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Climb aboard, prepare your canons (and fanons), and set your heading for Michael Vlamis and Tyler Blackburn as they dive into the ship between their characters on The CW's Roswell, New Mexico.
⚓ Anchored by @chero, and featuring questions and ship posts from: @malex-crack, @quiet-echoes-in-the-dark , @orchardsinsnow, @olga-artwork, @i-am-a-mess24-7, @nostalgiaisabitchhuh
Roswell, New Mexico: After a decade away from home, Liz Ortecho returns to her native Roswell to care for her ailing father. When she arrives, she reconnects with her high school crush Max Evans, who is now a police officer. Their chemistry is electric, but Liz soon learns something shocking: Max and his siblings are aliens who have kept their abilities secret their entire lives. As they grow closer, Liz struggles to keep the truth from her best friend Maria, and her high school ex, Dr. Kyle Valenti, but concealing the siblings' true identities is more important than ever, as a long-standing government conspiracy and the politics of fear and hatred threaten their lives.
Riverdale: Archie Andrews starts the school year with the world weighing on his shoulders. He's decided he wants to pursue a future in the music business, but his recently ended clandestine relationship with the music teacher has left him without a mentor, and his friendship with Jughead Jones is in a bad place. Things look like they might be turning around when Veronica Lodge, a new girl, arrives. Despite the instant chemistry, Veronica is hesitant to risk a friendship with Betty -- who has a crush on Archie -- to pursue anything. Amidst all the small-town banality lurks a mystery: the recent tragic death of Jason Blossom, the twin brother of beautiful and popular troublemaker, Cheryl.
there’s nothing more tragic than a writers room that changes and develops until they don’t even care for or care to get to know their protagonists- like worse than any plot or character assassination they could manage is the complete lack of care and understanding of the characters that is the cruel hand behind the puppetry
“Hey, were you expecting a package?” Michael calls from the hall where he’s just closing the front door.
Oh fuck. He’d meant to intercept that particular delivery before Michael saw it. “Um, yeah,” he answers. “That’s, uh, it’s for me.”
“It says ‘personal care products’ on the outside. Did you get us some new, fancy lube?” Michael asks, and when he rounds the corner to the living room, he has his pocket knife out and is about to open the box.
“No!” Alex says, and Michael whips his head up at the sharp tone. Alex takes a breath and modulates his voice to something more reasonable. “I mean, it’s just something for me. Not us. But I guess you could use it, too, if you want. You don’t have to. I don’t know if I’m even going to. It seems kind of pointless…”
Michael folds his knife closed and sets it and the package aside before stepping in to rest his hands on Alex’s shoulders. Michael’s giving him a little space, and Alex sighs inwardly, wondering what stay back vibes he’s giving off.
“Hey, Alex? You know how you don’t come down into my lair without checking it’s okay first?” Michael asks, squeezing his shoulders briefly when he nods. “I can give you space around stuff, too. You just gotta let me know. If this is something private that you don’t want to share, I can respect that.”
Alex scrubs a hand over his face and steps in to close the distance between them, staring pointedly at Michael’s chest through the open collar of his shirt. “It’s not like that. It’s not a secret, it’s just embarrassing. I–” he hesitates and then finishes in a rush, “bought one of those calming face masks.”
And what does it say about Alex that he’s more embarrassed about buying skincare products than sex supplies?
“Okay,” Michael says slowly, dragging out the word. “I’m a little disappointed it’s not fancy lube, but you’re gonna have to explain what’s embarrassing about one of those facial mask thingies.”
Alex sighs and sinks down onto the couch, pulling Michael to sit next to him. “It was a–I guess you’d call it a homework assignment, from my therapist. She’s been encouraging me to stretch beyond my comfort zone, small steps, and this was her suggestion. It’s something totally frivolous and self-indulgent. And my dad,” Alex swallows and gives himself a moment before continuing. “My dad is still in my head more than I like to admit. He would have said something like this was girly and used it as further proof that I’d never be a real Manes Man. So we thought this could be a good fuck you to dear old dad. Something that pushed me a bit, but still felt doable.”
Michael cups his face, thumb brushing over his cheekbone, before he leans in and presses a gentle kiss to Alex’s lips. “I’m proud of you. And it sounds like we have an at-home spa day in our future. I’m sure Iz has candles or essential oils or whatever that she’ll be more than happy to tell me how to use. I can give you a massage, you can show me how to use the mask without it getting caked in my stubble…” Michael trails off.
Alex lets the silence sit between them, lets his mind wander to what a spa day with Michael might be like. What a massage from Michael might be like. And when he flushes, it’s not from embarrassment. “I know you’re disappointed I didn’t buy us any lavish sex supplies, but we do have that Gun Oil that Max gave us when he realized what he bought wasn’t actually oil for his gun–”
“We don’t know it was from Max. It just showed up on our doorstep one day, in its plain, discreet packaging,” Michael interrupts, laughing.
“Its previously opened and resealed with duct tape discreet packaging. It was Max,” Alex says. “But, regardless of the source, I was thinking we could add a bath into our spa day?”
“That can probably be arranged,” Michael agrees, leaning in to kiss Alex again. This time, there’s nothing gentle about it.