Just... help" Closing the apartment door, Levi decided everything down in the car could wait. Placing the bags of Eren's clothes down by the sofa, he squatted down to free his omega of his shoes. Eren moaning the moment his feet were both free "Thank you... I have no idea how full term people walk around or wear high heels" "I honestly don't either. Do you want to nap here? Or in bed?" "Bed. I want cuddles" "Cuddles or sex?" "Cuddles during sex?" Laughing to himself, Levi moved to lift Eren from the sofa "Cuddles during sex?" "I don't know. Why am I so sleepy?" "Because you had a big day" "I don't feel like I did" "You did, and you did good. You told me when you reached your limit" "I feel like my limit isn't good enough" "Eren, trust me. You did good" "I trust you, but I'm still gonna disagree" "I bet if you told Krista, she'd agree" "We are literally about to fuck or snuggle. I don't wanna think about anyone else" Sitting Eren down, Levi helped him out his jacket and dress, then bra. Eren flopped back as if in defeat, lifting his arse to be free from his yoga pants "Eren, how would you feel about topping?" "Topping what? Like ice cream topping?" "Me" "Levi. My brain is like... already shut off... I'm sorry. I can't think" Stripping Eren down, Levi was far less careful when it came to his own clothes. Slick had soaked his boyfriend pad and underwear, leaving them almost sodden. Something that should have revolted, and once would have. Now it just had him itching to mount his mate. Propping himself up, Eren smiled at him "You're so fucking sexy" "Says the guy oozing slick" "Mmm, but that's your fault. And I notice you left my bra on. Do you love my breasts that much?" "You have no idea what I want to do to them" "Oh, is that right? Maybe you show me" "I thought you were sleepy" "There's no way I can sleep after looking at your dick" How could Eren possibly be so shy about masturbating, then sprout something like that? "Is that so?" "It'd just be cruel to make you sleep like that" Pushing himself up to sitting, Eren pulled him closer. His dick brushing over his omega's breasts "Fuck, brat..." "You could take the bra off?" "Mmm. I could, but then what would I do with your breasts?" "I don't know... but I think I want to" "I have an idea, but I want you to know I'll stop if you don't like it, or it feels uncomfortable" "I want to try more with you..." "Eren. I need to hear you say it" It was probably pathetic, but every time they tried something knew, or if Eren didn't initiate it, he still wanted to hear that it was really ok. Eren hadn't had a full blown panic attack from sex since falling pregnant, but he had had a few moments when Levi had needed to step back and let his omega calm back down, even if Eren hadn't noticed them "Levi, if it's too uncomfortable, it'll tell you" "Thank you" Freed from his bra, Levi now had a firm hold of Eren's breasts, pushing them together as he massaged them firmly. Moaning, Eren's legs were spread wide as Levi slowly rocked up against his boyfriend. His erection was trapped between the soft warm flesh of Eren's developing chest, with each trust making Eren mew. He hadn't been sure Eren would into this, but the constant stimulation seemed to be driving him wild, as Levi's desire to cum across Eren's face and chest grew. He'd never thought he'd into titty fucking his boyfriend, but it was fucking hot, especially when Eren slid one hand down to start jerking himself off. Building up a constant rhythm, he felt the tell tale feeling, knowing he was going to come all too soon "Eren, can I come?" "My mouth... I want to taste you" "Are you sure?" "Please alpha... let me taste you" Keeping his hand on Eren's right breast, he used his left to guide himself into Eren's eager mouth. His omega immediately hollowing his cheeks and bobbing his head. Shit. Eren's technique had him weak the knees "Eren..." Nodding around his erection, Eren's eyes met his. That was it. He was gone. His orgasm hitting hard enough for left knee to give out. Awkwardly half kneeling on the bed, he pulled out Eren's mouth as his mate started to choke, coming down Eren's lips and chest, as his lover's come hit his leg. Panting, Levi's head dropped forward, still coming as he tried to catch his breath. No one but Eren had ever made him come this fucking hard, it was seriously verging on ridiculous and felt like what he imagined a volcano erupting would feel like. For some reason that escaped him, it seemed like he came more now that Eren was pregnant. Almost like he was trying to get him pregnant all over again. Milking the last few drops free, he dropped down onto the bed, next to Eren who looked just as fucked as he was. Looking to his mate, Eren caught his eye before starting to laugh "What?" "That felt... kind of amazing" "You're laughing because it felt good?" "And because you have to help me clean up. I think I'm just going to fall asleep like this" "Give me a minute. I popped half a knot" Rubbing his dick, Eren rolled towards him "I'm so not up for kissing it better" "Says the guy covered in my come, and groping me" "Mmm. I just want to touch you. I want to remember every inch of you" "Oh?" "Mhmm. Especially these 9 inches" Leaning in, Eren's lips still held traces of the cinnamon and sugar from the donut he instead on having for lunch. The slow kiss slowly grew more hungry, Eren moaning into his mouth as he release his hold to climb into Levi's lap. Not wanting to break the kiss, Levi pushed himself up, Eren's stomach big enough to make things uncomfortable for him if he hadn't. Breaking the kiss, Eren whined as Levi started to stiffen beneath him. Rolling his hips, Eren started to ride him slowly, one hand on his stomach to keep his balance. With slick pooling in his lap, Levi let out a growl, his dick demanding to be inside their mate instead of just fucking him between his cheeks. Taking hold of Eren's arse, he lifted him enough to line up, the omega so wet and aroused that he could slowly sink into his heat without causing too much pain. It had probably helped that Eren was also still loose from that morning. Topping from the bottom, he held Eren's hips down as he thrust up, placing Eren's pleasure and comfort above his own. With each thrust, more come would dribble from the omega. Having just come, Levi took his time in reducing Eren into a fevered mess. Loving the way he moaned and mewed so sweetly just for him. As Eren's breathing grew more ragged, he started to clench and ripple, his orgasm close, but knowing another orgasm would leave him boneless, Levi lifted Eren, keeping just the tip buried inside as he flipped them over. Spreading his knees wide, his pace grew hard, the sound of squelching slick and wet skin against wet skin as he rode Eren through his orgasm and into his own, coming with a deep and almost primal snarl. Beneath him, Eren's eyelashes fluttered, Levi's heart stopping for a moment. Worried he'd hurt his mate he reached to cup Eren's cheek, before rubbing a soft circle with the pad of his thumb "Eren? Hey. Eren, can you hear me?" His mate didn't smell pained, nor did he feel pain from their bond. From what he could tell, Eren had passed out as soon as he'd come. He'd expected bonelessness, not outright passing out, though Eren had been exhausted. Climbing onto the bed was awkward, the position he ended up in wasn't exactly the best for collapsing into after sex, but he'd rather not cause any unnecessary discomfort for Eren. Resting his cheek against Eren's swell, he peppered kissed to Eren's stretch mark spotted skin. He knew Eren applied vitamin E cream to each stripe almost religiously, but he loved the marks. He didn't care if Eren's stomach never returned to being perfectly smooth. Pregnancy was changing Eren's body in so may ways, and other than his rank farts, Levi had no problems with it all. When Levi's knot finally deflated, he pulled from Eren. Given the fact his boyfriend had started to snore, he was pretty sure he hadn't hurt him. Retrieving a warm towel from the bathroom, Titan had appeared in his absence. Sitting on Eren's pillow, he scowled at Levi as he started to clean Eren down, as if blaming him for the current lack of cuddles. Making sure his boyfriend was as come free as he could be, Levi them grabbed a fresh pad and pair of underwear for Eren, getting him redressed and settled on his side of their bed. He'd completely forgotten the sheets were still a mess from that morning, so he'd settled Eren on the top sheet as it'd come through relatively clean, then grabbed a few of Eren's other blankets out the wardrobe to cover him with. Chucking Eren's clothes in the wash, he forced himself to shower. He wanted nothing more than to climb into bed with Eren, but his mind niggled at him, reminding him of the shopping waiting in the car. Eren was soundly asleep, and sorely needed it, giving him plenty of time to head down and retrieve everything. * Eren was in a forgiving mood. Actually, he was in the best mood he'd been in since bonding with Levi. Confessing his and his father's sin to his alpha may not have been planned, but it felt like the crushing tightness in his chest had eased. Levi had said it was ok to love his pup and to be happy. That what his father did wasn't his fault. It was completely different hearing it out loud, and from the alpha he loved so deeply. He could have told himself the exact same thing until he was blue in the face and he never would have believed it for himself. Having fallen asleep during sex, he'd woken to Levi cuddles. His alpha reading while playing absentmindedly with his hair. Eren couldn't help the rush of affection he felt every single time he looked to his mate. When he'd realised Levi wasn't going to propose any time soon, saying he was crushed was the understatement of the century, but gradually he settled back down, realising that perhaps Levi was planning something special and needed time to do so. He'd vowed to himself not to say anything, not after subjecting Levi to some of the foulest moods he'd ever experienced. Like seriously, who the fuck just throws a dozen eggs at their partner. It wasn't Levi's fault he didn't remember. His alpha worked his fucking arse so that they could live such a comfortable life. His own inheritance had been delayed due to the ongoing investigation into his father by Floch. Though he may have neglected to mention to Levi that man had called to tell him that. Levi would worry himself sick over it all. His alpha used to claim he was terrible at words, but every single word that came from Levi's lips was with love. Even when he'd had a horrible day at work, and was all broody and scowly, if he accident snapped he'd apologise right away. With the help of Levi, he'd showered and dressed, before his lover settled him down on the sofa in the living room. Levi so insistent on helping, he'd had to shoo him out so he could go to the toilet. Pregnant people peed a lot... like.... a lot. Equal parts impressed and annoyed, he eyed the organised mess spilling of their living area. While he'd been sleeping, Levi had moved all the new things for the pup to his room, and dragged everything out the spare room alone. With the smell of vinegar in the air, he could tell his alpha would have scrubbed the spare room from top to bottom already. Levi had once explained that vinegar kills mould, while bleach only serves to bleach it. Maybe it was the expectant mum in him, but the idea of the nursery stinking of bleach made his stomach roll. He wanted to be able to work in there, without worrying about the smell sending him scrambling for the toilet. Passing him his phone, Levi ruffed his hair on his way pass to the kitchen. Opening his Facebook up, he found himself doing something he never thought he would. First unblocking Armin, then adding him and the woman called Mikasa on his friends list. His father had told him how close they'd been, and with Levi's words of how he wasn't his father's sin or whatever it was, echoing in his mind. He sent them both friend requests, before placing his phone down and snatching up the TV remote. He'd expected to maybe feel some slight nerves, but he was just too happy to. When Levi joined him on the sofa, Eren sank into his warmth. He might be a horny shit, but cuddles felt even better. His alpha scent of warm free tea with the lingering touches of his body was had his omega internally purring. Starting to nibble at the sandwich Levi had made, his stomach rolled before rumbling "I'm not surprised you're staving" "I honestly feel like I haven't eaten in