Swifty_Fox
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The whales are there for only a few minutes, surfacing once more and then never coming back up as the light fades to an inky black night, nothing but the ship's lights creating a halo of visibility around them. Winter clouds above, there are no stars to differentiate the sky from the sea. It's a cold, unsettling feeling, and John’s hairs are rising on the back of his neck, Alice rolling over waves he can’t even see. A speck of life dropped off the end of the world.
“Entering the crab grounds now, boys. Everybody on deck to load those pots and drop ‘em down.”
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An au posed by the simple question: What if you took the enduring love of John and Gale and combined it with the hit 2005 show Deadliest Catch. -
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“It’ll be fun,” Marge says to him over the phone as he’s unpacking another box in his tiny, studio apartment. “I’ve been to a few other classes, it’s a good environment.”
“It doesn’t sound like my sort of environment, Marge,” Gale says, picking up an astrophysics textbook that pushes the bounds of what a single-handed grip is capable of. It strains the tendons in his wrist as he tries not to drop it on the way to its new home in the built-in bookshelf. The edges of it are bloated, almost rubbery with how many times it’s been painted over in the same shade of white, a few spots chipped away to show rich brown wood underneath.
“Your sort of environment is on a hill with a telescope, with nobody around.”
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He didn’t want to name it, because if he named it then he would have to acknowledge it. And if he acknowledged it he would have to do something about it.
This is John's end of the war.
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the long awaited Kingdom for a Kiss sequel
updates every other WednesdaySeries
- Part 4 of sonnet of the sweet complaint
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“Everything alright, Deputy?”
“Yeah, Tim, fine,” Raylan says, voice distinctly thick, “I got a question for you.”
Tim throws another shot of tequila, “Shoot.”
“Did you take my form?”
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or, the five times Tim, did Raylan Givens' paperwork, and the one time Raylan did Tim's
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“Do they know I’m divorced?”
“Christ, Buck,” John scoffs. “They’re not from the Dark Ages.”John brings Gale home for Christmas. A Dom Gale fic
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- Part 4 of everything and the kitchen sink
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"I think there's something wrong with me." It's a whisper dragged from Samira's lips, from the very depth of her.
"I think I might be a bad person." Chokes on it, on the pain, on the terrible truth, the indictment of her soul, of her morality, of her humanity. The evidence - plain and simple - that Samira Mohan was rotten to the core.
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or, The Evolution of Samira Mohan in three acts.- Language:
- English
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Bookmarked by Swifty_Fox
24 Feb 2026
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A fanvideo and accompanying ficlet in which John and Gale get through their time in the Stalag by imagining a future together herding sheep in the mountains of Montana.
Bookmarked by Swifty_Fox
19 Feb 2026
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"I got a young kid here, decorated sniper in Iraq war. Army Ranger. I don’t know how many kills he had. Always looking to kill somebody else. Probably got PTSD. Probably an alcoholic. Not a matter of if that powder keg is gonna blow but when."
That powder keg blew when Colton Rhodes killed Mark; Tim just did a good job of hiding it for a while. Until one night, a cowboy walked into a bar, and found a fugitive sitting next to the Lexington office's favorite sniper.
Tim's not okay, and Raylan is apparently incapable of leaving it alone.Set between seasons 4 and 5, largely based in events of season 4.
Bookmarked by Swifty_Fox
30 Dec 2025
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After two long years serving time for "degeneracy," Tim Gutterson is released from prison way Upstate with just a pack of Lucky Strikes and a couple of quarters to his name. It's enough for him to make a call to Raylan Givens, his benefactor of sorts, a man who took him under his wing when he first got to New York City armed only with his trumpet and a dream of becoming a real musician. Raylan took care of him once--would he do it again?
Bookmarked by Swifty_Fox
30 Dec 2025
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Raylan plugs at the hazard lights with two fingers. “You alright?”
The cadence makes it come out with the leveled candor of You Are Not Alright. Tim’s gaze flashes.
“Oh, I’m just peachy. Eager to get back home so I can go crosseyed and forget what I already did the slow work of burying, why? Car’s fucked?”
“You seem peckish.”
Tim’s knuckles tighten in their fist around the plastic handle. “I’m always peckish.”
Bookmarked by Swifty_Fox
30 Dec 2025