#⬴ Prompts & Memes ⸻ Don’t run. You will only die tired.

[grcvityfclls]

Tourist guide by day, explorer of the unknown of Gravity Falls by night. Usually accompanied by Terbium, his giant black wolf dog. Years after an unforgettable summer with his grunkle Stan, Dipper returned to Gravity Falls after graduating from high school and studying the mysteries of the known world. Knowing that he has by no means solved all the mysteries and now ready to tackle them, he helps in The Mystery Shack as best he can. But the dangers are greater and more violent than in the summer with all its wonderful adventures.

❝ 𝘛𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘫𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘯𝘢𝘭 𝘵𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘯𝘰 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘎𝘳𝘢𝘷𝘪𝘵𝘺 𝘍𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘴 𝘐 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘴𝘵. 𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘣𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘢 𝘩𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘨𝘯𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘴 𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦-𝘣𝘺-𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘰𝘯𝘦, 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘻𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺'𝘷𝘦 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘣𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘺 𝘢𝘭𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘨𝘰𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬. ❞

#𝘨𝘳𝘤𝘷𝘪𝘵𝘺𝘧𝘤𝘭𝘭𝘴: headcanon based & selective portrayal of 𝙈𝙖𝙨𝙤𝙣 𝘋𝘪𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘳 𝙋𝙞𝙣𝙚𝙨 from 𝘎𝘳𝘢𝘷𝘪𝘵𝘺 𝘍𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘴 𝘣𝘺 𝘈𝘭𝘦𝘹 𝘏𝘪𝘳𝘴𝘤𝘩. 21+ only , m+pdni, mutuals only, spoilers and triggering content ahead. canon-divergent and aged up for comfort reasons. ger/eng. This blog is still a WIP. est. 08.24 | 𝚁𝚄𝙻𝙴𝚂 & 𝙲𝙰𝚁𝚁𝙳

⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ↟ If you've read this far: send prompts! ↟

[luimagines]

Hi! I have a request, but first i wanna say your writing is absolutely amazing! The length + amount of time you put into these prompts is insanely good. Now! Onto the request, how would the boys react to a reader from a more modern era? Maybe a more modernized hyrule or our current point in time?

Masterlist

Thank you so much for the compliment! I'm happy to see the response even if this blog is still relatively new.

I hope I do your prompt justice.

I probably could have done a headcanon list but I was hit with inspiration.

I also might have given Reader some backstory.

Scenario below the cut! It’s long, take caution.

It was a cool night, but you didn't mind. Your bed was warm, the WiFi was fast and even if it was three AM on a school night, you managed to keep yourself giggling with cat videos and blursed memes until the words and colors merged.

A night well spent.

But it led to questionable decisions.

Even if the shredded cheese in the fridge was beginning to seem a more and more enticing snack, your body was tempted to succumb to slumber.

Until a large purple light encompassed the entirety of your window.

Something was in your backyard.

Aliens. Your tired brain supplies and you sprint to the glass and push away the curtains. Is this it? Is this where I'm kidnapped and never seen or heard from again?

You pull out your phone and open up the camera.

"Pics or it didn't happen." You remind yourself and snap a few before showing your face.

What you see isn't what you're expecting. Instead of a flying saucer in the sky beaming down a laser or a weird pear shaped space craft on top of the grass, there's a single panel of glowing light, swirling with black accents that creeps in a circular motion.

"Cheese and crackers...." You gasp and begin to blatantly stare at it with no regard to whether something may be coming out of it.

You wait and nothing happens.

You wait some more and nothing happens.

You spend an hour watching this portal that has appeared out of nowhere, waiting for something to happen, willing for something to happen. But you get nothing.

The unknown stares right back at you, unblinking and unchanged.

Go through it. A voice tells you. What if there's something on the other side?

"I'm going to die." You gulp and take a deep breath.

Who else gets a chance like this? The voice talks again. This could be a grand step towards a more modern society. A whole new world could be on the other side, waiting, reaching out, calling to humanity!

You think you a see a shadow move behind the portal and out of sight but it’s gone before you can even process it.

"Should I call the police?" You step away from the window, ignoring the thoughts, the voice- you're too tired to know if it's your own any more. What's the plan? How does one go about something like this?

Where’s your sense of adventure? Pack a bag and go! What if it goes away?

That last thought seems to get through to your tired brain and for a reason beyond your understanding, it latches onto it.

Now you’re excited.

You run to the closet and take out your old backpack. It used to be for school but it was fancier since it was the only one you could get. The bag had a replaceable water bag with a plastic straw connected through the back of it and the straps have just worn down enough to where they’re actually comfortable. It doubled as a hiking backpack and came with its own insulated lunch box that clasped on the back of it.

It’ll finally serve its purpose.

You quickly roll up your favorite blanket and strap it in tightly beneath the lunch box. You’re quick to take out two extra outfits and pack them as well as change out of your pajamas.

Ok. What would you need? You don’t know where you’d be going so this has to a catch all kind of deal.

You pack away your swiss army knife first for good measure. A solar powered charger for your phone and an extra pair of socks follow suit even after you’ve picked out the extra clothes.

You take out the water bag and run to fill it all the way to max capacity as you think of any other necessities.

You’d need food. You have a small jar of peanut butter and granola bars that can fit in the lunch box. You can bring your extra water bottle and put in the side pockets of the backpack, and maybe bring some of those powered flavor packets your brother loves so much. You think he has lemonade and some green tea ones.

Those would be great. He won’t mind, hopefully.

You let the bag overfill momentarily before running back to shove it in your bag. with the lid screwed tight.

Next you run to the kitchen, grabbing the first things that you thought of already and begin to look around for more.

You grab an unopened pack of beef jerky, a bag of veggie sticks and a half eaten bag of dried mangos.

During your search you grab the water bottle and fill that too.

You return to your room with your bounty and begin to carefully put everything in the box. With some more deliberation, you run back to the kitchen and make yourself a quick sandwich, eat it, make another one and pack that as well.

You look out side the window and the portal is still there.

The sun is beginning to rise now so you’re trying to go as fast as you can, unless you want to neighbors to think something is going on.

Even if it is.

You’re about to leave but in a stroke of brilliance, you run to pack sunscreen and bug spray as well. You see a small first aid pack that was bought recently for when you would take your family vacation but you reason that it might one of the most important things you’d have if you got hurt.

Into the bag it goes.

You grab your hoodie before you leave the door, wrap it around your waist and pocket your phone, your headphones and your wallet.

You feel immediately under packed when you step outside and see the portal up close.

It’s weirdly triangle shaped, you think and step closer.

You reach your hand out and try to touch it. It feels as if you put your hand through a humidifier but it’s not wet. It’s misty and cold but not necessarily unpleasant.

An idea hits you right before you take your first step through.

You pull up one of the earlier photo’s you took and send it to your friend’s group chat. It showed up in my backyard. I decided to make a bad late night decision and I’m going through. If you never hear from me again, I want you all to fight over my electronics. Winner takes all. Godspeed.

And you step through.

You had first assumed that it would merely take you tot he other side but very quickly realize that you have to walk through it.

The first part still had a little light but with time, it got darker. So dark that you couldn’t even see your hand in front of your face.

You kept walking.

As fast as the light disappeared, it came back and you stepped into the light of an open field, right in front of one, two, three, four, nine males that had appeared to be traveling towards you or rather, towards the portal.

The portal disappears in the process.

“Oh so we didn’t have to go through it! We had to gain another member!” One of them yells. “Would have been nice to know before we packed everything up!”

“Ho boy, where am I?” You ask and tighten your grip on your backpack. Why didn’t I bring a weapon?

They all had long tunics and swords on their backs. Old fashioned leather boots and hand bracers were the norm in this group and you realized very quickly that your jeans and t-shirt had wildly missed the memo.

“Dang, I didn’t think I’d walk into a LARP group. Sorry about that.” You sheepishly smile. “I had no idea where the portal was going to take me. But if you would be so kind-”

“Wait, what’s LARP?” One of them speaks up. He was a dirty blond and somewhere in the middle of the group height wise. He wore a white cape like thing with blue designs on the back but you didn’t recognize the symbol.

“Live Action Role Play?” You tilt your head. “It’s why you’re all dressed like that? Right?”

“This is just our clothes.” What appears to be the youngest bounces up to you. “What are you wearing?”

“First I could grab in my closet.” You admit and look down on it. It’s one of your comfiest shirts and best looking pants. You’re a little proud of yourself for finding those in the dark.

“Weird.”

“We’re heroes. We’re all named Link.” Cape guy speaks up again. “Is it safe to assume that you’re in the same boat?”

“Heroes?” Your eyebrows furrow together. “I’m not a hero and my name’s not Link.”

You’re quick to tell them your name and you watch as the confusion covers their faces. “My brother’s name is Link though if that helps anything.”

“Oh we needed him!” The youngest groans and it instantly irks you.

“What would you need with a five year old?” You deadpan and cross your arms. 

The information stuns the group.

“The portal showed up in the middle of the night and I’m the one that went through it. I’m pretty sure I was the only awake to even see it. Are you telling me that it was for my little brother?” You’d be lying if you said that you weren’t a little pissed. “My baby brother was supposed to go through it? He was asleep! He’s five. What kind of logic is that?!”

“Well...” The biggest and oldest of them runs a hand over his face. You think he has some cool tattoos and sick scar going across his eye but he looks about as angry as you feel, so you don’t say anything. “It appears the gods truly do not care for the hero’s maturity, only his existence.”

“Ok...What’s with all this hero talk?” You bite back. “What did... Where am I?”

“Hyrule.” The second with cool face tattoos speaks up. He’s got a large fur pelt around his shoulders and you have to tighten your grip against your backpack again to keep from reaching out to touch it.

Even so you feel yourself deadpan even more. “Hyrule? Like the ancient empire? The one that collapsed more than two thousand years ago? That Hyrule?”

You’re inclined to not believe them and write all of them off as crazy... but you also walked through a portal. And your grandma did say that magic existed in the strangest forms.

They all share looks of concern and some begin to murmur quietly amongst themselves but you’re too far gone to even notice.

“Did I time travel?” The idea hits you like a bus and you feel your eyes widen as you stare beyond the group. You quickly take our your phone and unlock it.

No signal.

“Is that a type of Sheikah slate?” Someone asks you.

“I don’t know what that is.” You reply automatically. “Wait, hold on, what year is it?”

“Why don’t you tell us what year you’re from and we can start from there?” The darkest brunette of the group speaks up.

“202x PC” You say robotically, not really processing the world around you anymore.

“That’s...” The blond with a long blue scarf speaks up with a slight hiss. “...Beyond any of our timelines. You see, we all come from different worlds and eras of Hyrule’s history.”

“I don’t think you’re the farthest down anymore, Wild.”

“This would then make them my successor, right?”

“It would make their brother your successor.” Someone amends. “I think they just jumped in his place.”

“Leave my brother alone.” You snap back into the present, pocketing your [hone again. “Ok, you know what, screw it. I don’t know what you’d want my brother for but I’m here now. I’d gladly take his place if it means he gets to stay home!”

“Hey.” A boy with pink hair stalks up to you looking a little more serious than you’d like.

“Nice hair dude, way to defy the gender norms.” You smirk a little before genuinely grinning, hoping to quell the tension. “What product do you use? It looks like Artic Fox but not every place sells their brand.”

“...I have no idea what you’re talking about but what happened to Ganon in your world? How have you been handling it?” He snaps and places his hands on his hips.

“Ganon? Like my old principle? That’s a name I haven’t heard in forever.” You’re confused again. “Last I heard he joined the police force only to be reassigned out of state. I don’t know what’s happening with him. Kinda hope he gets fired though. He’s not a bad guy but he’s not someone you’d want in that kind of position of power, you know.”

“Police force?”

You blinked and look them all over. They look very medieval. “Oh... You don’t have that...”

You begin to think about your history lessons and what they might be familiar with if they’re telling the truth about being from Hyrule.

“Ya’ll got knights?”

Many, almost all of them nod, a few with face of despair already on them before you finish speaking.

“It’s kind of like that. Mixed with a towns guard position... kinda. They enforce laws... at least they’re supposed to but the whole system is flawed and racist and really needs to be dismantled for the abuse of power that they have-”

“Abuse? Of power?” You have their attention again.

“It’s stupid and it won’t really make any sense if I try to explain because I doubt you have anything similar but it’s basically a group of people given the right to treat the public in anyway they like for their own benefit because they have no one telling them that they can’t.” You groan and slowly begin to feel your lack of sleep catch up to you. 

You slowly reach to behind you and sit down on the dirt, looking at all of them. “Mr. Dragmire wasn’t like...Demise or anything but he was a huge jerk. No one liked him. He liked me though. I remember that. I was the envy of the whole school because I somehow got on his good side while everyone else wants to strangle him. I think he was transferred for some misdemeanor or something like that... like he might have been throwing hands with someone he wasn’t supposed to. I never heard all the details. I didn’t really care for it when it happened either. I’m pretty sure he lost that fight though. The dude looked like a blast of wind could have knocked him over let alone someone’s knuckle sandwich.”

“I would love to hear more about this.” The youngest sits next to you with a large grin on his face. His eyes are bright and his body language reminds you of your cousin Zelda. You instantly think they’d get along like a house on fire. “What are your monsters like?”

“Monsters?” You tilt your head. “Be a little more specific bud, it depends on where you’re from.”

“You have that many?!”

“It depends on if you believe they’re real or not.”

“Speaking of monsters, can you fight?” The shortest walks up to you. You like that his tunic is stitched up with multiple colors and designs. It gives it personality, you think. “Do you have a weapon you’re more comfortable with?”

The question throws you off your rhythm and you don’t fight your wince. “What would happen if I say that I do not, in fact, have any sort of weapon on me?”

“I wouldn’t believe you.” Pink guy speaks up again. “That pack is huge, there has to be something in there.”

“It’s food, water and extra clothes my guy.” You lean back against said backpack since it won’t let you lay down with it still on. “Not a lot of space for anything else. I’m pretty good at hand to hand combat though. Karate’s a good way to fight out stress.” 

“Your bag’s not magic?”

“Why the hell would it be magic? ...Are you trying to tell me magic actually exists?” You raise an eyebrow as your eyes begin to close against your will. “I know my grandma said it does but I thought she meant like fairies and shadow demons.. and bigfoot. Can’t forget him, he’s the real MVP... You know...Children’s bedtime stories and stuff like that, it’s not real. But like magic magic? Magic items and the like? Find me Tinkerbell and I’ll show you Neverland, that’s what I say.”

“Are you serious?”

“Second star to the right, straight on till morning.” You respond.

There’s a moment of silence as the group in front of you processes your words. It’s hard to tell their reaction since you’re not looking at them but you no longer have the energy to do anything else.

“Are you falling asleep right now?” It’s the one they called Wild.

“I...” You try to open your eyes. They don’t budge. “I haven’t slept in nearly 20 hours... I think. I might have past 24 hours a while ago actually. Portal showed up at like four in the morning... I had to get up at six and I didn’t sleep at all before then.”