years" "That's because yesterday all you had was a glass of milk and lunch" "Yesterday?" "It's about 2 am. You slept for a solid 12 hours" "I don't feel like I have. Why didn't you wake me?" "Because making a baby takes a lot of energy. You needed the rest, especially when you didn't seem to have any nightmares" "I can't remember dreaming... I can't believe I fell asleep during sex" "You managed to scare the fuck out of me. I had a feeling you'd be tired, not that you'd pass out and start snoring" Eren's face dusted red with embarrassment, whining as it did. Levi was supposed to be nice to him! "Don't worry. I'm not mad" "I am. I didn't get my after sex cuddles" "No, but you're having cuddles now. You're not too sore, are you?" "No... my hips are, and my back, and feet, and my shoulders, and I feel bloated... I think I just want cuddles instead of sex" "I was thinking we could sort the boxes?" The things Levi decided to keep were going to be stored at Hanji's house, seeing she owned her own home, and had the space in her garage for them. Erwin had offered to help, but Levi had shot him down "Mmm. Ok. Let me sit up, and where's Titan?" "He was in your room. He wasn't happy I stripped our bed down" "Titan!" "You're supposed to be eating" "I'm still eating. I'm just worried about my fur baby" There was the soft but solid thud of Titan's paws as he came running, leaping up to settle on the sofa, then immediately trying to get to Eren's sandwich "You should have left him sleeping" "But then I couldn't have shared with him" "You're not sharing with him" Titan meowed at him, one large paw coming up to hover just short of Eren's plate. His big eyes stared up at him, silently begging "Leeevi. How am I supposed to say no now?" "I'll give him a tin of cat food. Just finish your sandwich" Titan was a cat who's love was easy to buy. The moment Levi cracked the top of the tin of cat food, the tom was racing off to the kitchen. Finishing his sandwich, Eren placed the plate down with a pout. He wanted Titan cuddles, and Levi cuddles. Now his boyfriend was hefting a box up onto the coffee table and Titan was too busy eating "I think this box is mostly clothes" He knew he said he'd be there for Levi as he did this, but now he was getting nervous. He was terrible at comforting Levi and making him feel better. He never knew if he was saying the right things or making it all a hundred times worse. Tipping the box onto its side, Levi joined him back on the sofa. Pulling off the tap over the top as it did and sending a whole bunch of things cascading onto the floor "Yeah... clothes..." All of Isabel and Farlan's clothes seemed to have been second hand. Isabel had tried to patch them the best she could. Digging to the bottom, Levi wrinkled his nose in clear disgust "There's nothing worth saving in here" "Are you sure?" "Don't get too close, the bottom layers are mouldy" "Can't you just wash them?" "Mould stains. Even if I did, it wouldn't be worth it. I should have gone through these sooner" His boyfriend sounded bitter, Eren whining softly as he placed his hand on his arm "I'm sorry" "No. No, it's my fault. I don't even know how the mould got in. Something must have been wet. It's my fault" "It's not your fault..." Levi huffed, brushing him off as he rose and moved the box next to the door. The next four boxes were mostly clothes, but they were used to wrap more interesting things. Small photo frames, tea cups, plates, glass figures and chipped Christmas ornaments were carefully unwrapped. Eren couldn't help himself as he collected each photo frame carefully. Levi sighing heavily as he leaned over to explain where they were in each of them. Seeing Isabel's bright smile and Farlan's faked scowl, his heart ached. Levi looked so young and happy with them. Like... genuinely happy. The smile on his lips completely unguarded, not a single wrinkle of grey hair to be seen... He knew his boyfriend was drop dead sexy, but fuck... He fell in love with him all over again, and desperately wished there'd been a way to meet Levi back then. The frames were carefully put aside. The mould had gotten in between the photo and glass in some of them, but apparently there was a way to get them restored. Levi wanted to bin the ornaments and figured, but Eren wasn't having it. Carefully saving them for storage at Hanji's, and the three badly hand painted baubles with Levi's, Isabel's and Farlan's name on them. They were definitely going on the tree this year. It The way Levi joked about how much Isabel loved the "shitty things" was all he needed to know. Levi wasn't quite ready to get rid of them, even if he said so. It didn't matter to him if once they were in storage never they saw them again, as long as they were safe for a day when Levi might want to. The box that really broke Levi was Isabel's books. Like everything else, it may have been second hand, but her books. They were something special. Crammed full of notes and slips of paper, the woman's passion clear. Levi's scent turned troubled, emotional pain infecting him through their bond "Levi" The book in Levi's hands started to shake due to his alpha starting to tremble "I bought her this book. Actually, I stole it for her. She'd worked so hard to save for it, but Farlan needed a fucking doctor and medication... Before you give me that look, we were back in high school. This was her first new book on birds. She'd stared at it for hours... and it wasn't like I didn't have the money. You do what you need to, you know. But they took one look at me and refused to serve me. I had the fucking money in my hand, but... they weren't having it. With Farlan being sick, it was the last straw. I waited until the clerk was busy, then I bolted. It was fucking worth it though. She was so happy. She read it over and over... Even at college, with all the new big and better books she could use, she still carried this one. Farlan would joke she loved her book more than him" Levi let out a shaky breath, running his fingers through his hair "Fuck. Sorry. I need a drink" "I'll get you one..." They still had a couple of boxes left to go through... but with how distressed Levi seemed to be, he wanted to do everything he could to calm his alpha and be there for him "No. It's ok. You stay here" Patting him on the knee, Levi took the book with him. The alpha first disappearing into their bedroom, then to the kitchen. Sitting back on the sofa, Levi had apparently drained his drink in the kitchen. His alpha looking at the neat pile of books with pained eyes. Climbing into Levi's lap, he wrapped his arms around his alpha. Nuzzling into his hair, in the hope of providing comfort "Eren... just... not now" Pushing him off, Eren was confused. He was only trying to make Levi feel better. He wasn't kissing him, or trying anything sexual. He simply wanted to comfort Levi. His omega was just as confused. Their mate was sad. He didn't like his mate being sad "I just wanted to hug you" "I think I want to finish this alone. Why don't you go to bed?" He wasn't tired... and he thought Levi wanted to do this together? Besides, barely talked about Farlan... he wanted to hear more about him "I don't mind..." "Sorry, Eren. I want to do this alone" "I..." "Go to bed..." He was trying to tell Levi he loved him, and if he changed his mind to just let him know... and now he being sent to bed like a kid. He knew it wasn't easy for Levi to talk to about Isabel and Farlan, but he'd opened up to him about his father... and about Zeke, and his mum. So why didn't Levi want to tell him anything? Didn't his alpha trust him? Eren didn't sleep well that night. He'd returned to their room, only to find he needed to pee. He didn't want to upset Levi by walking around the apartment, so tried to sleep it off. It didn't work. Creeping from their bedroom to the bathroom, he was just as "ninja" as he crept back. The bottle of scotch had made it from the kitchen to the coffee table, while Levi was patting Titan. The cat purring with his usual rumble. So Levi didn't mind Titan making a fuss over him... as long as it wasn't his pregnant mate. Feeling pathetically jealous of Titan, Eren returned to their bed. Levi hadn't even remade it... getting fresh sheets would mean leaving the room again, and he didn't want to do that. All he could do was grab one of his blankets from Levi's wardrobe and make sure he was completely covered by it. The cold plastic of the mattress protector sticking uncomfortable to his skin when he slipped his hand under his pillowcase free pillow.. which was covered with a gross feeling fabric protector. He was cold and uncomfortable, the pup spinning flips from the feel of it. Closing his eyes, it was hard not to feel like he didn't even belong in their apartment. Still just as cold as when he'd gone to bed, Eren crept out when things went silent. He'd managed to doze off at some point, waking up, Levi had been swearing. He'd been tempted to go help him, but several loud thuds followed, then some of the more colourful language he'd ever heard. Scared by his mate, he'd sunk from their bed to the floor, curling up in the corner of the room as he'd tried to hide under his blanket. Emerging to find the living room cleaned, Levi was passed out on the sofa with Titan on his chest. The bottle of scotch was empty, the lone item left out from the night before. Even the boxes to go down to the dumpsters were gone. Hurt over the fact Levi hadn't even bothered coming to bed, he'd been tempted to leave him sleeping without blanket. The apartment was fucking freezing, his toes growing numb... Fuck. He couldn't just leave Levi like this. Retrieving the blanket he'd used, he draped it over Levi and Titan, Titan giving him a glare, but not bothering to move. If Levi could go ahead and do things for the nursery without him, that must mean it's ok for him to do the same? After all, the nursery was the whole reason Levi was home. It sure as hell wasn't to spend time with him... No. No. He wasn't going to do this. Levi hadn't really done anything wrong. He'd just needed space to process everything. It wasn't like his alpha didn't give him all the space he needed... and then some... Dragging all the shopping from his room and into the nursery, that was the end of his will power. He didn't want to do any of this alone. He couldn't do anything anyway, they didn't have the furniture yet. He didn't know what to do. He didn't want to go back to Levi's room and sleeping alone held no appeal... Things without Levi were boring... Wandering back to Levi, Titan had abandoned him. Levi had turned to his side, his leg hanging off the side of the sofa in a way that looked highly uncomfortable. His stomach might be slightly bigger than the photos on google, but he was sure he could lift Levi. He didn't want to leave him on the sofa. Dragging the coffee table back enough to make space, Levi was too out of it to know. His alpha even stank of scotch... lifting Levi, his alpha groaned at him "Let me sleep" "Shut up, or I'll drop you" Scowling up at him, he'd woken Levi... but he'd come too far to back out. He'd managed to even get him completely off the sofa... Fuck... Levi better appreciate this "Just put me down" "Not an option right now. You're going to bed you drunk" "Eren..." "Shut up. I'm mad at you. You didn't even make the bed. Do you know fucking cold it is?" "You're freezing" "And you're doing that things where you're talking and I don't want you to" Levi let a giggle. An actual fucking giggle. He wished he'd recorded, because there was no way anyone ever believe he had. Dumping him down on his bed, his boyfriend flipped him off before crawling under the covers and patting the space beside him "Get down here brat..." Climbing under the covers, Levi rolled and clung to him. Pulling him flush and nuzzling into his nape "Mmm. 'm sorry. I'm a jerk" "You are. You left me freezing" "Fuck..." Placing his cold hand on Eren's stomach, Eren gasped as he tried to escape, Levi's hold making it impossible "You arsehole" "Don't leave me. I don't want to be alone, again" The playfullyness of Levi's drunken state was gone, his alpha sounding so fucking lonely that Eren forgot he'd been trying to escape "I'm not leaving you" "Don't want to lose you, brat..." "You won't. I love you" Levi huffed, Eren copping a blast of scotch breath. He'd thought his alpha was going to say something else... only, Levi started to purr instead. Eren had no idea that alpha's could even purr. Fuck. He needed his phone. Not only a giggle but a purr... he needed Levi to get drunk more often.

[angmatipunongmananayaw]

My 8th Grade Crush

I got to admit that 2020 was like the worst nightmare I ever had but my mind and body are practically awake. Living. Surviving. Online class was a complete change for me, and it’s been hard for everybody. The idea of having girl classmates was thrilling since our school is an all boy’s school since then. Right after the bridging program it was now the regular classes that normally counts. I knew online learning will be a difficult task for me and I’ve ran out of motivation. There’s this girl who’s in the same section as me, as you guessed it, she’s one of my classmates. I remember knowing her back in 8th grade and having a thing for her, she’s known for being smart, talented, and pretty in her previous school that’s why I got interested and asked details around about her to some friends that are mutual with hers back in 2017. It’s a small world indeed, she’s now my classmate and I remembered all the cringy chat I sent her back then.

It’s now the September of 2020, things are going smoothly and I’m still adjusting and knowing my classmates especially the new ones. This girl still turns on her camera being charming and neutral writing down notes wanting to get through the day just like everybody else. I know she’s busy with all her studies and dance auditions back then running out of ideas on how to do different choreographies. I got to admit she’s cute and smart with her reciting a lot to the class and I only have a slight crush on her kind of like a simple adoration. My friend likes her since the very beginning of classes, no hard feelings though I support him fully, or do I? hahaha joke!

16th of September was a remarkable day that I won’t ever forget, one of my friends that are friends with her said that she likes me. I was so shocked and didn’t know what to do at that time. So, basically our mutual friend snitched on her so I felt pretty bad too. I really wanted to talk to her but I can’t push myself to do it. I was being a coward regarding my feelings but I sort of managed. Two days after, I sent her a message. I didn’t exactly tell her that I knew right away, I just offered that I wanted to be friends with her but I think she knew it along the way. I know confessing my feelings and proposing to court her was a bit too far with the fact that we’ve already built a bonded friendship with each other. So, I guessed that the least thing I can do is tell her I like her? But of course I chose not to do that and chose to be a wimp because what if it’s all fake news? Me taking risks needs a lot of work and so does me being afraid to be rejected and being a coward as well.

 I exactly don’t know why did it happen to me all of a sudden. It was a roller coaster ride of emotions for me. Maybe because I’m too afraid is because it might all be untrue or that she only adores me in dancing because she loves to dance too. But I don’t know, I’m always a product of rejection anyways so I think it might be all up in my head or I’m just simply scared.

 As you guessed it, the long-hidden feelings grew bigger and bigger. We talked every day and night she was easy to talk to and I get along with her a lot in things because we share lots in common. Who wouldn’t fall for such a girl? So, the day came and I finally admitted everything and gladly it went pretty well and smooth. I think the best answer why I encounter such events is that maybe God is teaching me a lesson to better out my risk-taking personality and He’s signing me that wimp and cowards don’t get the best out of everything.