More silence.

“Great another one.” Someone scoffs.

You snort.

“Why did we pack up camp again?”

“No one kill me.” You say right before you lose consciousness. “Please and thank you.”

“They’re doomed.”

“Have some faith Vet. They stepped in for their little brother. That has to mean something?”

“They’re in for a rude awakening, and that’s all I have to say about it.”

[callivich]

This took me a while because I am terrible at coming up with prompts, but I wish you would write a fic where, Lip and Mickey acknowledge that they are friends and are important to each other. 🖤👬 I loved your post-anniversary fic and I just need more mickey & lip content!

Aww, thank you so much, I’m so glad you enjoyed the post-anniversary fic. So, here’s a little sequel to that, set the morning after:

(This is canon-divergent as I’m changing it so either Frank doesn’t die or they aren’t informed until after this.)

————

Lip (8:42am): need me to come and get one of you to pick up the ambulance?

Mickey frowns at the message on his phone that had woken him up. It’s too early for this. Ian is, of course, already awake and….changing into his running clothes? Ugh. “Your brother texted.” Mickey mumbles, watching Ian pull on a t-shirt.

“You’re awake.” Ian smiles at him and throws himself on top of Mickey, kissing him softly. “Happy first day of our second year of marriage.”

“Mmm, yeah. Same to you. You seriously going on a run?” He hooks his fingers into the waistband of Ian’s shorts and begins to pull them down.

“Yeah, only because I thought you’d want to sleep for longer. Was gonna come back, wake you up nice and slow and then-”

“Well I’m awake now, no thanks to Lip.”

Ian fumbles for his own phone, smiling as Mickey’s hands go lower, he reads the message that Lip had sent to both of them. “I’ll go.”

“Nah, man, go run. I’ll pick up the ambulance. Haven’t got any pick-ups till 11, so,” he smacks Ian’s ass, “we can start this second year of marriage off with a bang. Literally.” He wiggles his eyebrows and bites his lip.

Ian smirks at Mickey’s cheesy line and kisses him, “Sounds good,” before rolling off him, and pulling his shorts back up. “I’ll see you soon.”

“Don’t shower when you get back. I like it when you’re all sweaty.”

Ian laughs as he leaves. Mickey grins as he thinks of the fun they’ll be having later.

————

Grabbing his phone, he fires off a quick text to Lip - (8:50): meet you out front in half an hour?

Lip (8:50): k

Mickey showers quickly, pulling on a pair of jeans and one of Ian’s hoodies, and drinking the cup of coffee Ian had left him on the counter in the kitchen - next to a note that says ‘🖤 love you :) 🖤’ Fucking dork, Mickey thinks, but he smiles and shoves the note in his pocket.

Lip is already waiting for Mickey when he makes it outside. In the past, he would dread spending any amount of time alone with Lip. But as he slides into the passenger seat, he finds that he doesn’t feel as annoyed as he usually does and Lip’s stupid smirking face doesn’t make him want to throw a punch. Maybe it’s the promise of sex with his husband that has put him in a good mood? Or maybe he doesn’t hate Lip as much as he thinks? Nah, that can’t be right.

“Morning. Surprised it’s you up this early and not Ian. Thought you’d be worn out after last night?” Lip begins the drive towards the Southside, his fingers tapping on the wheel.

“You really wanna know if I’m too tired after getting railed by your little brother?”

“Mickey.” Lip groans, “Fuck no. I was asking if you were hungover. You were wasted.”

“Oh. Nah. M’fine. Ian’s gone for a run. He was gonna let me sleep in but you woke me up with that text.”

“Hazard of having a baby, you forget everyone else isn’t awake at the crack of dawn everyday.”

Mickey shrugs, and they fall into a comfortable silence, and he notices that he’s still not feeling that familiar sense of annoyance that he usually does with Lip. He’s definitely going soft. Ian’s fault probably. He supposes that Lip has been alright recently - helping with the wedding anniversary as though it was no big deal, acting like it was normal that Mickey had asked him for help. There were no sarcastic comments or dirty looks like Mickey was intruding in the Gallagher family. No, he just asked what he could do and helped round up the other siblings to help too. He treated Mickey like he was part of the family. Even Mickey can reluctantly admit that. Even if it is through gritted teeth.

“Thanks for…y’know, driving us home last night and helping me organise the party.” Mickey is staring out the window, his voice low. He doesn’t know why he’s saying this, but he knows Ian would like that he did. And maybe there’s a tiny part of him that likes that he can say this and it doesn’t feel awful. “Especially after that…uh…fight.”

————

Mickey’s words take Lip by surprise and he’s speechless for a moment. He supposes this is as close to an apology as Mickey would ever give him. And to be fair, Lip knows he needs to say sorry too. But he realises he can’t quite say it either. “Whatever. It doesn’t matter. And it won’t happen again.”

Mickey snorts, “Don’t know how you can be sure of that.”

“Well, Ian said - and I quote - ‘hit my husband again, I’ll fucking kill you’. So. Yeah, ain’t gonna happen again. At least from my end. And he’s right. Shouldn’t be getting into it like that with family.”

Mickey is silent for a moment, sneaking a quick glance at Lip. “He said that?”

“Yup.”

“Ok. Then, yeah, I won’t hit you again.” He says it easily, with a firm nod. “Probably. If you don’t do anything to piss me off.”

Lip rolls his eyes, “Yeah, because it’s me who’s the annoying fucker.”

“Glad you can admit that.”

And he can’t believe it, but he genuinely laughs at that. Lip can count on one hand the times he actually found Mickey funny. Most of the time he thinks he’s a dick, but lately….well, there’s been moments when he’s not been that bad and, dare he say it, he’s actually not minded being around Mickey. Sure, these have also been countered by moments when he absolutely wants to kill him but there are less and less of those. He must be adjusting to the fact that they’re family now - Mickey’s not some scary, dirty kid from the neighbourhood anymore, he’s not just Mandy’s brother, he’s Ian’s husband. He’s Lip’s brother-in-law. And that means something. So, yeah, he’s gonna treat him like a brother, like family. (As much as he can that is, because Lip isn’t a saint and sometimes Mickey really is very fucking annoying.) But he’s gonna try. That’s the important thing. And it seems like Mickey is going to try too.

“You’re a dick.”

“Yeah, well, got a reputation to uphold. Can’t let you think I’ve gone fucking soft or some shit.”

“Wouldn’t ever think in a million years that the guy who planned a romantic surprise anniversary party for his husband with accordion music and dancers was soft.”

“Fuck off.” But there’s no heat in his words, he’s just got a pleased look on his face. Probably thinking back to the night before.

————

They get stuck in traffic - due to roadworks where there seems to be less work and more standing around going on. Mickey checks his phone and scrolls through the pictures he took last night, that get steadily and steadily blurrier as the night goes on. It really was a great night. He feels his face flush in happiness just thinking about it. He can’t wait to get home.

Lip is tapping his fingers on the steering wheel again, Mickey notices he looks tired. He thinks back to Lip’s admission that he’d slipped up and had beer, and wonders if he’s had another slip. He could ask him straight out, Ian probably would, but that feels like a step too far. So he decides to hint at it.

“Everything alright with you and Tami?”

“Oh, yeah, you know….just a lot going on.”

“Right.” He shifts in his seat, glances towards his brother-in-law, and sighs. “Yeah, lot of difficult shit going on. Stressful shit.”

Mickey thinks he’s going to have to say it but apparently it’s obvious what he’s thinking. Lip stops tapping the steering wheel. “You fishing to see if I want a drink?”

“Do you?”

“I….sometimes. A bit. I’m going to meetings so.” He shrugs, avoiding Mickey’s eyes.

“Tami know?”

“Sort of.”

“What the fuck does that mean?”

“There’s just been so much going on. We’ve kinda talked but not properly.”

The traffic starts to move and soon they are almost at the Alibi. “Talking…communicating. All that shit, it fucking sucks but it’s important.” Mickey feels awkward talking to Lip like this, but strangely it doesn’t feel too uncomfortable. “Don’t put it off, it’ll be worse the longer you wait.”

“I know.” Lip pulls up in front of the ambulance. “Thanks.”

“Whatever.” He peers at Lip cautiously. “You’re not gonna tell me you love me again are you?”

“Was hoping you might not remember that considering how drunk you were last night.”

“You’re soft as hell. I’d stick around to make fun of you but I gotta hot date with my husband.” He moves to get out the car, “Thanks for the ride, man.” He gives Lip the finger and a cheeky smile as he walks over to the ambulance, shouting “see ya!” over his shoulder.

—————

For the ask meme: I wish you would write a fic where….

[domesticblisss]

Nice to Meet You

Jay White x Female Reader Requested Prompt: “Hello! Thank you for opening requests. How about one with Jay White where he’s in New Japan and reader is in WWE and they end up following each other on ig or something and after awhile of messages and such they finally meet and get together? You can change things up if you want I just love the idea of 2 people from separate companies getting together lol ❤️ ” Rating: PG-13 Word Count: 1306 Warnings: Nothing, fluff as fuck with a tiny little bit of angst and some between the lines pinning and a little cursing. Summary: Mutual friends aren't enough for you to meet, but the internet is. A/N: Sorry it took me so long to post it, work has been crazy, then writer's block hit and when the inspirations finally got back to me, I had the shittiest week ever so I couldn't bring myself to write it. I hope it's at least a little bit good, and that my dear requester and you all like it. 💕

He always heard about her and she always heard about him. Only good things.

Shelley always gushed about how their styles were similar, Sabin went off countless times on how they should wrestle as a duo, and against each other, and Candice kept mentioning how they would look cute together.

But the friends in common weren't enough to make them meet each other and their hectic schedule never coincided. Soon, Jay shipped off to Japan full time and she finally got her NXT contract signed.

Jay was the one to take the first step. It was on a late saturday night, one of his few days off, when he finally decided to watch her debut match against Asuka after seeing it trending across social media and different news outlets.

She lost the match, but she gave the NXT Women’s Champion a run for her money. Hard kicks after hard kicks, asuka locks being countered several times, and the most incredibly performed top rope DDT he had ever seen. It was the hardest hitting women’s match he had seen in a while and he was amused with her talent, so amused he had to let the world know.

“@thisisfuryWWE nxt debut match was the best one I’ve seen in a long time. Can’t wait to see more of you 😉”

The message made her smile, the recognition from someone she always thought so highly of warming her heart.

“@JayWhiteNZ thank you! this means a lot coming from the #switchblade 🔪❤️”

With that came the mutual following on social media, then the likes, the casual comments turned into dm’s, turned into phone number exchanges, and soon, they didn’t know a life without each other.

Every day a “good morning” text would be sent by whoever woke up first and “sleep well” texts closed off the night. The time zone was messy, but they always found a way to talk to each other, losing count of how many nights were poorly slept and the amount of coffee they drank on the morning after.

Little “this made me think of you” messages were sent whenever a dog picture or a meme came their way, friends' dinner/lunch dates through FaceTime became a thing and every Instagram post got commented with an inside joke. Friends and fans started to notice the change in their relationship and soon their mentions were bombarded with speculating questions.

“Are you guys together?”

“When are the two of you getting married?”

“@thisisfuryWWE and @JayWhiteNZ get a fucking room already”

“I would if she was near me 🙄”

She was the one who took the second step. After a lot of talk with Candice, she finally realised her true feelings towards the kiwi. It wasn’t easy accepting them at first, she took longer to respond to his messages, the “good morning” texts were no more, and her answers were always short, until the fateful day where she completely stopped answering him.

→ I don’t know if I did something wrong, and I am so sorry if I did, but please talk to me.

She knew that ghosting him was wrong and that she needed to tell him the truth, even if her anxiety got the best of her.

The clock on her phone announced that it was 12:45pm, meaning it was almost 2 in the morning for him and that he probably had just gotten back from the monday tapings, tired and wanting to sleep. “Fuck it, he texted me. It’s now or never.”

Ring.

Ring.

Ring.

He picked up on the third ring, his long, dyed black hair wet, sticking to his forehead, the droplets of water running down his chest.

“Hey! Sorry it took me a while to pick it up, I was just taking a shower. How are you?” He panted like he had just ran a marathon to pick up the phone. “I missed you.”

She had never seen him so vulnerable, the small tone of his voice shot a tinge of pain to her heart. “Can we talk? I need to talk to you.”

“Sure, just let me put some pants on.” Jay laughed.

He sat the phone down on the nightstand and she kept staring at the cream ceiling of his hotel room, thinking about everything and nothing at the same time.

“Is everything okay, I was worried about you.” Noises of shuffling fabric were noticeable in the background, paired with a string of curses after what she was pretty sure was him bumping his pinky on some furniture.

“Everything is fine. Is your toe still alive?”

“Yeah, yeah…”

She looked at him, really looked at him. The dark hair dryer, messy and no longer sticking to his forehead, probably the work of him aggressively running the towel over it. His fair skin pink after a hot shower, blue eyes shy, almost anxiety ridden with anticipation of what could happen next. She let out a modest smile, running the words she had thought about telling him countless times in her head.

“What is it, honey?”

“Jay, I- I need to tell you something. I don’t know how to say it but just let me finish first or I’ll die.”

He only nodded.

“I like you. Really, really like you. That’s why I’ve been off these past few days, I’ve been trying to understand my feelings and I ended up scaring myself because I’ve never felt this way for anyone.” she stopped for a few seconds, hands running over face and hair, taking a moment to breath. “Jay, I– fuck, I appreciate our friendship so, so much and I don’t want to ruin it, but I get it if this makes you uncomfortable and if you want to cut ties.”

Jay kept quiet, staring at her through the small screen, smile getting bigger and until it turned into full, hearty laughter.

“Jay, this is not funny. I’m not–“

“This is why you vanished? God, can’t you see I fucking love you too, you idiot?!”

Silence engulfed the pair again as they looked at each other, not believing what had finally happened. They exchanged smiles and lingering stares before continuing the conversation.

“I’m crazy about you, honey.”

“And how are we going to do this, Jay?”

“I am constantly going back home, you can come over when you have some free time. We will figure it out, baby.”

Three weeks of messages and video calls, three weeks of “I love yous” and “can’t wait to see you”, three of the longest weeks of their lives until they finally meet each other.

Jay opens instagram, her story bubble being the first one to show up. He clicks on it and is met with a picture of her in a red envelope dress and white converse, the same one he was wearing, and a caption that said “today is going to be a great day! ❤️🔪”.

🔥 reaction and a “see you in forty, love” reply sent, her phone vibrated in her purse just a few meters away from him. Little did he know she was waiting for him in the landing room, holding a small poster with “Mr. White” written and little switchblades drawn all over it.

She grew anxious as everyone but Jay left the plane, checking the time and if she was on the right gate constantly.

Five minutes passed, five minutes that felt like hours, and Jay finally came out, with sunglasses covering his eyes and his denim jacket in hand. He stopped dead in his tracks when he saw her, a smile growing on his face as she ran to him. He engulfed her in a tight hug, kissing her lips in small pecks that grew into one big slow kiss.