 In conclusion, I can be better in these instances if I embody the famous quote “taking risks is better than having regrets” because it’s true though. Since the whole 8th grade crush situation happened, I’ve done many things that are risk worthy and as usual, it turned out to be super fun and fulfilling inside.

[pawpels]

Without Anesthesia: Chapter 13 - “Wie Schön sie sind, Herr Göring!”

Read it on AO3, DeviantArt, or FanFiction.net  Author: Pawpels

Miraculous: Tales of Ladybug & Cat Noir English, Rated: PG (ish) Slice of Life/Romance/WWII AU Characters: Marinette Dupain-Cheng/Ladybug, Adrien/ Chat Noir Chapters: 13/?, Words: 26,770, Status: In-Progress __________________________________________________________ Summary: Marinette Dupain-Cheng works as a field nurse for the French army during World War II, and Adrien Agreste winds up her patient after a battle. Notes: First, because this is Tumblr I want to be clear that the title is a sarcastic quote from the fic and not an actual statement about Nazi Official, Hermann Göring. Next, although you're probably used to the graphic descriptions of wounds at this point, this chapter also contains references to a physical altercation that could be considered extremely similar to abuse.Brief mention of injury to a child. There's also mild profanity in this chapter. __________________________________________________________

Before the child had woken from her mid-day slumber, a decision had been reached as to the fate of her arm, and it was not one about which Marinette felt comfortable.

The doctors had very quickly deemed amputation to be the most reasonable pathway, and had sent the girl to the proper team almost immediately upon arriving at the conclusion.

Marinette did not think the decision itself was necessarily the wrong one given the present circumstances—after all, the child couldn't feel the arm, couldn't move the arm, and already had a sickly yellow pooling at the end of her fingertips which could only mean that blood wasn't circulating either—but she was perturbed by the fact that she would not be allowed to assist.

Although most of the doctors at the base were more than willing to take her on as an aide for her skills alone, there were those who refused to work with a nurse whose linguistic abilities were not up to par. In the case of an amputation—and one involving a child no less—Marinette had been instructed to stay away.

She tried her best to bide her time. She knew, of course, that such a surgery would not be completed quickly, but an infinite number of possible complications meant that the wait was agonizing. She roamed from room to room, theatre to theatre, hoping to find something to take her mind off of her worries. She even opted out of her breaks and lunches after discovering that her idle mind contained flashes of only the absolute worst outcomes that could possibly befall such an undeserving recipient.

When, shortly before dinnertime, she heard her named being called frantically from the next room, her heart jumped into her throat and threatened to escape out her mouth. She dashed over, fearing the absolute worst, only to be met with a trio of truly frazzled nurses, who seemed to be too exasperated to be bringing news of the child's surgery.

"She won't stop speaking French!" the nurse cried, "We can't understand a word she's saying!"

"Won't you please talk to her?" asked another.

"Get her to calm down!" griped a third.

It took Marinette only a second to assess the situation. Inside of the room was a small, ill-mannered woman—or perhaps only a girl—no older than she, with mousey-brown hair that was more a mess than even the most overworked nurses and factory women would have thought proper to keep. She lay on a cot in the middle of the room, covered head to toe in all manner of injuries—some still only half-bandaged—and screamed and beat her mattress in a self-flagellating fury. The other patients cowered in fear of her, although it was obvious from her flailing that she was unable to rise up and attack them.

"Please calm down!" Marinette cried out as she entered the room.

Perhaps it was the sudden loud noise, or perhaps it was the fact that she had found another body speaking her native tongue, but the thrashing stopped suddenly, and the girl blinked at her in wide-eyed confusion, as though she had only just realized what a racket she was making.

"Now," Marinette continued calmly, as though she were hoping to impress upon the other that she was quite certain she was speaking to a sane individual, when in reality she had no idea if that was the case, "can you tell me what's wrong?"

"We're at war, dimwit," the girl spat.

Marinette was taken aback by this response, but she pressed on: "I… was hoping you could tell me about your injuries."

"Gee, sure, ma'am. I'd love to!" the girl smiled sarcastically, "This one here is from where they beat me. And this one is where I got slapped across the face. Like the blood? It's from the officer's stupid wedding ring—the cheating bastard. Oh! And this one here's from his boots when he was trying to crush my lungs. You ever had a punctured lung?"

Marinette couldn't say that she had. The girl kept going.

"I've got scratches from the forest, blisters from my shoes, bruises from being dumped in a trash-bin, a black eye and bleeding lip, and this lovely little lady right here."

The girl lifted up the tattered edge of her shirt to reveal a bullet wound that covered more than half her abdomen, nearly a week old and completely untreated.

"We need to take a look at that," Marinette tried to say calmly, but the panic of seeing such a large and grotesque wound on such a tiny person—especially one who seemed to care so little—threatened to creep into her voice with every syllable.

"What's the point?" the girl asked, her angry sarcasm melting into a defeated tone. "I'm no good to anybody now. Never was."

"I'm certain that's not—" Marinette began.

"Look around!" the girl cried, "I could have prevented this! I could have prevented all of this!"

"There's no way you could have—"

Although it had been many months since she'd had the opportunity to practice her skills, it seemed that Marinette's presence alone was enough to induce candor in even the most guarded individuals.

"I could've and I should've," the girl said with an air of finality, but she continued anyways. "See, I was a spy for the—"

"Should you really be saying that so loudly?" Marinette asked in a whisper, as though the walls had ears.

"They don't understand a word we're saying," the girl almost laughed, "Dumb Brits. Only speak English. Est-ce que tu me comprends?" she shouted at a terrified looking woman who showed absolutely no sign of understanding.

"At least let me examine your cuts," Marinette muttered as the girl continued with her story.

"I was a spy, see. For the French first, and then the British when we damn near lost it all, but pretending I was working for the Germans. I spent near eight months working for the bloody Nazis. Bringin' em tea. Pretendin' I respect 'em. 'Ah, Herr Goebbels, möchten Sie etwas Tee?' "Wie schön Sie sind, Herr Göring!" Bastards."

As the girl engaged more and more passionately in her narrative, Marinette had the opportunity to examine more of her wounds. She motioned to one of the other nurses, who was still hovering in the doorway to bring some antiseptic and bandages and got to work on the tiny, stinging cuts on her legs and arms.

"I heard everything. Every meeting, every conversation, every plan. They thought I was a regular German citizen. Sometimes I'm glad my father was so insistent we learn to speak it right, because I wouldn'ta lasted a day if they knew I was the 'enemy.'"

She paused and chuckled… "Well… they sure found out alright. Stupid."

The other nurse had returned with the requested supplies, plus a small pair of tweezers, and Marinette had begun the arduous effort of cleaning every individual wound on the girl's body.

"I heard about the errant bombers back in August. I knew they were errant, but by the time I'd managed to phone base, they'd already sent retaliation to Berlin. I knew I could have called earlier, but I was scared of bein' caught. Scared in September too, but I had to risk it. I knew where the planes were headed. I knew WHEN the planes were headed."

Marinette tried not to look it, but she was absolutely enthralled by the girl's story. She almost hoped it was true, although it was just as likely that her patient was absolutely loony and she was audience to little more than a delusion. Still, her effortless German and knowledge of specific occurrences gave credence to her tale.

"I thought maybe I could sneak into the marshal's office late past midnight and use his private radio insteada meeting up with my usual contact. Only… he wasn't sleepin' too well that night, and he caught me speakin' French into the microphone."

"So he did this to you?" Marinette asked.

"All 'cept what the branches added," she shrugged, "Say, you done pretty good on those scratches. Why didn't I notice you doin' that?"

"A nurse's touch, I suppose," Marinette replied nonchalantly. In truth, recounting her tale seemed to be acting as its own sort of anesthetic for the girl, who hadn't once noticed the stinging antiseptic solution which had touched her open wounds no less than a dozen times already.

"Right," she continued, "and I got a high paint tolerance. Always have. If I didn't, we probably wouldn't be talking. You ever have a broken rib? No, I asked that already…. You ever play dead after someone shoots you?"

Marinette couldn't say she'd done this either.

"Could I take a look at that?" she asked instead.

"What do you care what I give you permission to do?" she griped, but in-genuinely enough that Marinette took it as consent. "You already patched up the little stuff I told you not to. Why don't we just fix everything? Gimme a new set of organs while you're at it. I'm sure you got plenty layin' around these days."

Obviously, she was used to the dark sarcasm and gallows humor that the girl seemed to be using to cope, but it was true that the hospital had lost its fair share of patients this morning, and there were undoubtedly many more innocent bodies in the streets and morgues that had not made it to their doors.

"Anyways… The Marshall—after he's pretty sure I'm dead—has his officer thugs toss me in the dumpster, like I'm human garbage. Probably didn't want his fellow assholes to know he'd personally hired a spy to be his damn maid. I wait until it's quiet and then work my way outa the bag and try to meet up with my contact, but he's nowhere to be found. Maybe he split. Maybe his passport went through and he moved outa this hell hole of a continent. Maybe the Nazis found him first. I don't know. Either way, I'd lost my damn contact, and I couldn't just use any ol' radio."

"So what did you do?" Marinette asked, genuinely curious. She'd now fully accepted the story as being true.

"I walked, of course."

"But… the channel-"

"I walked and hitched rides, and then I took a boat. Stowed away on a cargo ship, thank goodness, and ended up arriving while the bombs were falling. I walked all the way from Berlin, and the sky was already on fire."

"You did everything you could."

"I could have waited, like a goddamn intelligent person, until I'd got a hold of a secure line. I coulda found a radio instead of tryin' to get to headquarters myself. I coulda called in back in August. Maybe I'da died then, but if Churchill hadn'ta sent those stupid planes to Berlin, maybe we coulda avoided this whole mess."

Marinette gulped. She wasn't sure, but she would bet her salary that those were the very planes she'd discussed with Private Lahiffe—one of which, she was quite certain, contained the soldier who continued to consume her thoughts even to this day, Private Agreste.

Still, Private Agreste was not at fault for this. This girl was not at fault for this. Even the politicians and generals who had ordered the attack couldn't have expected this level of retaliation for what she assumed had been a fairly small number of bombers. Destruction aside, the whole thing just felt so inevitable. So childish. So… stupid, as the girl had said.

"Sometimes things just… happen," Marinette said in a way that was meant to be comforting, but felt more foreboding than anything else.

"It's just wretched. All over a steaming pile of crap... And now I've blown my cover at the Reichstag, so I can't even work there again. If Kim gets a punch in on ol' Adolph, I won't be around to see it."

Marinette let the comment pass. It was common to hear talk of personally assaulting the Füher, but something about the way the girl said it felt familiar. Perhaps Kim was a fellow spy. She wasn't sure.

"Let's talk about your wound."

"What's to talk about?" the girl asked.

"First of all, the bad news. The bullet's still in there, and I don't think it makes sense to take it out at this point. You said you got shot several days ago, right?"

"Yeah. I'm only here today because someone shoved me too hard in the panic. Made me black out, and next thing I know I'm in a damn hospital bed."

Marinette continued: "The good news, though, is that it's healing cleanly. You'll always have a scar, but you can cover it easily with clothes and it shouldn't cause you any pain. Everything on your arms and legs should heal too."

"Gee, thanks ma'am. I lost my job, but at least I'll always have my looks," she replied mockingly.

"Perhaps you could enlist, or work as a nurse?"

"Like you? No thank you," the girl snorted, "Not that I don't appreciate what you're doing, but I don't take orders so good. Thought about joinin' the army once I realized I could, but I wouldn'ta made it through training. Too spirited, my dad says. Too independent, I say. I think Kim liked to call me a brat for it, but he's dumb as a box of rocks anyways."

"Can I ask what your name is?" Marinette asked, suddenly realizing she'd never asked.

"It's Alix, ma'am. Alix Kubdell."

"You're joking," Marinette gawked.

"Yeah, that's the kinda thing I'd joke about," Alix said, wrinkling up her nose.

"I served with your brother back in France. Jalil, right?"

"No kidding?" This time it was Alix's turn to be shocked. "It's the smallest world, I swear. How's the idiot doing?"

"I'm not sure…" Marinette confessed, "I know his unit is in Narvik. My friend Alya sends me letters, and she says things are going well. I can give you the address if you want to write to him."

"Damn, maybe I'll go to Narvik. I bet they don't know me in… Sweden?"

"Norway."

"Nah, can't do Norway. Too cold. I'll find somethin' south-side to do once I'm all healed up. Italy, maybe. I really screwed this one up, but we still have a war to win. I've got money on it."

She gave a sudden start, as though she'd remembered something important.

"Actually, I've got money against it… but some bets you just gotta lose."

[beebovee]

Hope Underneath (Ch. 1-2)

Introduction: The Girl I Once Knew

Sometimes I still believe I'm that little girl who would do cartwheels all day, singing christmas songs in september, and running barefoot after the ice cream man. She was so fragile, yet, extremely alive. Waking up at 5AM almost everyday, watching her favorite disney movie, followed by eating chocolate for breakfast. This little person, she had so many dreams; she could get lost for hours just in her own mind. Everyday there was something to be done, a new adventure awaiting, all in the same house and simple backyard. She overflowed with kindness and understanding, there was no way anybody had a chance at stealing that from her. Until eventually, this little girl changed, and as much as she tried to stay who she was, life’s trials overtook her.

Yesterday, I was somebody that I can probably never be again. Today, I am deeply troubled, punished by my own decisions. I would not say I’ve grown up, because in me there’s a child who is trapped in a black box, waiting, still believing there’s a chance that her life will begin; the life that she has always prayed for. And it’s difficult because I am the one who makes every decision, I call the shots. At one point, it was like I didn’t even decide anymore. I just surrendered. I just threw my hands in front of me, willingly allowing myself to be cuffed, chained, and thrown into the river. If it wasn’t for Jesus, I would have drowned by now, but at least I know there is one good thing living in me that can never die. For a moment I felt done for, a lost cause, a deteriorating corpse with skin. Thanks be to God that He has promises on my life.

There was always something about that time in a romantic comedy when everything got serious for a moment. When the girl stops falling for the jerk, or the boy finally realizes it was time to stop being a jerk, and tell the “nerdy” girl he loved her. I lived for those moments. Then there were the pure moments in fictional films, where the fairy godmother showed up, or when true love broke the spell. All together, when good prevailed evil, when the sun came up, when the tears only lasted but a moment's time; those moments, were the ones I yearned for in my life. So much faith that, when I was feeling hopeless, I would remind myself of the things in life we can be sure of; like how the sun will come up every morning, even on the darkest of days, behind the clouds, that the sun was always shining bright. 

Today, I have trouble being so hopeful. Although I'd like to think I am, I have to be honest with myself; there was a time very recently where I felt like I had given up. I completely let myself slip away, almost as if I put my true self into a coma. The only reassurance I had  was that underneath all of the resentment and self doubt, I still believed. I still loved the beautiful things, the things that appeared almost impossible. I loved good news, and the fact that babies were being born everyday, and people were overcoming diseases. I realize that loving these things, admiring the goodness, it is only a sign of an undying hope in my heart. I, myself, have not recently acted as a person of hope, but I have it, nonetheless. 

It’s difficult being in a position where you can enter the path to victory, or continue to choose the path of desire, which not only leads to dissatisfaction, but leads to destruction. Those fairytale movies truly did me in, because although they are beautiful, for someone like me, a love-sick, hopeless romantic, they caused trouble. I tried so hard to find adult romance at such a tender age. I was always hoping for a love story, a miracle. A man who would change everything about himself and do everything possible to make me happy. Someone who was troubled, but turned their life around because I’m just so special. Yeah, well, that didn’t work out so well. I got the “bad boy” but didn’t get much good out of it  (woah, shocker). We’ll get more into the details later. What we are going to do right now is go back to the beginning. Where it all started, and why I am where I am today. I am unashamed, and I believe there is power in sharing a story, and sorting through trauma. I know I am not the only one who has gone through what I am about to share, and I firmly believe that doing this will continue to help me move forward and heal, finally. Without further ado, let’s dive in. 