They touched foreheads after, smiling and laughing, not believing they were finally in each other’s arms.

“Hey, stranger.”

[starman-john-tracy]

mmmmSKSKSKSKSK I sent this to the wrong blog but,,,for the prompt list thingy you reblogged, misc 13 with 2 characters you want

(I HOPE TO JESUS IT'S YOU WHO REBLOGGED IT THIS TIME)

“I’m worried about you.” [From this Ask meme]

The best response John can manage, at that precise moment, is a vague, dismissive flick of his fingers as he swipes his older brother’s hologram off of his screens, ending the call.

He’s busy, damn it, Scott.

Alan and Kayo have taken Thunderbird Three out to an asteroid between Mars and Jupiter to help a returning deep-space shuttle with engine failure and Alan’s got twelve minutes of air left in his tank, blood-red holograms ticking the numbers down at the corner of John’s vision. Thunderbird One’s been deployed to the Alps in the sub-zero temperatures of a snowstorm following reports from the family of a missing skier, and John could really have done with all the little comments about their Mom that Scott had decided it was a good time to slip in amongst receiving his instructions, probably in an attempt to keep it together himself. To crown it all, Gordon’s in the middle of a risky deep dive with Thunderbird Four in one of the darkest parts of the Atlantic Ocean, trying to find a missing ocean surveyor, with Two coasting overhead despite the fact there’s not much Virgil can do but clutter John’s airways with his worries. Penny’s apparently in the middle of some kind of bank heist in England, and so can’t take FAB1 to help. John, in an almost Scott-like fit of insanity, is almost itching for The Hood to turn up, just because he wouldn’t mind the opportunity to hit something very hard with the mooring claw…

It’s been like this for a week solid. John’s not slept in thirty-two hours and colours are desperately trying their best to become audible. His mouth tastes stale with jumbled numerical readings and directions and what-his-brothers-need-to-do-nexts. 

The astronaut takes a deep, ragged breath and rips his hands from the blue glow of his holographic array. He rubs the textured blue fabric of his fingertips hard against gritty eyes, trying to force away the tired moisture that’s gathering determinedly there from trying not to yawn.

This should all be routine by now. He’s got a schedule. A delicate balance of exhaustion and focus. John knows his body’s limits and how to push himself past them - swaddling himself in a cocoon woven of holograms and the loud, urgent voices of people who need his help until he’s lightheaded from the brightness and downing enough caffeine to make his hands shake is the only thing keeping him going.

It’s not a good system, but it works.

Well, sort of works.

John scrubs at his eyes harder, pushing against his closed lids until phosphenes bloom fractal galaxies across the darkness from the pressure. He’s so tired but there’s no way he's gonna be able to sleep this one off. Not with everything going on all around him right now. 

Not until these people are sa…

“John.” Fantastic. Scott’s back. Calling on his wrist Comm this time, and big brother doesn’t exactly sound pleased about being hung up on. John thinks better of ignoring him twice, though he rolls his eyes about it. “You’ve been running Comms for three days straight now, you need to take a break.”

“I’m fine, Scott.” John’s mouth shapes the words even though he feels anything but. He has to be fine. “I’m just doing my job. Go get on with yours. And fly a little lower, the wind speed’s up.” The holograms had started swimming alarmingly over two hours ago, most of their words blurring beyond legibility, but John knows what the warning orange blob and its proximity to the logo of Thunderbird One means regardless. Focusing is getting harder and harder and that’s probably dangerous because what if he slips up, what if he gives one of his brothers the wrong instructions and something bad happens, what if...

John really wants a coffee. Another coffee. That’s probably a bad sign in itself because John, ninety-nine per cent of the time, doesn’t drink coffee. Certainly not like his brother’s do. Thunderbird Five’s got a massive range of teas vacuum packed in little silver packets, mostly courtesy of the Lady Penelope, because John far prefers it, but there is a sturdy metal tin of strong, Indian coffee in the galley, waiting ominously for him like a red break glass in case of emergency box.

John’s been choking down up to three mugs of the stuff, black and thick as tar, spiked with crushed caffeine pills, every other hour, in an attempt to keep himself with it enough to do his damn job.

The system works.

He grinds the heel of his palm against his forehead, trying futilely to prevent his pounding headache from getting any worse. He thinks there’s a bottle of painkillers in the first aid kit, Brains’ good ones, and mixed with another mug of caffeine John reckons that should get him through the rest of today even though he’s hungry and exhausted, and all his muscles have a dangerous, creeping ache that warns of atrophy, of too much time spent in Zero G. John just knows his whole body is going to kill the minute he relaxes, and that, if the constant chatter of the globe weren’t enough, makes taking even a little break just not an option. He ignores it all like a pro, slipping out of the segment of Five’s ring with the globe in, and drifting toward the galley, his fingers uncoordinated and clumsy on the handrails.

Coffee. Black. Two capsules of painkiller and another of caffeine, crushed into a powder with his fingers and dumped in.

He snatches up the plastic cup of coffee and heads back toward his globe, lifting the cup to his lips.

“John,” Scott says in his ear. “You can’t seriously be going to drink that…?”

John does, in fact, drink that. He knocks back the boiling beverage so quickly he doesn’t even need to swallow and chases the scald down with another cold cup of coffee that’s been left on his countertop from who-knows-when in the past three days. It’s gritty in the bottom from the drugs. John swallows hard at the acrid taste, coughs, and shakes out his shoulders.

“Alright,” John manages, suppressing the urge to throw it back up. “I’m good.”

Scott just blinks at him like he’s clearly a moron. Which, John thinks, is a bit rude when he’s the one with two PHDs.

“How long has that mug been there?” Scott asks, gaping slightly. It’s not at all like John to leave liquids out in the open, and especially not in space. “John, it had a layer of mould floating on it.” Not like him at all.

“Yeah,” John offers him, with a weak, crooked smile that doesn’t make sense on his face. “Penicillin. Adjust your tail flaps thirty degrees, you’re coasting too low. You need to compensate for the way the wind’s being channelled between the rocks.”

“John,” Scott’s voice comes back dangerously low, “John, when did you last have a proper break?” John’s head throbs and he’s saved from trying to work out any kind of reply to that because Gordon takes the opportunity to check-in. It doesn’t matter that John’s vision is blurring, as long as he can hear his little brother just fine. 

Crackling static buzzes in the spaceman’s ears long after Gordon clicks off again.

The newest shot of caffeine is slowly starting to soothe his frayed nerves, though everything’s a bit… hazy, if he’s honest.

“John!” Oh, Scott’s still here, huh. “Ok, little brother,” The elder of them puffs his chest out and folds his arms, but John’s not paying enough attention to his hologram to notice. “If you string yourself out much longer, I’m going to put you on medical leave until you die, alright? Nothing can stop me.”

“I don’t need med leave!” John exhales all of the air in his paper-bag lungs at once. “I’m fine and I’m doing a damn good job monitoring everything! I never take sick days…”

“You never take vacation days, either.” Scott cuts pointedly across him.

“Irrelevant.” John dismisses him again, flicking the point away like it’s a hologram he’s done with, “I’m just doing my job. If you want to come down on me for working hard, then you’re the one with the issue here.”

“You’re going to kill yourself,” Scott growls. “Your exhaustion and carelessness puts everyone who works under you at risk and I don’t know what the answer to your workload without Dad around is, but it sure. isn’t. this.” A sweeping hand encompasses his brother head to toe - taking in the coffee stains on John’s blue fingertips and the darkness smudged under his eyes. “We’ve got to, I don’t know, there must be something that can take some of the pressure off. Alan was talking about wanting to try a rotation.”

“Alan’ll be bored to death within five minutes alone up here,” John points out, “he’s still too young.”

“Gordon then, or Virgil, hell I’ll do it. I’m sure we can scrape together something.”

“Scott.” John’s voice comes out much softer this time, certainly softer than intended. “We’ll work something out but… just… not right now, ok?” It sounds almost pleading. A little broken. Perhaps Scott shouldn’t have brought up their Father, or perhaps there’s already too much for John to focus on without throwing himself into the mix. “We can pick this up later if you want, when we’re finished,” He goes on to offer, hollowly, “but right now you need to check your heat scanner and find that missing skier before those kids who called lose a parent.”

There’s a harsh intake of breath from Scott at that. He knows as well as any of them why they, why John, does all this. If they can keep together just one family, compared to their own loss, anything seems worth it.

Doesn’t mean Scott’s got to like it though.

He clicks off and John closes his eyes for one, very long moment - the residual Comm chatter swirling in his ears. It’s tempting to just press his forehead against the cold glass beneath his feet and just not exist for a few hours... But Alan needs to get back aboard his Thunderbird with the crew members, and Gordon’s discussing going EVA with Virgil in the background and Scott’s thermal scanner has just picked up an orange blip amongst all the blue.

There’s always a later. When everyone’s safe. John can rest later.

[massivedrickhead]

Loving your series of one shots bud!! I, myself, am a massive fan of fluff and happiness (tooth rotting), how about a prompt where Beca is in LA with Khaled (post PP3) and she is finding it really tough, physically and mentally, especially knowing Chloe isn't there, she hasn't spoken to her in a while, and she believes her to be happy with Chicago elsewhere... and when she returns home... She finds Chloe there. Waiting. (Or the equivalent, where Chloe is engaged, Beca hasn't spoken to her in a while, and she comes home to see her there) xxxxx

Hi, thank you so much! 

I might have gotten away from the prompt a little, but I hope you like it anyway.

I’m kind of tired and emotionally tonight so I don’t know if this is any good, and it’s kinda long so I hope that’s okay haha

Read on AO3

------

“Beca, are you listening?”

Chloe Beale is single.

“Mhm,” Beca said, pulling her eyes away from Facebook on her phone and looking back at Theo. “Sorry.”

“Everything alright?” He asked, knowing it wasn’t like Beca to zone out in a meeting like this. 

“Yep,” Beca said, turning her phone face down. He raised his eyebrows. “It’s Chloe.”

He closed his eyes with a sigh. “Is it an emergency?”

“No,” Beca said, putting her hands in her lap to resit the urge to pick her phone up again. “I am super focused and professional.”

“Can we talk about your album for, like, ten more minutes?” Theo said, trying to keep up his face stern.

“Absolutely,” Beca said, her eyes dropping again, briefly, to her phone.

The meeting felt like it lasted a lifetime, but eventually Beca hurried out and back to her own office, puling Facebook up on her phone.

Chloe Beale is single.

Chloe’s profile picture had changed from the sickeningly sweet picture of her and Chicago showing off her engagement ring, to just a simple selfie.

Beca clicked into her contacts list and her thumb hovered above Chloe’s name.

She should call her, right? 

She scrolled down further, and hit call on Aubrey’s name.

“Aubrey Posen,” Aubrey said, using the same tone of voice she would use to greet a stranger, and not one of her closest friends.

“Aubrey what’s going on with Chloe?”

“I’m doing great Beca, thanks for asking,” Aubrey replied.

“Aubrey.”

“I don’t know,” Aubrey said, her tone softer. “She’s been unhappy with him for a while.”

“She has?”

“Yes,” Aubrey said. “When did you last speak to her?”

“It’s… It’s been a while,” Beca said, sounding guilty. “Work has been a bit much.”

“I know,” Aubrey replied. “You should call her.”

“Yeah,” Beca said. “Thanks.”

“Speak to you later, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Beca said. “I’ll call you.”

She ended the call with Aubrey but once again hesitated before calling Chloe. Apart from the occasional surface level text or exchange of snapchats and memes, she really hadn’t spoke to Chloe for a while. Not properly. Not the way they used to. 

She was scared that if she called her now, Chloe would be mad at her. 

She drummed her fingers against her desk, her stomach twisting slightly, as she tried to decide what to do. She never handled confrontation very well, it’s why she’d spent so much of her life just walking away from situations.

Beca picked up her phone again, and typed out a text.

Beca: Hey Chlo’. I’ve just seen Facebook, are you okay? xx

She hit send and closed her phone before she could overthink it, and tried to focus on her work again. 

She had a bunch of album art she needed to look through and pick her favourites. (Yes, her job was pretty awesome.)

She also had twenty unread emails that had popped up in the ten minutes she had spent on the phone to Aubrey/deciding what to do about Chloe. (Yes, her job was also pretty demanding.)

As her phone buzzed on her desk with Chloe’s reply, Theo poked his head through her office door.

“What’s up?” She asked, resisting the urge to pick up her cell to read the message.

“Have you got plans tonight? Because you need to cancel them if you do,” he said, looking stressed.

“Why?” Beca asked with a sigh.

“The head of the label is coming in for a meeting tomorrow morning and he wants to hear your new album and it is nowhere near ready for that,” he said.

“Isn’t he in Europe?” Beca said with a groan.

“He is literally flying in for this meeting. There is a lot riding on this album, Beca,” he said. “He took a big risk when he signed you as a solo artist after the Khaled collab.”

“I know that,” Beca said, running a hand through her hair. “I know. But it isn’t getting released for another two months, why does he need to hear it now?”

“I don’t know how his mind works, I just know we need to impress him tomorrow,” Theo said.

“Okay,” Beca said. 

“No distractions tonight, okay? Take an hour now and we can get started at,” he glanced down at his watch, “5:30.” He closed the office door behind him, and Beca immediately picked up her phone, pushing away the sudden wave of nerves.

Chloe: I’ve been better xx

Beca: Are you free right now? xx

Chloe: Yeah, I just finished work. xx

Beca called Chloe, this time without hesitation, and the redhead answered on the second ring.

“Hey,” Chloe said, her voice sounding heavy.

“Hi,” Beca replied, sinking back into her chair at the sound of Chloe’s voice. She hadn’t realised how much she’d missed hearing it. “What happened?”

“Can we not talk about it?” Chloe asked. Beca could hear the sound of New York traffic over the phone and she felt suddenly homesick.

Not for New York specifically, but for that tiny apartment she and Chloe had shared in Brooklyn. For that level of closeness and intimacy. 

She liked L.A. fine, and her new home was, on paper, a thousand percent better than the Brooklyn apartment, but it still didn’t feel like home. She would trade her state-of-the-art kitchen, king-sized bed, hot-tub - all of it - for one more night in that apartment. One more night sleeping beside Chloe. One more night where Chloe’s arms would snake around her waist and pull her close, mumbling that she was cold. One more morning eating breakfast together before they parted for work. One more evening making dinner and watching trashy TV.

What made it hurt more was that she knew there was no going back to that apartment. Chloe had moved in with Chicago, Beca had moved out to L.A., and Fat Amy was somewhere in the Bahamas. Someone else was living in their apartment now. Sleeping in their cramped bed, making food in their kitchen.

“How’s work?” Chloe asked, breaking Beca out of her thoughts.

“Busy,” Beca said. “It’s… It’s a lot right now.”

“Are you taking care of yourself?” Chloe asked. And Beca thought just how like Chloe that was. While she was going through a heartbreak, she’d rather make sure Beca was okay.