Chapter One: Almost Free

At the tender age of seventeen, I was getting out of my first “serious” relationship. It was definitely High School puppy love and lasted a little over a year. During this time, I was also heavily in church and was entering the last six months of my High School career. My plan was to graduate, enjoy the summer and then do a 9-month internship at my church come Fall. My boyfriend and I,  at the time, were shaky. I knew he was messing around with another girl, but I was so naive and just fearful of facing the truth. I also truly believed I loved him so much. It wasn’t too long until it was blatant in front of my face. At school one day, during the passing period, he was standing there cupcaking with a girl, casually in front of my class. I didn’t know how to act, I was so hurt so I just proceeded like I didn’t care, but I knew I had to make a decision. 

That same night, I went to a small group that I was in for church and I was just crying, and saying how much I loved him and wanted to try to make it work. Everyone there was telling me how there should be no question at all, it was time to leave. Block him off of everything, avoid him at school, etc. I kept saying to them “I’m not ready!”, until I realized, I would never be ready. Jesus himself pleaded with God before He went to the cross, but He knew it’s what needed to be done (Matthew 26:39). Moses doubted himself, but God ensured Moses constantly that He was with him. So after this revelation, I was feeling empowered to the max. I blocked that boy and didn’t even give him the chance to see my face. And for months after this, I heard from so many people how he had been cheating on me for a while, so it was good riddance.

 After a week, I was glistening with joy, just happy, free. And for a split second, it seemed like I was on my way to better days. I was making new friends and even had a little flame with this boy in my English class. I just had constant smiles, until one Sunday came around. I was eating at Applebee's with my family and I got a message on twitter from a boy named Sonny. Little did I know that my next step after this moment would dictate the next six years of my life. 

Sonny had popped up in my life about two years prior to this day, but it was very brief. That explains my confusion when he messaged me on twitter that day. His exact words were, “I like the blonde look” and heart emoji(s). Since I didn’t remember who he was at all,  he expressed his shock which helped jog my memory of this person. Then, ofcourse, in my painfully naive “single girl” mind, I thought to myself, ``It doesn’t hurt to play”. So at that moment I had already decided I was going to entertain him, because he had always expressed his interest and attraction to me in the years before this. I mean, why not just have a little fun, right? 

We began to text and then talk on the phone constantly. I am a major talker, so it was always very fun for me. We did this for about three months before we went on our first date. I learned he was in college, played basketball and also lived in a nice area. Sounds like a clean cut kid, right? At this point,  I am loving the attention. We were always laughing and joking, and he just made me feel like I was the most beautiful thing to touch the planet. I grew fond of him quickly. On our first date, he picked me up from a friend’s house and took me to a waterfront. We got hot and heavy fast. Although at this point, I was still a virgin, and the worst I had done was make-out with a guy. Honestly, I would never even let a guy touch my leg or anything, it was that serious. Things were different with Sonny, though. That’s something I admired about him, he always made me feel very comfortable in my decisions. I know you’re wondering if I did the big three letter word that night, but no, I did not. He surprisingly “waited” eight months for me. 

I got my first hickey that night, and experienced a level of intimacy that I never knew could be possible without being naked. When he drove me home, he said, “At every stop sign or stop light, I want to kiss you.”, which was the cutest thing ever to me, and the butterfly’s just never left. When he dropped me off at home, he almost crashed into the mailbox when I kissed him goodbye. I went inside and my mom saw the hickey on my neck and went crazy on me, she was so angry and I started to cry because I realized I had done a horrible thing. Maybe some of you reading this might think, “that’s literally nothing”, but at that time, it really was everything to me simply because I had always held myself to very high standards. I had dated other boy’s for months and never let them touch my arm, or even put their tongue in my mouth but now all the sudden I was comfortable enough with a practical stranger. I would like to point out how significant this was. This was the first situation between him and I where I was convinced  to give up all of my morals, virtues, and beliefs. He truly made me feel so comfortable, and I ate it up. A hopeful, faith filled girl like me, I began to trust him with everything.

We got serious very quickly, and I was falling hard. He made me laugh, he was sweet to me, he treated me like a baby and I loved it. We were always talking, always. He always wanted to show me off to all of his friends and would make me sing for them on the phone. Pretty soon he started to invite me around them. They were all really funny, and for months I could never truly bond with any of them because I was so shy and nervous. Sonny wanted me around everyone, any chance he got. We would either be in the car or in his friend Manny’s garage, which always gave me anxiety because I would be the only girl most of the time. There were also times during the week where Sonny would take me on lots of dates and adventures. We would go to tons of places, he was always really fun and creative. We spent every waking moment together. If we weren’t together, we were on the phone talking for hours upon hours, and we’d sleep on the phone too. Everything seemed amazing to me because we were so inseparable. I fell hard for him, very hard.

Sonny smoked a lot of weed, and I didn’t really mind it, even if I didn’t smoke. That’s pretty much what he and his friends would do, just smoke, play video games, watch funny movies or even play basketball. I never expected him to dabble in other drugs because I just didn’t think people our age really cared, of course, because I was very naive. On my 18th birthday, Sonny came with his friends Sal and Darnell, whom I had never heard much about before this day. I was expecting the other friends that I was used to. I was confused as to why they were all holding coffee cups (which ended up being Codeine and Promethazine mixed with soda), and I actually believed they were drinking coffee that night. This was obviously recreational but sadly, it opened doors for him, but we will get more into this later. Sonny was so shy but I remember my family being welcoming and even my sister was trying to include him (which is surprising to think since she absolutely despises him now, for good reason). It was a fun night, but the days to come would bring a major shift.

Chapter Two: True Colors

Sonny started to hang out with Sal a lot more and Sal would always come with Sonny to my house. Sometimes we’d watch movies and would all fall asleep. One time, I woke up to Sonny’s phone vibrating and it was in his hand so, myself, being nosey, I looked at it and saw messages from someone in his phone named “best friend” with the dancing girl emoji. We were already four months into our relationship, I thought I had met all of his friends already, so how could I miss his “best friend”? I was too scared to ever bring it up so I eventually opted for being sneaky instead. I wasn’t a very vocal person at this time, I never wanted problems with anyone, especially the love of my life. I also would notice a girl on Twitter who would like a lot of his tweets and I often wondered if she could be the same person, but I just didn’t have enough evidence or energy to look further.

About seven months into our relationship, Sonny and I went on a date and that night things got really heated for us and he said it was the perfect time to do it. I was scared, but like I’ve said before, he made me feel so comfortable, and I also thought maybe if I did this, he wouldn’t want to talk to other girls. After three days of going back and forth, I eventually gave in. As an 18 year old girl who is a sucker for the romantics, you’d think my first time would have been amazing, but it was not, it was only amazing for him. It was just not at all how I thought it would be. I was expecting a bed, flowers, gentleness and kissing, but it was just the opposite. I started to cry after, only because I felt I was spoiled goods at that point, and was hoping it would have at least been romantic to make it worth my while. I never stayed sad for long, though, and it wasn’t too long until I began to love doing it. The next few weeks to come, that’s all we did whenever we had the chance.  

One night, I snuck out and Sonny picked me up so I could sleep at his house. That night, he fell into a deep sleep, and I couldn’t help but look at his phone. Let me tell you, I was not expecting at all what I was about to see. Maybe girl’s flirting with him or something, but not this. I not only found out who “best friend” was, but I saw sexting, and flirting like if he was in a relationship with this girl. Her name might as well have been, “Girlfriend” in his phone because of how much they were talking. I was so confused. I saw FaceTime calls, phone calls, and all I could think was, how does this man have the time? He had been talking to this girl for months. Her name was May and I guess they had known each other from camps that they would both attend every year. Let me tell you, this girl was the biggest hater on planet earth. In their text threads I would see how she would spend so much time saying horrible things about me. It made me think about how I had no idea who she was at all, yet, she was spending her time talking about me everyday? It blew my mind. It just didn’t add up, and was extremely pathetic. And Sonny never stood up for me either, he would just laugh at the things she’d say. I always think about how I should have just ended it there, but I was just not who I am today. I was too soft and always gave people the benefit of the doubt.