“I thought that was your job,” Beca said, smiling at the soft laugh Chloe gave. She could hear the sounds of keys jingling and a door opening.

“That’s kinda hard to do when I’m all the way in New York,” Chloe said. “God it’s so cold outside. I need a vacation.”

Beca glanced at the sun streaming through her office window. “Maybe you should come to L.A.,” she said, without really thinking. As soon as the sentence left her mouth, she realised this was something she wanted more than anything right now. 

“That would be nice,” Chloe said with a laugh.

“I’m serious,” Beca said, feeling a mixture of nerves and excitement. 

“Come on, Becs. I can’t do that,” Chloe said. “I have work.”

“Take some time off?”

“The flights are expensive-”

“-I’ll pay for the flights,” Beca said, cutting her off. “I think… Chlo’ I think I need this. I need some time off. And I think you need it too?”

“Yeah, I need it,” Chloe said. “Are they even gonna let you have time off?” 

“I can ask,” Beca said. She looked down at her watch and saw she only had ten minutes before she had to get back to work. “Look, if you want to come, I can make it happen. I’m working for the rest of the night, but give me a call tomorrow afternoon.”

“Okay,” Chloe said. “I’ll call my boss.”

“So you want to come?”

“Yeah. Yeah I want to.”

——

Beca glanced around her nervously as she stood at the arrivals gate of L.A.X. airport a week later. She was wearing a baseball cap and a pair of sunglasses but she was still afraid someone would recognise her.

Then she caught sight of ginger hair and suddenly Chloe was walking towards her and Beca felt her nervousness drain away.

Chloe grinned when she spotted her, and started walking more quickly, practically running by the time she got close enough to hug her. She dropped her case and flung her arms around Beca, squeezing her into the tightest hug she could manage.

Beca was going to make some sarcastic joke, but the feeling of Chloe’s arms around her caused her voice to die in her throat and her eyes to fill with tears. 

“I’ve really missed you,” Chloe said, squeezing tighter and planting a kiss on her cheek and releasing her.

“Missed you too,” Beca said, grabbing the handle of Chloe’s case. “How was your flight?”

“It was fine,” Chloe said, grinning. “Why are you dressed like a spy?”

“Um, because I am?” Beca said, laughing. “I just don’t wanna get spotted.”

“Right,” Chloe said. “You’re a big deal now.”

Beca laughed and shook her head. “It’s a lot,” her voice was a little quieter. 

Chloe frowned slightly, and then her eyes widened as she saw a few men with cameras hovering outside the entrance to the airport.

Beca sighed. “Just ignore them and stick close to me.”

They walked out of the airport quickly, and as soon as the men spotted her, they started yelling. 

“Beca! Beca! How’s the album going, Beca?!”

“Beca! What do you say about the rumours that you’re dating your producer?!”

“Holy shit,” Chloe muttered under her breath as they made their way to Beca’s car, the paparazzi following them, continuing their barrage of questions.

“Beca! Introduce us to your friend!”

“Beca is it true you’re dating-”

Whatever name he was planning to say was lost in the sound of Beca slamming her door shut, and starting her car. She honked the horn a few times to get them to move out the way.

“Beca, what the fuck was that?” Chloe asked, pulling on her seatbelt as Beca pulled out of the parking lot. 

“Fun, right?” Beca asked, glancing in her rearview mirror, making sure they weren’t going to follow her home. 

“Does that happen every time you go out?”

“Not always,” Beca said. “To be honest they were probably there just hanging about to see if anyone would turn up. I don’t think they knew I was there before they saw me.”

“Jesus,” Chloe said. “I forget you’re like a legit celebrity now.”

Beca pulled a face. “I’m not. Not really.”

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” Beca said, glancing over at Chloe. “Yeah, just… Just really looking forward to this time off. I had to work a lot of late nights to get Theo to agree with this.” Chloe frowned. “You know that guy was full of shit, right? There’s nothing going on between me and Theo. I haven’t been dating him. I haven’t been dating anyone.”

“Why not?” Chloe asked.

“Why not, what?”

“Why haven’t you been dating anyone?”

Beca shrugged. “I haven’t met anyone I liked.” They were quiet for a little while longer as they continued to sit in L.A. traffic. “So, can we only talk about my love life or are you going to tell me about you and Chicago?”

“There’s nothing really to tell,” Chloe said, turning to look out of the window now they had gotten off the highway. “I just… It wasn’t working. We were fighting a bunch. I wanted him to be different and he wanted me to be different.”

“I’m sorry, Chlo’,” Beca said. 

“It’s okay,” Chloe said. “It’s better in the long run. At least we weren’t married with kids before we figured it out.”

They sat in a comfortable silence as Beca drove them the rest of the way to her house, the radio playing quietly. 

When Beca pulled up to to her house, Chloe let out a low whistle.

“Right, you live in a fucking mansion now,” she said.

“It’s hardly a mansion,” Beca said, feeling embarrassed. She took Chloe’s bag from the trunk and they made their way into the house. “You want the tour?”

“Please.” 

Beca showed her around, dropping her bag into the guest room. The tour ended on the deck, and Beca grabbed a bottle of wine and two glasses from the kitchen on the way. They sat in comfortable loungers and looked out as the sun set over L.A.. 

“I’m really glad you’re here,” Beca said, pouring them some wine.

“Me too,” Chloe replied, cheers-ing her glass against Beca’s. “Thank you for inviting me.”

“Anytime, Chlo’.”

As they sat in silence watching the sunset, Beca felt a warmth spreading through her chest. For the first time since moving to L.A., she felt like she was home. And then she realised something.

Something she’d known all along, really.

She glanced across at Chloe, who was smiling with her eyes closed, letting the sun soak into her.

Chloe.

Chloe was her home.

She placed her hand on top of Chloe’s and squeezed, softly.

Chloe opened her eyes and looked over at Beca, still smiling. She adjusted her hand so her fingers were threaded with Beca’s. 

Beca looked away, blinking against the sun and feeling tears stinging her eyes.

If Chloe noticed, she didn’t mention it. She just carried on smiling, and turned back to face the sunset, their hands still linked. 

“It’s beautiful out here,” she said. 

“Yeah,” Beca said. “I feel like I never actually get to relax out here. I spend so much time just sleeping at my office these days.”

“I knew you weren’t taking care of yourself,” Chloe said.

“There’s just been a lot of pressure at work. This is my first solo album, and if it fails… If it doesn’t do well everyone will know that my last one was only a success because of Khaled,” Beca said. “I can’t fail at this.”

“You won’t fail,” Chloe said, softly. “You’re so talented, Beca. You’ve got this, I know you do.”

Beca smiled. “I wish I didn’t have to do it without you.”

“You don’t,” Chloe said. “I’m only on the other end of the phone. You can call me anytime.”

“It’s not the same,” Beca said. “Sorry, I just miss how things used to be.”

“I know. I miss it too,” Chloe said. 

“If I’d known things wouldn’t stay that way forever, I might have done things differently,” Beca said.

“What do you mean?”

Beca shrugged, feeling like she should stop talking before she said something she’d regret. She didn’t want to cause an awkward situation that they both had to live with for the two weeks of their vacation.

“Don’t go quiet on me now,” Chloe said.

“I just wish I’d been more honest. Braver,” Beca said, avoiding looking at Chloe.

“It’s not too late,” Chloe said.

But Beca shook her head. “Sorry. I’m… I’m rambling. I’ve probably drank too much.”

“I guess it’s getting late,” Chloe said, letting Beca’s hand drop. “We’ve got a long day of relaxing ahead of us, right?”

“Yeah,” Beca said. She stood and stretched and helped Chloe to her feet. “If you get hungry or anything during the night just help yourself.”

“Thanks,” Chloe said, kissing Beca on the cheek. “We’ll finish this conversation tomorrow, okay?”

Beca laughed, and felt her cheeks burn. “I dunno what you’re talking about.”

“Night Becs,” Chloe said.

“Night.”

Chloe woke a few hours later, her head hurting from too much wine and sun and not enough water.

She made her way to the kitchen and drank what felt like her body weight in water. As she was about to head back, she heard noises coming from Beca’s office. 

The door was open and a dim light was creeping onto the landing.

Chloe peaked inside to see Beca sitting cross-legged on her chair, her hair tied up messily, the light from the computer screen the only light in the room.

She was talking to someone on the phone, her voice a little hoarse.

“No, I get that Theo,” she said, her hand resting on the back of her neck. “But when I spoke to you yesterday, the track was fine.” She watched as Beca tucked the phone in between her ear and shoulder and the began typing into her computer. “Uh huh. So like, more bass? Less bass?” She stopped typing. “I don’t know what you mean by the same bass but different.”

Chloe had heard enough and stepped into the room. 

She placed a hand on Beca’s shoulder and tried not to laugh when she jumped. She held out her other hand for Beca’s phone. 

Beca sighed and handed it over.

“Hi Theo,” Chloe said, smiling. “It’s Chloe. You remember me from the USSO tour, right? It’s 2 am, and Beca’s on vacation. I know. I’ll pass your apologies on. Goodnight Theo.”

She clicked end on the call and passed the phone back. 

“Theo said sorry.”

Beca laughed and put the phone down. “Thank you.”

“Does this happen often?”

“Oh yeah,” Beca said. “Theo and I are both kinda nocturnal so sometimes he’ll call me with ideas.”

“No wonder you look so tired,” Chloe said.

“Gee thanks.”

“Come on, it’s bed time.” Chloe took her hand and pulled her up. “This room is off limits while you’re on vacation, okay?”

“Yes ma’am,” Beca said, smiling. “How are you finding the guest room?”

“It’s nice,” Chloe said, as they hovered outside Beca’s room. “Why?”

“No reason,” Beca said.

“Becs, you can just say it you know?”

Beca laughed, and looked down. “I can’t. I’m not good at this.”

“Okay,” Chloe said. She pushed Beca’s bedroom door open and gave her hand a tug. “Come on.”

“Chloe,” Beca said softly, closing her eyes when Chloe cupped her cheek with her hand. “Wait.”

“Hey,” Chloe replied, her voice just as gentle. “Look at me. Tell me what you need.”

Beca swallowed hard, tears burning her eyes. “I’ve… I’ve been waiting. That’s what I wanted to say before. Why I haven’t dated anyone since Jesse. I’ve been waiting for you. I… I waited to tell you and I waited too long.”

“It isn’t too late,” Chloe said, pulling Beca into a hug. “You can tell me now, it isn’t too late.” She felt Beca take a deep breath, and when she spoke her voice was muffled by Chloe’s shirt.

“I’m in love with you. I’ve always been in love with you. And I know you and Chicago just broke up. I don’t need to hear it back.”

Chloe ended their hug and cupped Beca’s face in her hands again, her thumbs brushing away the tears. 

“I wanted Chicago to be different than he was. That’s why we didn’t work out. I wanted him to know what I needed without me having to ask. I wanted him to know when I needed a tea instead of a coffee. I wanted him to bring me an aspirin when I was two hours into a study session because he knew I’d have a headache by then. I wanted him to know when I wanted to talk, and when I just needed to sit and listen to music. I wanted him to know me. I wanted him to know me the way you know me. I wanted him to be you, Becs. And… And when I realised that… When I realised it was you that I wanted… You that I was in love with… That’s when we broke up.”

“You love me?” 

“Yeah,” Chloe said, swallowing the lump in her throat. “Yeah I love you.”

Beca let out a teary laugh. 

“Can I kiss you?”

Beca nodded, and Chloe’s mouth was on hers, and Beca knew she was home.

[twisted-nox-sidus]

I was in the mood for fluff.

Headcanon AU prompt: Child!Strix suddenly warps to TW! As the dorm leaders argue who would be the first to take her in for the time being, she selects the dorm leader on a whim and grows attached. Saddled as babysitters by Crowley, how do the dorms take care of her? 

Note: I had made a post of Child!Strix before. Keep in mind that she’s mute at this age and relies on actions than words to communicate.

Heartslabyul

Baby Strix fled to the safety of Riddle’s long cape and curled up inside despite his protests. She was in a cocoon by then.

The card boys almost dread the worst when Riddle came back cradling a sleepy little girl wrapped snugly in his cape like a blanket. The sight was so tender, they were nearly convinced it was someone pranking them.

Riddle was confident to show Strix a wonderful time at Heartslabyul. On the same day he had Trey bake his delicious cakes and treat her to his favorite strawberry tarts soon after.

The boys take turns carrying her. They almost die of diabetes whenever Strix gives nuzzles on their cheeks and hugs around their necks. So precious! She’s an angel! Deuce actually cried (manly tears mind you) once. Ace was never gonna let it up.

The Heartslabyul gang are just one big family. Trey and Cater are the parents, the first-year trio are their chaotic kids, and Riddle is the exasperated eldest son who tries to keep the whole family in line.

Strix plays dress-up with Cater and he does her hairstyles. It’s clear he totally dotes on her the most as he has an older sister. Having a little sister like Strix is delightful!

“Can we adopt her? Please?” “Cater, the headmaster already signed the custody papers.” “Really?!”

Ace and Deuce alternate carrying Strix as she paints roses red. They also make up quicker when Strix is around so they don’t make her sad.

The hedgehogs and flamingos are quite attached to Strix. They were practically surrounding her. Cater had abused the camera roll by then. He can’t bring himself to delete a single pic! But his memory storage is near reduced to tears...

Bonus: Che’nya randomly popped in during their tea party sweeping Strix off her chair and adoring this cutie patootie. Strix’s shock subsides when she noticed the pierced pointy cat ears and pets them while Che’nya carried her on his shoulders. He even only made his head visible so he’d give the others a spook when he came back while Strix is too focused on his kitty ears to realize it. It was so surreal, let me tell you.

Savanaclaw

Strix approached Leona and looked up with sparkling blue eyes. Fluffy kitty ears are nice! Not scary!

Leona groaned. He himself doesn’t want to take in a kid -especially a girl- back to Savanaclaw. She makes easy prey the moment she steps in. He has a weak spot for children, too.

To Leona’s bewilderment, the girl climbs on him like a tree until she sat on his shoulders and touched his cat ears. She nuzzled her face in his mess of hair and smiled, pleased.

And so, Leona returned to the dorm with a baby owl perched on his head. When she was asleep he dumped the job onto Ruggie. He should get paid for this, damn it. He didn’t sign up for babysitting!

Strix’s attention would wander to Leona’s flicking tail. She would try to catch it and run around Leona’s legs to try to get a feel, or pounce on the bed if he’s sleeping, however it would slip out of her tiny reach. She seems to have fun, though. She behaves like a cub sometimes, it’s really adorable.

Strix would do her best to help Ruggie clean Leona’s room. If only the dorm leader would follow her example...

Baby Strix growling stomach is like a mouse squeaking. Ruggie didn’t think a child’s stomach could make such cute noise.

Jack is saddled with a kid while Ruggie and Leona take care of their own duties. Where is the instruction manual for this?

Strix would fall asleep on Jack’s tail that substitutes for a pillow. Or his fluffy head, one way or the other. It’s easy to watch over a kid when they’re asleep almost 24/7. When she is awake, she would climb on him like he’s a jungle gym.

One time when he gave her an awkward pat on the head, she firmly held his hand in place and she. Freaking. Nuzzled into his palm. Nuzzled her nose to it with a cute smile and blush.

Jack only had Strix for five minutes, but if anyone harms her he will kill everyone in the area and then himself. It’s that meme :D

Every time they go out, the boys would firmly place their hands over her ears to block any foul language Savanaclaw has to offer. They also make it clear to other fellow students to keep their paws off her. Her innocence must be protected.

Octavinelle

Similar to Riddle, Strix went to hide under Azul’s draped coat. Azul then eagerly agreed to take her in. There’s profit to having an adorable guppie at Mostro Lounge, is what everyone called him out on. Azul doesn’t deny it.

Floyd definitely carries Strix by the shoulders. At first it was all fun and games, with how tall being on him was... Until he sporadically pretended to almost drop Strix that she clung to Jade’s secure arms while trembling like a leaf. For once, Jade had a justified reason to smack his brother on the arm without rousing sibling hostility. Floyd got depressed by the flick of a switch.

Strix’s eyes always wanders to the view of the underwater scenery. Her face was glued to the window in Mostro Lounge for how beautiful and breathtaking the sights were. Once, she lied on the floor in the glass corridor admiring the fishies that swim by. She never got tired of it for hours.

Floyd took the opportunity to join her on the floor in hopes of making up to her. Child Strix is a gentle soul to have forgiven him, and the two spent time just relaxing together until Jade and Azul came to pick them up (of course it was weird for two people to be on the floor). Strix was asleep by then.

Strix got curious about the grand piano. Azul played a few tunes before inviting her to join him. She pressed a few random keys that were out of tune, of course, but Strix was excited regardless. The glint of intent interest to explore the practice made him chuckle.

He teaches her the basics. He also encouraged her that her hands are perfect for the piano, which is no lie, and that she would become a wonderful pianist if she continued practicing, much to her delight.

Baby Strix would doze to sleep as Azul played relaxing music, all curled up while her head was atop his lap. What a pure soul this one is.

Scarabia

“Kalim put Strix down!!”

Jamil has another -literal- child to babysit. At least Strix is well-behaved unlike Kalim. Why can’t he take a page from her book?

Kalim has plenty of siblings. His brotherly love rubbed off Strix and made her open up to him more quickly than others.

Kalim bought every kind of ribbon that looks good on Strix. Too bad practically everything is adorable on her.

Jamil really doesn’t mind feeding another mouth. He’s whipped up feasts that feed hundreds of guests for Kalim’s banquets and parties, especially at the last minute. What’s two people to sweat about?* Magic carpet rides are exhilarating for Strix. They were like the baby roller coasters she rode on, but this must be the grownup’s version.

Pomefiore

Strix admires Vil’s dorm outfit between her fingers. The interior red design has fancy apple designs.* Vil boasts how even a toddler recognizes his beauty to compare to other students who fail to see it through their thick skulls.

Like Cater, Vil dresses her in outfits deemed complimentary to Strix and her stunning blue eyes. Strix didn’t mind since Vil was having fun.

Strix is amazed by Epel’s apple craftsmanship. It’d be a shame to eat them, she feels. After being reassured he’ll make more again, she never leaves a crafted apple to rot.

Strix finds Rook’s mannerisms and French confusing, but that’s okay. She’s a child that doesn’t know better. Though she has a feeling she’d still find him elusive even as a grownup.

Ignihyde

Like a kitten, Strix is all-too curious about Idia’s long blue flaming hair and paws at the tips. He had to bunch his hair into a ponytail during her stay.

Idia has his little brother Ortho. Surely he can handle Strix. “Those are two separate things!” He’d exclaim. Too bad that doesn’t prevent him from being a babysitter right off the bat.

Ortho is excited. Now he’s in the shoes of a big brother. He hopes Strix will be an incentive for Idia to come out of his room.

Strix liked how warm and comfy Idia’s jacket (his “school uniform”) looks. She slipped inside while Idia was taking a shut-eye from the monitor and zipped up the zipper before snuggling closer to his warm body heat. It’s like hugging a heater.

Idia woke up to a fright. What if he crushed her under his weight?! That’d be dangerous!

He looks down to see the content smile on her lips. With a sheepish huff he plopped his head back on the pillow. Another five minutes wouldn’t hurt.

Diasomnia

To every dorm leader’s surprise and fear, including Diasomnia’s himself, baby Strix fled to Malleus’ side. His intimidating aura should have warded her away, yet when Strix looks up from the folds of his cape with pure and honest blue eyes, there was no fear. Even as a toddler she knows no fear of one of the most powerful magicians in the world.

Strix dislikes thunder, and thus is scared of Sebek and his lightning bolt for hair. She would flee behind Silver’s leg and stay away from Sebek as much as possible.

Sebek had to befriend her through an owl marshmallow pillow (after listening to Lilia’s advice). Watching her squeeze the pillow made many shed tears from the sweetness. You could practically see flowers and soft light surround the two.

Sometimes they would walk in the lounge to see Strix dozing in the sleeping Silver’s protective arms wrapped around her securely. Like two peas in a pod.

Lilia is amused whenever he looks behind to see Strix lifting his oversized Diasomnia uniform as much as possible from the floor. She follows him like a duckling because of that.

Once, Malleus got depressed for not being invited to an event. Strix tugged on his pant leg and he picks her up. Then she pats his head before giving him a hug in consolation. How sweet, though he realized how the roles have switched; he’s the child, and Strix is much mature for her age.

The day after that Strix would pull him over to where everyone sat before a pretend tea party set. If Malleus had the shame to cry he would have done so. Ugly sobbing, amirite?

Malleus may not admit it out loud, but he’s happy. At least someone knows to remember to invite him. The fact it’s a human child says a lot.

[erchommai-a]

timeline + 1

timeline meme / the timeline in which they live an ideal life, had no opportunities taken from them, were subjected to nothing terrible, where they grew up to fulfill their full potential.

Somewhere out there is a world where Valentine Morgenstern’s Father didn’t die. Somewhere he didn’t have to watch as his own Father, taken over by the lycanthropy, take his own life with the very same blade he had promised to give him on his Ascension. No, he comes home with some scratches. 

The wolf dies

And there is no seed of deep hatred and resentment left to grow in the man’s chest. There is no rallying for a movement  that goes far and beyond normal sentiments of the youth. There is no outright call for war. Nothing to push the Circle into anything more than a group of young shadowhunters with some wild belief that they could change their world. 

And somehow, Jonathan isn’t born by necessity. 

He isn’t born to be the weapon his Father needed to breed a new line of shadowhunters. 

No, it happened because they were young and in love and full of life. That the thought of not being with each other seemed all too much. And the fruits of that affection and adoration was a young boy with pale hair like his Father and green eyes like his mother. 

Oskar Morgenstern named their first boy for them. 

Jonathan like their kind’s name sake. Honorable. Strong. Born to be a warrior. Like all Morgensterns were. 

He grows up next to the Herondales and the Lightwoods. He grows up following Luke around when Valentine was away with his own Father and the Clave and Jocelyn was busy painting in the free space behind the Fairchild Manor. 

He’d be carried around on his shoulders and treated like a prince until the other kids would come around and then he was king. Marching around like his Father. Big and tall and brave for a three year old. 

But things changed not long after that. 

Luke stopped coming around. His Father was always busy, hiding away and his Mom was scared. Scared for him. Scared for her husband. And scared of what his Father might think of the new child on the way. 

His Father starts taking him along into meetings. Meetings where he can see his Father and his grandfather standing side by side, shouting things and names and being angry. He remembers his Mom having told him once how they both hated his grandfather. It’s why he hasn’t been to their home since he was a baby. But he’s everywhere his Dad takes him, always with his hand on his shoulder. 

A few nights of this and he finds himself being stirred awake in the morning. 

Jocelyn with a bundle of his clothes in her arms and a few other things. She thrusts a stele and a sword in his hand. He holds onto the sword more than his own mother. His Father had taught him how to use it. The scars were still fresh from their last training. There were a lot more after his Grandfather had invited himself in on their training sessions. 

He asked where they were going. It was too early. His Father would be too tired again from one of their meetings to come with them this early. 

But his mother doesn’t answer. 

Not until they’re outside and they’re on the horse and she finally smiles with some relief. A kiss to his hair and he understood why. Luke stood not too far beyond the clearing. Different. Tired. Hairy. Still Luke. 

And they both say they were going away for a while. 

He asks about his Dad again and for some reason he knew then and there, he might not see the man again. Or his friends. Or Idris. 

He asked his mom why and all he told him then was they had to. 

And for some reason or another, he trusted his mother. 

----

Years later and they’re in New York. He’s waking up to Clary singing in the bathroom and the smell of coffee beans and pancakes from the kitchen. A look around confirms it was home. 

Home as it will ever be. 

He feels for the blade under his pillow. The one he’s never let go of. And Luke teaches him during weekends still how to use it while his Mom taught Clary about the runes once she was old enough to ask. 

Jon never preferred the sword. Maybe because it still reminded him of his Dad. Maybe because he could control it better. Maybe because he can’t draw for shit. Either way, it helped to offer him some peace of mind. 

They’ve only met a few bad seeds when they were younger. Mostly downworlders who were cornered into a bad position. Some Shadowhunters looking still for something that his Mother wouldn’t tell him about. Sometimes they just get a gift. 

It’s wrapped up with the seal. 

This year it was a ring. Addressed to him for his Birthday. 

He thinks its from his Grandmother. Jocelyn’s convinced it’s from Valentine. And she thinks it might be time to move again. 

Jon wanted to go to college in New York. 

Somewhere close. Somewhere he could be on his own but still a cab ride away should they need him. That was what normal kids did anyway. 

As he hears a squeal coming out from the bathroom, he figured they really weren’t normal anyway. 

--------

The first week without his Mom was the hardest. He’s never been out of her sight or her out of his for very long since they’d been on his own. And he’d never had to hold Clary’s hand so tightly as they ran to the first bus stop out of town. 

That was always the plan. 

Run until they couldn’t run any more. 

Never leave Clary behind. 

Never leave the box of baby things. 

That was the larger rule of the two. 

He knew why but he still didn’t understand it. He had opened it with Clary when they were younger. There was nothing but a few tarot cards and some of their old baby things. He just knew he had to trust her. 

If his Mom said it was important, it just had to be. 

It wasn’t long, however until they got caught by some kids. Or what looked to be kids. They had to be. But then a flicker of their blades and he realizes they’re shadowhunters. 

Like them. 

Except they looked better and somehow had better gear. 

They didn’t last long in the fight. Firstly, they were outnumbered. And secondly, they had more gear in their quiver than the two of them combined. One look at him confirmed who he was. The ring they found in his pocket only added the garote around his neck. 

Clary was the one that convinced them they were innocent. 

That they needed to run. 

----

They’re taken in.

They learn the Shadowhunter World isn’t as dark as his mom might have left it. It isn’t as scary as they’ve been taught to believe. And still different from whatever of his memory managed to tell him. 

It’s his Father and his government. His puppets and his strings that was keeping their world in the dark. That was making sure the prejudice and the fear was what stayed rather than the real mantra that had build their species to begin with. Good versus Evil. Angels verus demons. Now it had been Angels versus everyone else. 

Or what counted as Angels in his mind. 

It was sickening. 

They stayed hidden, for as long as they could, but things changed when Luke was brought in. Marched and paraded around. Clary practically jumped at the first opportunity to go through a portal to get to him. 

That didn’t end well. 

The Portal closed before any of the others could follow. They were practically drowning in the middle of a lake. And it only took a flash of memory for him to remember what his Father had told him about this once when he was young. 

“Don’t swallow the water! “ He yelped, gulped and drank, ruefully. Dragging her, only by the collar of her jacket onto the shore where the hallucinations almost immediately begun. He could hardly differentiate where his moans and groans stopped and where was Clary. 

How they managed to stay on a bed, he couldn’t be sure. 

He thinks he saw green before his eyes closed completely and darkness took over. 

By the time he woke up, it had been three days since and there was an empty bed beside him. His panic took over as he fumbled for the sword that was no longer on his person. And he walked, weaponless out of the room to find himself somewhat recognizing the place. 

He was only three. But his Father had took him here too. During one of their nightly meetings. 

He sees a portrait on the wall before he sees Clary sitting on a couch, all kempt and unlike herself. 

A few more steps and it showed a face next to what he realized now was Valentine at a young age. 

“ Grandmother. “ 

Clary confirmed it with a nod, tugging on his sleeve when he was within reach and prompted him to sit beside her. She was nervous and uncertain. As they both were. And from the looks of  one of the chairs, they had already scuffled before he had woken  up. 

“ Where are our things? “

“ She took them away for safe keeping. “ Clary interrupted the old woman before she could answer. Her eyes now fixed on the ring on his hand, similar to hers. 

“ If you two were raised like you were supposed to, I wouldn’t have had the chance. “ She retorted, finally allowed to speak, as her fingers played with her own Morgenstern ring. “ I knew you would use that. It was the best way I could find you two without your Mother. Your family’s been waiting for the two of you. “

Now it had been his turn to feel clammy and shocked. He hadn’t thought of bumping into either of the Morgenstern men so soon. 

He tried to look around subtly for anything he could use. Luke might not have been as fast or as strong as Valentine but he still taught him enough. He trusted that gut instinct. But whatever plans of escape he was concocting fell out of place when he saw him come in through the door. He hears the gasp come from Clar right beside him. 

Jocelyn had always noted how much he looked like him as he grew older and perhaps it had only been made apparent now. 

“ Dad, “ He hears her whisper. Partly in shock. It’s instinct then that he stood up, walking slowly just to stand in between him and Clary. His Mom’s voice still loud in his ear. 

Run. 

But he was too frozen in the moment to move. Too slow to think. Still staring at his Father. At the ache he somehow felt in his chest again, the very same ache he’d felt when he understood they weren’t ever going to see him again. It hardly registers that Clary had ran ahead of him, arm flung around their Father’s waist and head in his chest. He blinks and it still doesn’t register. An image that his mind couldn’t seem to process until Valentine was gently pushing her back. The same Fatherly instinct he remember. The same tenderness that quickly hardened when the Morgenstern Patriarch walked into the room. 

He got motion back into his limbs again. And he reached for Clary’s elbow while they weren’t looking to catch a view of the grin on her face and the blade she very quietly thrusts into his palm. Holding back the smile of relief he slips it behind his back onto his other hand. His right arm having the better throw and pointed with his chin to the near by window. 

Jace had done it once before. They could too. 

Before his grandfather could even speak, he aimed and thew the dagger at her shoulder. It him her right where the ligament would be cut off and pushed Clary out the window. 

Her first and him second. 

Making sure to leave the morgenstern ring on the window sill.