Not only did I see this, but I found naked pictures of some girl on his phone, and a video from March of that year where another girl was performing a sexual act to him while he recorded. I was crushed, all I could think was “What do I do about this? Why is this happening? I thought we were happy? March? We went on our first date in March? How did I miss this?” It drove me nuts. But I still didn’t know what to do. After we woke up the next morning, Sonny drove me home and I just texted him about it after he left. And I tried to break up with him but he swore that that video was so old and that there was no way it could have been from March. In regards to that girl May, he said that he used to talk to her the year prior but that he left her for me. He swore to me that the only reason he kept talking to her was because she was a good friend, and a nice person (my eyes are rolling). He also said that all the things he had said to her was just him messing around, that she knew he was with me and that’s just how they would “joke” with each other. He said to please give him another chance, that she meant nothing and he was going to tell her how much he loved me. 

Sonny posted a picture of me on his Instagram where he expressed how much he loved me to all of his followers. He also sent me screenshots of the messages where he told May that he couldn’t be her friend anymore. He told her that he loved me and was serious about me only. Of course, I ate it all up. I mean, this is my man, he loves me, of course he would never hurt me. I was crazy, and just too overdramatic. Obviously, my man got my back; or, so I thought. 

Chapter Three: Turn The Cheek

As I look back and remember all of this, it just makes me realize how mentally and emotionally absent some people can be. Sonny was one of those people. His way of life truly confused me. I would see the truth but would delete it, copy his truth, and then paste it onto my mind. I did not think anyone would go so far to keep someone. I thought, if he loves her, wouldn’t he just leave me? But he would not let me go. There was no chance in hell. It makes no sense. How did he cry and beg, and beg, and beg again, then beg more for me to stay with him, and promise to change, and then go and do it again, that many times. Obviously, this goes back to my big heart, vulnerability and easily manipulated mind, because I should not have stood for this. You have no idea how hard it is to forgive myself for that. What’s even worse, this was only the beginning, not even a year of us being together yet. I just had so much hope that he would change.

Clearly, Sonny did not stop talking to May. There was even an incident where this girl messaged me saying, “He loves you and you only, I promise. Please don’t leave him. I promise I will leave him alone. I really care about Sonny as a friend, but for you both, I will leave him alone”. Yes, I believed the girl and had sympathy for her, which was pathetic of me. I told her they could stay friends, and obviously the same situations kept happening. This began to feel like a never ending cycle. Wasn’t she tired? Clearly he was with me. However, that can be turned around. Wasn’t I tired? Clearly he was not going to let her go. I hate to say it, but I saw him as a prize. I wanted to win. I wanted to be on top and show that girl how he loved me and could care less about her. I wanted her to hurt. I wanted her to cry. I wanted her to feel as humiliated as I had been feeling. Eventually, I forced him to block her (Ladies, do not ever force your man to block someone, that is their responsibility. If they cannot see it's wrong, leave. If you do not trust him, leave.) which did nothing, because he always let her back in. 

Remember how I had mentioned an Internship at my church? Well, it was still going to happen… (To Be Continued…)

[jooheon09]

A/N: This is an angst Jimin ff i hope you enjoy

Warnings: Language

Regrets

You and your boyfriend Jimin were always together, you had fun together and did everything together.

You guys were inseparable..until one day it all came crashing down..

Want to know why?...continue ahead

Narrators POV

You were sitting in the couch one day..a September 3 waiting for jimin to arrive at your house since you two have planned to go to the movies. The tv had all your attention until a car honked in front of your house making you glance at the door and smile knowing that it was Jimin. You turned off the tv and grabbed your purse that was beside of the controller making your way to the door. You got into Jimins car after making sure you locked your house.

“hey baby” he said and kissed your lips and of course you responded by kissing him back but he pulled away

“hey honey” you greeted and he drive to the movie theater

The whole car ride was filled with you and Jimins laughter and singing songs that played on the radio.

Some minutes after Jimin parked the car in the movies parking lot and you both made your way inside hand in hand like the amazing couple you guys are.

After a lot of thinking you decided to watch Mulan because you loved the animation movie.

Some hours later the movie was over. Jimin took you home and you showered and fell asleep.

The days passed and passed but one day you woke up and glanced at your phone expecting to see one of those beautiful morning messages that Jimin always sent you but you didn’t see the message on your phone which msde you worry.

You brushed it off since you figured that maybe you woke up too early.

Hours and hours passed and no sign from Jimin at all, at this point you were really worried.

You couldn’t stop the urge to go to his house so you grabbed your phone and car keys and drove to his place.

His car wasn’t there meaning he wasn’t home, you let out a sigh and took out your phone to call him..you waited and waited to see if he picked up but nothing.

You drove to his favorite café and saw his car on the parking lot which made you tilt your head in confusion.

You parked your car and head to the clear doors of that café but the sight in front of you broke your heart.

There he was..Jimin..kissing some one else. Your tears started falling but you cleaned them and put yourself together. You entered that café and looked at him “be happy Jimin” you said and he pulled away from the girls lips wide eyed

“Y/N baby its not what it looks like” he said and looked at you

“Thank you for making me happy at least” you said and walked out of the café and got in your car

Your tears slid down your cheeks once again as you started the car.

Jimins POV

I was in a café enjoying a coffee with a girl that I liked her name is Seulgi..yes I know I have a girlfriend.

I felt the need to kiss Seulgi so I did..but it was the worst mistake I have ever done, I heard Y/N voice and I pulled away from Seulgi..and told Y/N what all the guys say to their girlfriends when they cheat..

I didn’t go after her when she left because I knew she wouldn’t want to see me right now so I finished the coffee and took Seulgi to her house, after that I drove to my house and flopped on the couch as all the thoughts of what happened In that café filled my mind as regret cursed through my veins.

Y/N POV

I was crying so strongly.. I couldn’t accept the fact that he cheated on me.

I’ve been driving for hours now I stepped on the gas as the thought of Jimins lips pressed against those girls lips ran through my mind as my once again filled with tears and I pressed the gas harder as the tears messed up my vision.

Narrators POV

You drove faster and faster in rage till a sudden impact made you black out.

Jimin was watching tv when a sudden news interrupted the game making him frown

“they interrupt an important game to some news fucking kidding me?” he scoffed

“an awful accident has happened on the road 164 it seems that one of drivers was over the speed limit since tire marks are everywhere on the scene of the accident both drivers were alone and both are in critical condition” the reporter said and Jimin looked at the crashed cars that were behind the reporter and widened his eyes when he saw that it was your car.

He immediately grabbed his things and drove to the road of the accident.

He parked his car and got out panting and crying “which hospital is it?” he asked the police men

“Which person are you looking for sir?” the man replied

“Y/F/N Y/L/N she is my girlfriend” he choked out and the police told him where you were

He drove to the hospital as fast as he could

Jimins POV

Its my fault its all my fault I never should’ve cheated on her I should have texted her in the morning like usual and when she relied I called her but no I was with Seulgi instead of being with the girl that I love damn it

Narrators POV

Jimin kept blaming himself for all that happened until he got to the hospital. He ran inside and asked on the desk where you where, he hurried to your room and opened the door

There you were witch machines attached everywhere and with a tube down your throat that helped you breathe..your body practically lifeless and filled with bruises

He covered his mouth with both hands as he sobbed and cried looking at you

“baby...im so sorry..i regret it baby I regret cheating on you im sorry” he cried as he held your hand

Y/N POV

I opened my eyes to the feeling of someone holding my hand bit I didn’t bother to look I felt so weak and the feeling of pain all over me

I gripped on the hand that was holding mind thinking it was my mom or something but once I looked down I was wrong..it was Jimin

Jimins POV

I was resting my head on the edge of the bed still holding Y/N hand when I felt her hand grip mine and my eyes shot up

“baby baby hey can you hear me love?” I asked and called a doctor

“im here baby’’ I said and kissed forehead

Narrators POV

The doctors came into the room and told Jimin to get out of the room which he did and the doctors took the tube out of your throat once they saw that you could breathe well and reacted well to all your senses.