------

They run until they couldn’t run anymore. And they walk until Clary’s legs feel sore. He picks her up, carries her on his back, until he thinks she’s fallen asleep. He asks and she tugs on his hair as an answer. 

“ Gremlin, “ He uttered weakly under his breath. 

Alicante was still far off in the distance when a familiar place came into view. 

“ Hey, TIny, Wake up. It’s our old house. “ He stopped at that, realizing telling his little sister she was conceived here was too far. Although correct. She wriggles against his grip until he puts her down and walked ahead of him. Getting a good look of the place. 

He wasn’t sure if it was abandoned but it definitely didn’t look as lived in as he remembered. The drapes were  closed and the vines were everywhere. Leaves crumpled and died on the ground where they fell. And there was an air around it that made it feel like they were walking hollowed ground. 

They should probably get back to the city. Maybe they’ll find the others already there. Luke’s life was still in danger. 

But the more they walked, the harder the pull was to stay. 

And from the looks of it, he had no choice once Clary had opened the door and stepped in. 

He hissed a warning. Their Dad might have alreayd sent some guards ahead or worse. But it was quiet. Empty. There was a faint fire in the fire place as they passed it by. Close to dying. There were empty bottles of wine scattered all around. 

He had wanted to go up. Show her his bedroom. Showed her where hers had meant to go. But she had already disappeared into the cellar by the time he was just about to reach for her. 

A curse and he chased after her.

Nearly bumping into her as she comes to a stop. A faint glowing light chained to the wall. It’s wings thin and frail. Two chairs set on either side of it. 

It moved it’s head and it spoke ; an almost garbled static noise. But Clary hears it. From the way she looks at the thing. He only hears faint words, shapes of what it should be without the sound. Eventually Clary fumbles forward, trying to undo the chains, eventually asking for his help. 

He doesn’t question it. Looks around for the keys until he finds it . And as they key turns and the lock falls out of place, with his wings spread, he glows with a blinding light that makes both fo them turn their head away and cover it. The air around the house different. 

“ I know what he wants, “ Clary announced. “ We need to go back. “ 

Jon makes some sweeping arguments but she was already on her way out and back to where they had come from. 

With the retreating figure of Alicante fading and fading behind them, he knew he had lost the battle. 

-------

They come knocking at the door, much to Seraphina’s surprise. Suspicious as she makes sure yet again they were not armed. Although that took a lot longer now he imagined with her arm in a sling. They arrived just in time for dinner  and was brought to their chairs with his Father at the head, many of his guards around them and his Grandfather on his side and their grandmother on Clary’s. 

Food was served with wine and he realized only then how hungry he must have been. That he didn’t stop to think twice and just eat. 

All the while discussion continued around the table. His Father’s guests paid neither him or Clary any mind, not until Valentine addressed them again. And Clary, jumps in with the obvious question: “We want our Mom. “

He swallows a mouthful and agreed, taking one of the knives on the table to hide inside his sleeve should they need it again. A look between the adults passed and Valentine nodded and got up. 

“ The only way we would ever consider to release her is if she gave up what she had stolen from our people. “

“ I know where the cup is. “

Jonathan tries not to blink his surprise. He looks unfazed by the admittance, although he should have come to expect it, given the circumstances that had pushed them here to begin with. 

“ But I need her awake.  Give her to us. And we’ll come back with the cup. “

He caught his grandparents smile. Although his grandfather’s was more out of amusement than the pride he caught on Seraphina’s. 

“ Jocelyn is still considered a war criminal. She can’t leave just like that. We’ll need a guarantee. Collateral, so to speak. “

Clary fumbles then. She hadn’t thought that far ahead. 

“ You want a head for a head. “ All their eyes turned to him then, sharply and calculating. Seeing perhaps for the first time the similarity between Father and son. He looked up at the house sigil that clung to a shield just at the end of the room. “ A Morgenstern for a morgenstern. “ 

He catches Clary’s look but doesn’t say anything. 

“ Release Lucian Garroway along with our Mother and I’ll stay. Just until you get the cup. “

Clary’s knuckles turn white gripping the edge of the table. His Father and grand father looked pleased. The rest of the guest depart then to leave the family to their peace. 

“ She can have an armored guard with her return back to the City. Your friends must be worried about you. “ His Father starts. 

“ If you break your promise, I swear by the angel, I will kill you. “ Clary swore before she got up. 

Jon smiles then as he got up too to give her a hug before she was ushered away, promising him along the way that she’ll come back. He didn’t doubt that. But he glared at the guards that tried to drag her away anyway. 

“ Now what do all of you really want with me? “

---------

They want someone to continue the line. An heir. His eyes narrowed at his reflection at that, finding the idea laughable. 

First of all, he was just seventeen. 

Plus, he may or may like Izzy, and he was pretty sure Izzy wouldn’t be into some crazy dictator’s son / potential dictator. 

But he smiled and nodded, politely. 

He remembers enough of his training to know how to act around his Dad. He was three then but he hadn’t changed. The very next morning he was put back to work. His skills sharpened. Brought to what it should have been had his mother not stolen him away - blah de blah. 

It had been easier to tune him out once he’d handed him the sword. His blade. The one he had given to him as a child. 

That was what was familiar after all. 

He could manage against his own man. 

That impressed him. 

And a part of him still appreciated that he could be impressed. Even by him. But it was small and it disappeared as quickly as it would sprout. 

----

It only takes a few days of this before he gets bored. 

A few days  of incessant training for his body to start aching and for him to start wondering where the hell Clary was. 

It felt longer than it should have been and his Father had stopped giving him updates by the second day. 

It’s on the seventh night that he wakes up in the middle of the night again, stirred by his Father and brought down. There’s more people then. All allies from the excited looks in their eyes. 

He should run. He knew it. But there was no exit. 

He’s been led right into the center of it; forced to his knees by Father and grandfather. The cup now being passed along from one hand to another. His Father had lied. Of course. And now they held the cup with what he could only guess was blood. Because it smelled and looked different. Not like ichor. Not even as bad. 

His eyes snap upward, trying to get a view of Valentine and Oskar’s hooded gaze and he thinks he catches a flciker of a woman wil pale skin and dark eyes and long hair at the edge of the room. She smiles with blood red lips and fangs and then disappears when there’s a noise.

A yel from someone being stabbed. He catches gold hair and then an arrow. Maybe more. He tries to get free but their grip is still firm and Valentine grabs his jaw to make him drink from it. He bites down on the edge of the cup instead and make it tip over on him, before taking the chance in their distraction to bite at his grandfather’s hand. 

A hard slap makes him swallow of the blood that had tipped over into his mouth. Oskar’s and the cup’s. He almost retched right and there. And again, he’s dragged, this time by his hair to the nearest door. And before he knows it he’s knocked out. 

----

He wakes up again, groggy and aching all over. Back in the moors behind his childhood home. His wrists tied together behind his back. His head ringing still from the head ache the blow to his head had brought. And the lady in black, still watching from the distance. 

And he sees her clearer than everything else, the more he stares at her. 

But the moment doesn’t last long as he hears his Father begin to talk. Whether he’s explaining it to him or to the air, it didn’t seem to matter. He had a plan. Or they all did. A collective group of people where he was their leader, their king. They knew how to save the world. How to keep out the demons. How to fight every demon blooded thing in the universe. 

It would all start with the cup. 

That would fix all the problems. 

And then him. 

He thinks he hears her smile, feels it right next to his ear, but he can’t be sure. They must have made him drink some of the blood. He could feel it, a sluggish weight in his veins. Burning him rotten. Making him weak. And making his fingers clammy. 

Valentine is still talking. Some nonsense about angels and demons. Something about how he was going to continue his legacy. Be some king down there while he ruled the people here. It was harder and harder to pay attention, if he was honest. All he could hear was the sweet voice of whatever that woman was, singing in his ear.

He almost didn’t register the thud that fell right beside him. He rolled his head to the other side and saw his grand father dead beside him. He nearly laughed. 

The haze fading. In it wake an almost seizing high. A hurricane that goes right to his nerve endings. Somehow, he breaks through the ropes. And there are inks of black under his eyes but there isn’t any fear in his Father’s eyes. 

Now faced with both his children. 

Clary’s concern only distracted him for a moment ; not enough to stop him from catching the blade she had stolen from their Grandfather for him. He had heard the name before. He had already given it to Valentine once before. He thought to ask why he had taken it back but a glance over his shoulder reminded him the man was dead and the reason was moot. 

Valentine tries to reason with either of them ; tries to warn them. But they were having none of it. They were tired of the running. They were tired of the lies. They were tired of him. 

The cup falls to the grass just as his blade cuts through his spine and Clary’s pierces through lung and heart. 

Whatever he was about to say, dies on his bloodied lips. 

-----

The haze of the demon blood eventually dwindled back to that heavy ache straight in his bones. An emptiness that left him passing out on their way to catch up with the others. 

He wakes up a few times on that first night in a cold sweat. The dark in his eyes seemingly never leaving. Leaving him with a hunger for the feeling, for the taste, for the voice he’d heard in the moor. 

It’s a few days until he’s almost caught with a blade to Luke’s throat when they realize what was wrong. 

It was Lilith, Seraphina had told them before slashing her own throat at the very first opportunity she had at freedom. 

Jocelyn somehow knew who that was and clutched his hand. He had only remembered her holding it that tightly when they were leaving. She finally explained to him why. 

But the answer to the threat of lilith was simpler now than it had been then. Protection spells and weapons were readily available. 

The old regime was being pushed out. A new one was starting. 

The Last of the Morgensterns were dead. 

It was just them now. 

[lonelyboy-in-space]

Luther Hargreeves-centric Fic Rec

(pt. 1

Feel free to add your own (or even oh idk... write them..)

mostly angst

Eggshells by El_Imprestavel

He can't fail. He can't disappoint. Never. That’s what being Number One means, in the Umbrella Academy.

Self-doubt, emotional/psychological abuse.

dedication bordering on inhumane by s1357

This practice in empathy is foreign, a weird taste in his mouth, but Luther finds he actually wants to comfort.

Or, Luther reaching into his heart and giving six different pieces to six different people over the course of nineteen years.

Luther bonding with his siblings in a healthy way! Still angsty.

Every Mountain You Climb Takes You Further Away by siriuslyrose

In 1989, Sir Reginald Hargreeves adopts seven babies from around the world. By 2007 only one remained.

They all left for slightly different reasons. But for all six of them it was The Monocle that forced them out the door. Ironically, he was also the reason his Number One never follow them.

This is the story of how the Umbrella Academy went from Six (Seven) members to One.

How everyone left, and only One stayed.

00.01 by verybi_verytired

Number One - Spaceboy - Luther

a short, poem-like fic centring on self-doubt and Ben’s death.

run fast, run away (run straight into the loneliness) by ambroses

three snapshots into number one's life featuring his siblings

one of my favourites. features luther being excluded in sibling outings, his pressure of being number one, and his siblings being mean.

Pretend That We’re Safe at the End by CourtneyCourtney.

It makes Diego’s stomach turn, how easily he can picture it happening. Luther met with Reginald in private after every mission. Sure, they’d all always had some kind of meeting with dear old Dad afterwards, but Luther was the one he spent the most time on. It wasn’t like anyone kept track of how long he was in Dad’s study. No one would have thought to check in on them, to stop them, and Luther would have been too proud to tell anyone back then, even Mom.

(Written for a prompt on the umbrellakink meme: "child sexual abuse, Luther/Reginald, someone finds out about it and when they confront Luther, he breaks")

what it says on the tin.

clip my wings and look at the sky by lesbianbettycooper

The moon is lonely. His only companions had been Ben and the sporadic, at best, check-ins from home.

It took him a while to get used to. He’d never had many friends besides, if you could even count them, his siblings but at home, there was always people around. Pogo, Mom, his father, people out on the street.

When he was the last one remaining, the silence would feel suffocating, he would go days without having to speak to anyone.

or; luther like.... reflects. i guess?

The Price of Obedience by madame_faust

What was going through Luther's mind as he looked at Vanya from the top of the stairs?

Major spoilers for 'Changes.'

This Isn’t Me or You by Katydid_99

This isn't Five's body.

This isn't Luther's body, either.

Maybe they can reach a common ground...

Dealing with Five’s issues of body dysmorphia, and trying to talk some sense into Luther about his non-consensual body mutation.

Boys Don't Cry (and Other Rules) by Anon_and_on_and_on_and_onnnnnnn

Children are not machines.

Your sons are not your soldiers.

The Hargreeves boys are not okay.

Only one chapter at the moment, but the first one is Luther-centric.

Some Leader by Marmarhargreeves

Luther used to be the dream boy.

Reginald defiled him, stripped him the agency he once had over his own body. He was no longer gorgeous, no, far from it. He was a monster. He turned into this hideous, heinous creature. His body, something he took so much pride in, something that quite literally defined him, was no longer what he knew. It was something he despised.

Warning: body hatred, bulimia, body dysmorphia 

(by the ever so lovely @queerhargreeves)

Skin by GlitterBitch147

*Mentions of Self Harm* A character study based on an interview with the TUA cast/crew about Luther.

we are no heroes, my dear by Sternstunde

“Ben,” he repeats, then shakes his head, “look at Luther.”

15 minutes later Ben’s blinking. “His movements…”

Klaus remembers.

“The rave was his first time taking drugs, wasn’t it?”

-

In which Klaus decides that Luther needs some family bonding, but ends up arguing with Five and revealing some stuff.

Luther remembers how the drugs at the rave made him feel better.

the other side by punkcowboy

When Luther was on the moon, he had a lot of time to himself. Whenever he felt sad, or lonely, he would dream about having a garden

leaders don’t cry by punkcowboy

leaders don’t cry, and monsters never die

or

Luther sometimes finds himself unable to breathe

Short and poetic.

Finding Yourself by KaytiKitty

Luther needs help to figure out his sexuality.

One Is The Loneliest Number by 1The_Quiet_Samurai1

Luther was fucked up. He knew it.

Unrequited Luther/Vanya, as Luther develops feelings for Vanya after they time-travel back. as a type of coping mechanism from what he did to her before

Brother Mine by orphan_account

They weren’t identical, but they looked similar enough that it was obvious that they were twins. Technically, all seven of them considered themselves to be something of a group of septuplets, seeing as they all shared the same birthday. But Luther and Five were special, they were full siblings. Related by blood, the only link they had to who their real family was.

But then Luther dyed his hair blond.

I'm tired of being alone (and you're more than enough) by TrippinOverMyFandoms

Luther Hargreeves was eighteen years old and the last remaining member of the Umbrella Academy. He's preparing for a life time dedicated to saving the world even if that means being alone. That is until the brother he hasn't seen in five years shows up in the courtyard.

This is their life together.

Follow Luther and Five as they uncover secrets about themselves and each other as well as things Reginald has hidden from them and the struggles that come with being a dysfunctional family.

tell me when my sorrow's over by WeWalkADifferentPath

The reunion with Luther is a bit of an accident.

In the end, the decision is all but entirely made for him, because Luther sees him.

Reunion between Ben and Luther after Klaus learns how to conjure him, but Ben is still a little mad at Luther.

gimme shelter by wearealltalesintheend

Klaus skids to a stop in front of Luther’s room, nearly colliding with the wall. He didn’t really have to run all the way from the end of the hall like this, but he felt it carried the appropriate amount of urgency for the situation.

“Have you seen Diego?” He asks, panting, and leans against the doorway to catch his breath. Behind him, Ben arrives walking calmly.

Luther, who had been clearly only pretending to read and actually nodding off, looks up, closing his book and sitting up in bed. “He left with Five an hour ago, why?”

“Oh, nothing. Okay, okay, that’s fine,” Klaus drums his fingers in the wood, starts picking at the chipped paint there. “Have you seen Allison, then?

Now, Luther is frowning suspiciously. “Yes. She left with Vanya to have brunch.”

Well shit.

.

or, the one where Klaus adopts a pet, everyone is out, and Ben can't be trusted to look after a small animal on his own

based on the prompt: Klaus and Luther bonding!

It Will Rise In Perfect by Light syrupwit

Few but those who knew him might have guessed it, but Luther loved poetry.

For A Sister's Sake by GinnyBloomPotter

Number One liked to think that, at seven whole years old, he knew exactly what his role was in this world. One night, he sees something that challenges that.

Forgiveness For The First by Anonymous

In the aftermath of the apocalypse, Luther avoids any physical contact. Especially from Vanya.

My absolute fucking favourite in this entire list. Ticks all the boxes for me.

Partita No. 1 in B Minor by neneyeeee

On October 2, 1999, the seven adopted children of eccentric billionaire and entrepreneur, Reginald Hargreeves, go missing.

(Or: After Number Seven kills the last nanny, Reginald does not create Grace and the children of The Umbrella Academy are left without a mother. As the pseudo-oldest, Number One takes things into his own hands.)

((Or: Without Grace, the Hargreeves children turn to each other for comfort.))

[grcvityfclls]

Dear Dudines & Dudes.

We have a problem!

My inbox is empty. I've answered everything and put it in the queue. (Except for the outstanding replies to threads, hopefully those will come tonight and get queued too). Please, feel free to scroll through the memes and inbox tag and send in anything you fancy! The tags are linked in the tags if you are on your mobile phone.

[domesticangel]

ok ok a 68 plymouth gtx for ris is perfection but what do u think the rest of the squadra has? i really wanna say one of them has a studebaker somehow but i just dont know (ignore it was a us based company i love them anyways shhhh)

god. this is the best ask i couldve ever gotten. buckle up. ha ha. bc cars. and also bc I’m not gonna shut the fuck up

but YEAH NO SAME i also chose to foolishly disregard that italians wouldnt likely drive american cars (or necessarily drive at all…america is mad obsessed with cars compared to a lot of other countries so sdkfhsdkj) bc its all fun and games so ik a lot of this would be unrealistic but I’m american so i really only know about american cars/cars that are popular in america dskjfsdkjf so sorry for America-Centrism On Main but if any italians or ppl w knowledge of italian cars wanna chime in w their own takes, by all means!!!

oh and this post also foolishly assumes la sqaudra has money. lets pretend for just this post they all actually got paid for their jobs

SO WITH THAT OUT OF THE WAY warning this is gonna make this post rly long but I’m gonna ad pics of the cars i think they’d all drive like. in case anyone reading wants to know what they look like but doesn’t wanna look em all up so I’m gonna throw this under a cut in case it gets crazy

ok i can 1000% see sorbet and gelato sharing a like studebaker speedster that they would take out cruising for special occasions….it would spend most of its time under a tarp locked in a garage bc if you touch that car without permission you WILL die by their loving intertwined hands. some couples have babies. some couples get dogs. sorbet and gelato got a studebaker speedster and treated it with almost as much love as they do each other. one might think their driving would match the “crazy” impression everyone has of them but honestly? they prefer to take it slow and cruise so they have more time to enjoy each others company. on the job they’ll wreck a rental all to hell, but not their baby. the rest of squadra would low key fear for their lives on the rare occasion that sorbet and gelato offered them rides in their car bc the inside is spotless and they all knew if they left anything out of place or dirtier than they found it their time was up

i think they’d dig a color scheme something like this; still looks mob and sophisticated without losing the whimsicality u feel me

i really like a classic chevelle ss or ‘67 mustang gt500 for formaggio

(ignore how fuckin shiney these are bc make no mistake his would be scratched and worn all to hell)

in line w my headcanon that he’d be knowledgable about cars, i think he’d like supe them up and mod them for street racing or 1960s style drag racing. since we don’t get a lot of individual sqaudra backstory i sometimes think about him maybe losing his parents at a young age or having a bad home life as is typical of passione members and getting taken in by a local mechanic, and only as he got older realizing the shop had mafia ties which eventually paved the way for his induction etc but the knowledge and interest in cars always stuck with him. i think he’d probably drive the most recklessly out of all of squadra (rivaled only by ghiaccio ofc) bc he just loves to go fast as fuck and show off. he’s definitely a revs-the-engine-when-he-drives-by-someone-cute ass bitch

illuso would drive a ‘71 dodge demon, and honestly only because he liked the name and how it looked

it would honestly drive formaggio insane that illuso would ONLY use this car to get around as opposed to flying down the countryside or doing burnouts in a field. illuso doesn’t know much about cars and he doesn’t care to learn either; if it looks good and the engine turns he’s happy. formaggio would BEG him to race him or let him take it for a spin, but illuso would be adamant in turning him down every time. he has no desire to take risks and tear up a perfectly good car, but if he feels especially generous he’ll let formaggio ride with him while formaggio excitedly rattles off specs illuso doesn’t understand in the slightest. he won’t readily admit to it but seeing formaggio that excited is really endearing and illuso would even end up learning something here and there from their time spent together

ghiaccio is anal enough about All Things Italian that he breaks my disclaimer and actually does drive an italian car. y'all already know what the fuck is going on

hell yeah ghiaccio drives a lambo. ‘71 lamborghini miura to be exact. and boy does he make this motherfucker screech and drift. as much as he seems to abuse the car he’s extremely uptight about upkeep and will take it in as often as needed for repairs. you can also bet your ass he’d berate any of his fellow squadra members that didn’t drive italian-made cars, asking them why they’d choose to drive that trash on wheels when their country is home to the best cars in the entire fucking world and they have their pick. being in the passenger seat with him at the wheel is terrifying, don’t get me wrong, but he’s actually a very skilled driver, like to the point that he probably couldve been a stunt car driver if he wanted. but whatever you do don’t show any adverse reactions to his hard turns or brakes bc he will take it as a personal insult to his skill as a driver and you will find that the louder his voice gets the heavier his foot gets on the gas so Good Fucking Luck. (also yes ik we already see ghiaccio driving a car in canon but its headcanon time and during headcanon time ghiaccio rocks the fucking lambo)

prosciutto would drive a big beautiful blue ‘65 thunderbird convertible

he would also be very particular about the upkeep of his car, but without any sort of personal touch; he hasn’t the time nor desire to keep up with the car himself so he just makes sure he takes it to a reputable shop to do it for him. it’s not his “baby” or an heirloom; its just a car. it runs and looks good as all fuck while doing it so thats all he really cares about tbh. that said, if anyone ever scratched or keyed or dented it they wouldn’t live long to regret bc as a wise man once said, you don’t fuck with a mans automobile. i mentioned this in the my squadra meme as well, but even though he smokes like a chimney, he NEVER smokes in his car. no smoking, eating, or drinking in the thunderbird. sealed packs of cigs in the console only and if the seals been broken it has to stay in your pocket. the upholstery is pristine and he prefers to keep it that way. he’s a very mild mannered driver and even often errs on the side of slow; he doesn’t really see the point in wasting gas by speeding or messing up the tires or alignment by showboating. he knows that he AND the car already look good enough to command bystanders’ attention so he doesn’t waste his time with any extra flashiness

ima keep it real with you chief: melone would drive a car you could fuck in the back of and thats about all there is to it, so look no further than the spacious ‘61 chrysler newport

he would somehow figure out a way to get an aux cord and a sound system in this old motherfucker and would listen to his music so loud it about rattled the doors off, much to any passengers’ chagrin. he’s almost worse to ride with than formaggio or ghiaccio because he texts and messes with the music the entire time he’s driving. like its almost impressive how often he manages to NOT have his hands on the wheel. he’s a master knee-driver. all that in mind the rest of squadra groans in unison when melone offers to drive and risotto, who doesn’t have time for a squabble, gives the ok and send them on their way bc they know they’re gonna have to deal with melone insisting that driver picks the music and white knuckling the handles the whole time. but regardless, if the chrysler’s rockin and the britney’s boppin, don’t come a-knockin

since i see pesci as the youngest i think he’d be the last to get a car, but the rest of squadra would surprise him by all pitching in and getting him a ‘69 buick sport wagon

it’d definitely be a fixer-upper (prosciutto insisted it’d be good for pesci to retroactively “earn” the car by learning how to take care of it, prompting the rest of squadra to point out prosciutto never even learned how to fix a car himself) but pesci would be out of his mind appreciative of it either way. after years of only ever riding in the back seat of someone else’s car he’d be so excited about finally having a car to call his own. formaggio would take him under his wing and show him everything he needed to do to make sure she stayed running in tip-top shape and they’d grow pretty close over it; formaggio would lose his damn mind the first time he’d convince pesci to do a burnout on his own. pesci would try his best to keep the car clean but he’d probably have a bad habit of leaving empty drink bottles in the floorboard or extra jackets in the back seat, but all in all he’d do a pretty good job taking care of the car and making the generous gift from his team worth it. most non-work related outings would have pesci chauffeuring, but he wouldn’t mind, bc seeing all his friends crammed into his car and having a good time would make him really happy

and last but not least risotto and his ��68 plymouth gtx 🖤

perhaps surprisingly he wouldnt be excessively meticulous about upkeep; he definitely wouldnt do anything needlessly reckless to harm the car or neglectful of standard upkeep, but he would definitely see it as more of a personal part of him than a machine that needed to maintain perfection. he wouldn’t really sweat scratches or dents here and there; they’re bound to happen to a car that old and if he found the time he’d take it to get it buffed. like i said in the hc meme i think it would’ve belonged to his father (or any family member he was close to really) and it was passed onto him when he died so it’s kind of a sentimental thing for risotto. though not quite the same level as formaggio, he’s fairly good at making standard repairs on his own, and doesn’t mind spending a weekend or two up under the car fixing it up and making sure it runs smooth. the rest of squadra would each be surprised the first time they ever rode anywhere with him; the second the car started old classic rock or metal would blast through the speakers, with risotto mumbling a quick sorry and turning it down, but not all the way off. they would find out that their stoic leader prefers to drive with the windows down, one hand on the wheel, other out the window tapping to the beat of the music on the hood

aaaaaaaaand YEAH. i told you i wasn’t gonna shut the fuck up DSFHKJADHKSDJ LMAO SORRY I WENT TF OFF BUT YEAH THOSE ARE MY. SQUADRA CLASSIC CAR HCs

[lady-of-dare]

Halex fic rec list

After what seems like forever I’m finally done. So please enjoy this list and I hope you’ll have a lot of fun reading those fics. And please leave them a comment, I’m sure the authors would love that!

could be canon fics

Continuing Education 

Author: Taricha

Summary: “Yeah?” Alex said with a smirk, sneaking his fingertips up under the lab coat. “Does that turn you on? I could calculate the area of a circle for you, if it gets you hot.”

“Maybe later,” Hank said agreeably, and kissed him briefly before pulling back and saying with alarming enthusiasm, “you could go to college!”

If I Were an Enzyme 

Author: AlwaysCryOverSpilledMilk

"If I were an enzyme, I'd be DNA helicase so I could unzip your genes."

"I don't wear jeans. These are dress pants."

Or, in which Alex attempts to woo Hank with scientific pick-up lines.

When Hope Guards the Gate 

Author: Meddalarksen, victoriousscarf

Charles pretends to create a mutant school, Hank actually creates a mutant school, and Erik's band of revolutionaries weaves in and out of their lives.

No none ever claimed being a mutant was going to be easy, but no one said it was going to be this complicated either.

my absolute favorite, must-read! Edited version of „Not Just Pain and Anger“

Not Just Pain and Anger 

Author: Meddalarksen, victoriousscarf

After the events of First Class, Erik and Charles' lives continue to intertwine, and they attempt to stay together despite being on opposite sides. It's easier and harder by turns, as one tries to continue to build his school, and the other tries to raise an army.

previous version of “When Hope Guards the Gate”

Five Things Alex Hates About Hank (and all the things he doesn’t) 

Author: meeks00

“The blue one was mine,” Hank concludes. He sets both tubes back in the rack with the others. “Not everything needs to explode for it to be ruined, Alex,” he says.

Now That I'm Older 

Author: plinys

When Scott begins to show symptoms of something all too familiar to Alex, he brings him to the only place he knows that can help, and runs into an old 'friend' along the way.

Other AU’s

The Things That Fade 

Author: UisceOneLove

It was little things here and there in the beginning.

Lapsing on the affection Alex always had in that nickname like the previous time in the lab, or he’d forget a word when it was right on the tip of his tongue. There were a few times he would be in the middle of a conversation with Charles and he would suddenly blank on what point he was making. Once he ended up in the jet’s bay and forgot why he was there in the first place.

Or in other words, the world where Hank gets Alzheimer's and is forced to see his world crumble.

Amazing fic, read “It Ends Tonight” after this

It Ends Tonight 

Author: UisceOneLove

Alex was tired.

Alex was angry.

Alex wanted to destroy everything he could with his beams.

Alex wanted to scream and cry until it hurt and then just do it some more.

Alex just wanted his fucking Hank back.

Second part of “The Things That Fade”

5 Ways Logan Fixed Everything (Like a Boss) 

Author: Laen_Lamperouge

What would happen if Charles and Eric could persuade Logan to join them?

(or how Logan solves all problems with sarcasm and coolness)

Solace 

Author: mangollama

Alex's daemon hasn't settled. Hank wonders why that is.

bless the broken road 

Author: the_queenmaker

Her father had wanted a boy. That’s where all the trouble had started

Scientists Prefer Blondes 

Author: Meddalarksen, victoriousscarf

Hank made a vague distressed sound and shook his head. "How's a steady lover treating you?" he asked and Tony choked on air.

Alex snorted at that, crossing his arms out of habit, "And he's a blond too. I tell you, you guys have a type."

"A type?" Tony blinked and Hank laughed. "We have a type? Who has a type."

"Apparently scientists prefer blondes," Hank translated for him. "It's been Alex's pet theory for a while."

Someone to Love the Both of Us

Author: emperors_girl

In the nursery, the baby is still crying. Charles leaves Erik where he sleeps and goes to pick up the child. They'll both be gone by the time Erik wakes.

not a fan of mpreg, but I really liked this one!