Jimin was permitted into the room again and he stayed by your side

“jimin” you spoke and he glanced at you

“yes love?” he responded

“why did you do it?.. why did you cheat on me?” you asked and he looked down

“i..i wasn’t cheating on you..i mean..i did but I wasn’t in a relationship with her..that was the first time that me and her kissed me and her are just friends and that kiss meant nothing” he explained and you looked at him just nodding

“im sorry” he apologized

“I forgive you but I swear that if you do it again im gonna chop your dick off” you said and glared at him

“that’s my best feature” he said and pouted making you smack his chest

“I promise I wont do it again baby” he said and pecked your lips softly and you pecked his lips back

One month passed and you got out of the hospital

Jimin treated you better than he did and everything went back to normal

You were happy that everything was fixed and ever since that accident your relationship with Jimin got stronger

Everything in life has a purpose

The end

A/N: Thank you for reading!! Remember that my suggestions are open!! Love to you all!!

[camryndaytona]

Queer Happiness

Since it’s pride month I’ve been seeing a lot of people making lists of books with LGBT characters, which I think is a wonderful thing to do. However, there are a lot of books with LGBT characters that may not have a happy ending or that may focus entirely on troubling issues such as discrimination or the AIDs crisis. While these are certainly important topics, I wanted to share a list of books that may have a much happier message.

Wonders of the Invisible World by Christopher Barzak Published by Knopf Books for Young Readers on September 8, 2015 Pages: 352

Seventeen-year-old Aidan Lockwood lives in the sleepy farming community of Temperance, Ohio—known for its cattle ranches and not much else. That is until Jarrod, a friend he hasn't seen in five years, moves back to town and opens Aidan's eyes in startling ways: to Aidan's ability to see the spirit world; to the red-bearded specter of Death; to a family curse that has claimed the lives of the Lockwood men one by one…and to the new feelings he has developed for Jarrod.

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Everything Leads to You by Nina LaCour Published by Dutton Books for Young Readers on May 15, 2014 Pages: 307

A love letter to the craft and romance of film and fate in front of—and behind—the camera from the award-winning author of Hold Still.   A wunderkind young set designer, Emi has already started to find her way in the competitive Hollywood film world.   Emi is a film buff and a true romantic, but her real-life relationships are a mess. She has desperately gone back to the same girl too many times to mention. But then a mysterious letter from a silver screen legend leads Emi to Ava. Ava is unlike anyone Emi has ever met. She has a tumultuous, not-so-glamorous past, and lives an unconventional life. She’s enigmatic…. She’s beautiful. And she is about to expand Emi’s understanding of family, acceptance, and true romance.  

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Love: Beyond Body, Space & Time by Hope Nicholson, David Alexander Robertson Published by Bedside Press on September 30, 2016 Pages: 125

"Love Beyond, Body, Space, and Time" is a collection of indigenous science fiction and urban fantasy focusing on LGBT and two-spirit characters. These stories range from a transgender woman trying an experimental transition medication to young lovers separated through decades and meeting far in their own future. These are stories of machines and magic, love, and self-love. This collection features prose stories by:Cherie Dimaline "The Girl Who Grew a Galaxy," "Red Rooms"Gwen Benaway "Ceremonies for the Dead"David Robertson "Betty: The Helen Betty Osborne Story," Tales From Big Spirit seriesRichard Van Camp "The Lesser Blessed," "Three Feathers"Mari Kurisato "Celia’s Song," "Bent Box"Nathan Adler "Wrist"Daniel Heath Justice "The Way of Thorn and Thunder: The Kynship Chronicles"Darcie Little Badger "Nkásht íí, The Sea Under Texas"Cleo KeahnaAnd an introduction by Niigaanwewidam James Sinclair "Manitowapow," with a foreword by Grace Dillon "Walking the Clouds".Edited by Hope Nicholson "Moonshot," "The Secret Loves of Geek Girls"

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Queens of Geek by Jen Wilde Published by Swoon Reads on March 14, 2017 Pages: 262

Three friends, two love stories, one convention: this fun, feminist love letter to geek culture is all about fandom, friendship, and finding the courage to be yourself. Charlie likes to stand out. She’s a vlogger and actress promoting her first movie at SupaCon, and this is her chance to show fans she’s over her public breakup with co-star Reese Ryan. When internet-famous cool-girl actress Alyssa Huntington arrives as a surprise guest, it seems Charlie’s long-time crush on her isn’t as one-sided as she thought. Taylor likes to blend in. Her brain is wired differently, making her fear change. And there’s one thing in her life she knows will never change: her friendship with her best guy friend Jamie—no matter how much she may secretly want it to. But when she hears about a fan contest for her favorite fandom, she starts to rethink her rules on playing it safe. Queens of Geek by Jen Wilde, chosen by readers like you for Macmillan's young adult imprint Swoon Reads, is an empowering novel for anyone who has ever felt that fandom is family.

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Not Your Sidekick (Sidekick Squad, #1) by C.B. Lee Published by Duet Books on September 8, 2016 Pages: 283

Welcome to Andover… where superpowers are common, but internships are complicated. Just ask high school nobody, Jessica Tran. Despite her heroic lineage, Jess is resigned to a life without superpowers and is merely looking to beef-up her college applications when she stumbles upon the perfect (paid!) internship—only it turns out to be for the town’s most heinous supervillain. On the upside, she gets to work with her longtime secret crush, Abby, who Jess thinks may have a secret of her own. Then there’s the budding attraction to her fellow intern, the mysterious “M,” who never seems to be in the same place as Abby. But what starts as a fun way to spite her superhero parents takes a sudden and dangerous turn when she uncovers a plot larger than heroes and villains altogether.

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Draw the Line by Laurent Linn Published by Margaret K. McElderry Books on May 17, 2016 Pages: 516

Adrian Piper is used to blending into the background. He may be a talented artist, a sci-fi geek, and gay, but at his Texas high school those traits only bring him the worst kind of attention. In fact, the only place he feels free to express himself is at his drawing table, crafting a secret world through his own Renaissance art-inspired superhero, Graphite. But in real life, when a shocking hate crime flips his world upside-down, Adrian must decide what kind of person he wants to be. Maybe it’s time to not be so invisible after all—no matter how dangerous the risk.

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Last Seen Leaving by Caleb Roehrig Published by Feiwel & Friends on October 4, 2016 Pages: 336

Flynn's girlfriend has disappeared. How can he uncover her secrets without revealing his own? Flynn's girlfriend, January, is missing. The cops are asking questions he can't answer, and her friends are telling stories that don't add up. All eyes are on Flynn—as January's boyfriend, he must know something. But Flynn has a secret of his own. And as he struggles to uncover the truth about January's disappearance, he must also face the truth about himself.

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Ash by Malinda Lo on September 1, 2009 Pages: 264

Cinderella retold In the wake of her father's death, Ash is left at the mercy of her cruel stepmother. Consumed with grief, her only joy comes by the light of the dying hearth fire, rereading the fairy tales her mother once told her. In her dreams, someday the fairies will steal her away, as they are said to do. When she meets the dark and dangerous fairy Sidhean, she believes that her wish may be granted. The day that Ash meets Kaisa, the King's Huntress, her heart begins to change. Instead of chasing fairies, Ash learns to hunt with Kaisa. Though their friendship is as delicate as a new bloom, it reawakens Ash's capacity for love-and her desire to live. But Sidhean has already claimed Ash for his own, and she must make a choice between fairy tale dreams and true love. Entrancing, empowering, and romantic, Ash is about the connection between life and love, and solitude and death, where transformation can come from even the deepest grief.

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Carry On (Simon Snow, #1) by Rainbow Rowell Published by Wednesday Books on May 9, 2017 Pages: 522

Simon Snow is the worst Chosen One who's ever been chosen. That's what his roommate, Baz, says. And Baz might be evil and a vampire and a complete git, but he's probably right. Half the time, Simon can't even make his wand work, and the other half, he starts something on fire. His mentor's avoiding him, his girlfriend broke up with him, and there's a magic-eating monster running around, wearing Simon's face. Baz would be having a field day with all this, if he were here — it's their last year at the Watford School of Magicks, and Simon's infuriating nemesis didn't even bother to show up. Carry On - The Rise and Fall of Simon Snow is a ghost story, a love story and a mystery. It has just as much kissing and talking as you'd expect from a Rainbow Rowell story - but far, far more monsters.

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