College AU

The Old College Try 

Author: misterkevo

"The thing is, part of what makes Hank McCoy uncomfortable to be spending time alone with Alex Summers is that it’s possible that he has the smallest, most minute crush on him." - or, college AU in which Hank tries a new look to get Alex’s attention.

Hot for Teacher 

Author: arosynose

Alex needs to pass Pre-Calc if he doesn't want to flunk out of college. Unfortunately, his professor is a total dick.

High School AU

If You Liked The Book, You'll Hate The Movie 

Author: Paperclipbitch

Modern-Day High School AU. It’s not until Hank realises half the class are glancing towards the back of the classroom with something like nerves and something like schadenfreude that he finds out Alex Summers is back.

detriment for tooth enamel 

Author: wordquaff

This is half about a fake relationship, but mostly about an anxious boy named Hank and his overbearing friends and really good guidance counselor

It was quiet for a few minutes as they exchanged looks and Hank drew tight circles with his fingertips into the pads of his digits, before Ms. Pryde finally spoke, “I’m sorry, is this some youth culture thing I’m not keeping up with? Pressuring friends into sex with Dawson Creek actors?”

Skidding Down the Sliding Scale 

Author: keire_ke

Alex chalks up his grudging love for his dad to Stockholm Syndrome. He’s not going to stand idly by while Erik harvests Mr. Xavier’s innocent soul, however. Human AU.

It started with a bong 

Author: Humphrey

The day the principal finds a bong in his locker, seriously changes Hank’s life.

His dads are divorcing, the school’s favorite bad boy is in detention with him and people are actually gossiping about him.

Message Received 

Author: flowermasters

Alex Summers is bored in Miss Frost's class. Luckily, he happens to have Hank McCoy's phone number.

Out of Spite or Love 

Author: acherik

Hank pretends to be Alex’s boyfriend after Alex asks him to. He has no idea why but he plans to find out.

Tales of a Serial Homewrecker (With Good Intentions) 

Author: AlwaysCryOverSpilledMilk

“Let's make a deal. If… if neither of us are married or engaged or in a serious relationship or whatever by the time you turn 35, since my birthday is earlier than yours, then we have to get married."

“Sure, dude, why the hell not?"

Some other Modern AU’s (no powers)

5 Minute Flirtations 

Author: blumvale (sailorpipn)

Raven convinces Hank to try speed dating. Initially, Hank is quite wary about the whole thing. Once at the bar, the first person he meets is Alex, the bartender. While Alex lends his ear to Hank's dating woes, the two men grow closer until Hank realizes, maybe speed dating was the best idea Raven has ever had.

back to me 

Author: sweetpeater

It's Christmas Eve.

It's Christmas Eve, and Hank is alone.

we’re all here because we’re not all here 

Author: nighimpossible

AU, no powers. Charles and the gang are in treatment at the Elizabeth Braddock Rehabilitation Clinic for their various problems. Erik is the new patient, convinced he's going to die. Alex is getting a little too intimate with his therapist, and Dr. Hank McCoy remains torn between love and ethics. Lines are crossed, tears are cried, hopes are dashed and dreams are reborn. Somewhere in between, people fall in love.

The Loveliest Nightmare 

Author: nightmare_kisser

Welcome to the D-Wing. My name is Charles, but please, call me Professor X. I think you'll like it here; we're all good friends. We used to be mutants, you see, in another reality.

AU where everyone is a big family (especially Hank and Alex and sometimes even Scott)

this is only now (where do we go from here) 

Author: thebodyeclectic

From this prompt on the 1stclass_kink meme: Modern AU, where an older Alex (in his mid twenties?) somehow figures out/recieves the news that, no, his younger brother didn't die in the crash like he'd been told, and then sets out to find him. The catch is, Scott's been adopted and adores his 'dad', who is incidentally the adorkable Hank McCoy.

The Start of a Coming Race 

Author: thebodyeclectic

Wherein their family gets even bigger.

Continuation of “this is only now”

Chocolate Chip Oatmeal Raisin Cookies and Mob Bosses 

Author: orphan_account

Leaning forward, Alex whispers, “Can I tell you a seeecret?”

“Um. Sure. Why not?”

“I’m gonna marry Hank McCoy.” He watches with a detached interest as the guy’s ears go pink, followed by his cheeks.

“Oh, really? Why would you say that?”

“He made me chocolate chip oatmeal raisin cookies. And they were the Best Ever.”

for here you are, standing there, loving me 

Author: chloeburgis

Charles is a brilliant grad student, at Columbia on a full-ride. But his scholarship doesn't cover rent or the other necessities of living, so when his mother finally cuts him off, he is well and truly fucked. Enter emotionally distant father Erik Lehnsherr, in need of a live-in nanny for his seven adopted children. Who have driven off the eleven previous nannies. And who are all highly powerful mutants. Really, how hard can it be?

Or, the modern day The Sound of Music AU no one asked for

This Will Be 

Author: SpiritsFlame

Hank McCoy is in love with the perfect woman. One day, he's certain, they will fall in love and be married. It would be a grand plan if they'd ever met. When she falls into a coma, Hank tries to look after her and is thrown into the topsy-turvey world of her family. And he can't help but be drawn to her rude and infuriating foster brother Alex. Written for Reel_Xmen

Lean On Me 

Author: SpiritsFlame

Ten years ago, Charles and Erik split up, dividing their six kids between them. None of them expect them to meet at summer camp. And no one could have predicted the results. Written for the reel_xmen challenge.

Okay so that’s it for now. 

These are the fics that I remember good enough to recommend them. If you want more, please visit my ao3 account and look at my bookmarks ^^

Oh and these are only from ao3, since I didn’t find a lot of Halex on other websites.

If you want more rec list (for whatever fandom, ship, character or whatever) send me a message!

Enjoy

[greyias]

☂️

☂   Gravestone lift malfunctions temporarily trapping OC and Lana, Theron, and/or Koth – from the SWTOR Style Prompt Meme.

Takes place sometime on the journey back to Odessen during KOTET Chapter V. Contains a small reference to part of Unsent Correspondence (although that’s probably not necessary reading to follow).

“Stupid piece of junk,” Theron snarled, punching at the button again. He had already been in a sore mood before the damn lift had malfunctioned and effectively trapped them there.

“That ‘piece of junk’ can probably hear you,” came the sage reply from the person responsible for his current mood. “You might want to speak with a little more respect.”

“It’s a spaceship,” he snapped, “I doubt it’s listening.”

“SCORPIO said that the Gravestone is very intellig—”

“Hang what that conniving bucket of bolts said!”

“Why are you yelling at me?”

“Why am I—?” 

He cut himself off, mouth shutting with an audible click before he turned back to the lift controls and savagely smashed his hand on the button again to take out his spike of aggression. Maybe if he hit it hard enough it the door would suddenly pop open. Or at the very least take away the red haze that tinted his vision. He’d been attempting to go walk off his foul mood in one of the many long, lonely corridors of the Gravestone when she’d joined him in the lift, seemingly oblivious to the fact that he didn’t want company. 

“Theron,” the Jedi’s voice dropped to a low, concerned tone, “why are you so angry? Did I do something that upset you?”

He pierced her with a glare, snorting out an angry breath as he tried to reel his temper back in. A cramped, broken lift was not the place to have this conversation, but apparently their semi-sentient spaceship had other ideas. Or, more likely, was suffering some unforeseen aftereffects from their recent escape from that deathtrap of a planet where it had been built.

She reached out to touch his arm in her typical gesture of conciliation and calm, but he jerked it away, although he couldn’t really escape in the small confined space. The action drew a small sound of surprise and her brows drew together in a mixture of guilt and hurt that almost penetrated the angry haze that had descended over him. Almost. 

He was not going to let this go, no matter how big of puppy dog eyes she flashed him.

When he finally thought he had a handle on his temper, he managed to grind out, “Did you do something? You mean other than order me to leave you to die?”

Grey swallowed hard at the sharp edge in his tone, eyes still a little too wide and blue for him to completely ignore. “I—I was trying to protect you and everyone else aboard the Gravestone. Considering the risks I thought it best that—”

“That you sacrifice yourself needlessly?”

“It’s not needless if everyone else survives. You had an opening to leave—”

“How is you playing martyr again an opening?”

She flinched at that. “Playing martyr? Is that what you think I do?”

“No, I… damn it!” He slammed his fist back against the sealed door. It didn’t budge, but he was pretty sure something in his hand did if the spike of pain that lanced up it was anything to go by. He couldn’t suppress the foul curse as he cradled it, but refused to turn around and face the concerned expression he could feel burning into his back. 

He could still very painfully remember the last time he’d been this pissed off, and the reason why was standing right behind him. At least that time he’d had an entire bottle of fine Corellian whiskey that he could blame for his destructive behavior—he could try to attribute his temper on genetics, say it was inherited from the Revan genes, or maybe even the Malcolm side of the family—but that would be a lie. This time it was all him. And unfortunately the reason for his angry outburst this time and the last was bearing full witness to his darker side.

It was an ugly part of him that he’d tried to control, tried to shove away ever since they started the Alliance. Considering the makeup of their motley crew back on Odessen, he’d found himself falling back on the old lessons of Master Zho more than he’d ever thought he would. He used to be much more practical, more ready to sacrifice pieces of the dejarik board if it meant things came out in the favor of his side. But somewhere along the line something had changed, and the dejarik pieces had started to resemble actual people instead of some abstract concept. He wasn’t sure if it was because he’d taken a more hands-on approach than he had during his time with the SIS, brought on by the hard years as the Eternal Fleet flattened everything around him, or if it was due to the  influence of the woman currently staring a hole in his back. 

Either way, he didn’t want to slide back into the angry, despondent man he’d been after Ziost. After Zakuul.

But unfortunately want didn’t translate into action, and he could still feel the desperation and fury crawling under his skin like an iknayid scurrying through its web. Could feel it in every beat of his heart, every pulse of blood in his veins. As if his anger and sorrow was trying to break free from the chains he was desperately trying to lock down. He tried to swallow it back and focus on the pain in his hand. Unfortunately that surged on every thump of his heart, accentuated by the rise in his blood pressure.

This was the moment where he was supposed to take a breath. Supposed to calm down and reflect. Supposed to recite some ancient code that ultimately didn’t apply to him due to some fluke of genetics. All it did was amplify every sensation on every lungful he took in. Pull in every wave of fury on each cadence — until it was almost too much to ignore. Instead of calming down, he focused in on the pain in his hand, tried to hold on to each flare of it to anchor himself in the moment. He wanted to run out the doors barring his escape and lose himself in these ancient halls until he found himself again in the calm of solitude.

But he couldn’t escape his irrational anger — and neither could she.

“Theron…”

Her voice blended into the too sharp memory of their escape from Iokath, of the thoughtless words barked out over the comm. Forget about me, Theron. The Alliance can’t lose the Gravestone.

Forget… he’d never been able to forget. No matter how hard he’d tried. And oh, he had tried. With every shot of whiskey, every foolhardy mission, he’d tried so damn hard to forget it all, but he’d never been able to banish her face whenever he’d closed his eyes.

And I can’t lose you!

Because he’d already done that once—and it had nearly killed him. Some stupid ancient warship was a pale comparison to the most important thing in his life. Something he’d never imagined he’d have another chance with. Because it was only after she was gone that it had hit him in full. The full feeling of everything that they’d had, of everything that they’d lost. That acute sense of unfulfilled promise had haunted his every step, every waking moment forever a shadow of what could have been. An unending nightmare that had plagued him right up until the moment that he’d been told of his second chance.

A second chance that in the heat of battle she’d been willing to ignore—willing to throw away. For what? What survival did anyone have without her at the helm of their unsteady ship against Zakuul? What chance did he have each morning without her to remind him of what he was fighting for? He’d seen the cold and hollow expanse of the galaxy stretching before him endlessly — that path too long and full of shadows he’d long tired of fighting by himself.

He barely registered when he’d turned sharply on his heel, or how he’d crowded into her space as he’d cornered her against the wall. An action more forceful and bold than he usually took as indicated by her sharp inhale. The crush of his lips against hers was not an act of kindness but more something borne of desperation. He didn’t have the words for the tangle of emotions swirling around him. He never had the words no matter how desperately he wanted them. All he had was what he was able to put into action, as frantic and inarticulate as it was, he could only hope it somehow translated.

She should have pushed back against him, shoved him up against the doors he’d been uselessly pounding against in his attempt to escape as she was so very capable of. She could flatten him in an instant, without so much of a thought if she really wanted to. That she could have done that, but was ever so restrained somehow fueled his thirst further.

Her stillness, her hesitation, only lasted for the briefest of moments. Likely as she took in the action and tried to render the wordless struggle into some sort of logical equation. He felt her understanding kick in the moment her fingers curled into his neck, the pressure of her rough calluses against his soft, vulnerable skin almost painful. Her kiss in return was almost as hard as his, surprisingly unrelenting and powerful as if she couldn’t articulate something herself.

It wasn’t an apology. Not exactly. But Theron could swear that he tasted the regret on her tongue, even if her mouth never actually formed the word sorry.

He broke contact first, chest pounding wildly as his lungs heaved with the lack of air. He registered, almost barely, the feel of her forehead resting into the crook of his neck like a wilting flower going to rest. His throat was dry, and it took several swallows before he was able to speak properly.

“Don’t you ever ask me to do that again.” The firmness in voice wavered, cracking with an emotion he couldn’t suppress no matter how hard he tried. “Please.”

The last single word was almost as desperate and loud as the mad thumping of his heart trying to leap out of his chest. He would have tried to silence it, but his traitorous tongue had already stopped listening his commands.

“I… won’t.” Her speech was stuttered, although he couldn’t tell if it was because of the impromptu makeout session, or the emotion tinging her own voice.

Suddenly realizing how horribly awkward and imposing he’d been, he tried to put distance between he two to them but she held on to the collar of his jacket with a firm, unyielding grip. He swallowed, and looked down into her wide blue eyes. Some unquantifiable depth of emotion lurked there, but despite all his spy training he wasn’t able to decipher exactly what it meant. Just that it was meant for him.

“Do you think you can find out why the lift is broken?” The hushed tone of her question belied the intensity of the gaze she had him pinned with.

“Maybe,” he said hoarsely, “with a little time.”

“I don’t want to wait long,” she whispered. “Nor do I want to risk the rest of this being interrupted by an unwitting bystander.”

Somehow without actually speaking her intent, he understood what she meant all too clear. And the cramped quarters of a broken lift, while entertaining and thrilling for a brief amount of time, were not adequate to the emotions surging through him that he could freely express in the privacy of her quarters.

“Although,” she said after a moment, “we should probably find some kolto for your hand.”

“You have a little stowed away in your quarters, don’t you?” he asked, only half-joking.

“I might,” she said, “but wouldn’t you rather—”

“No,” he said firmly, “it can wait. Trust me.”

“Always.” The smile she graced him with lit up the cramped confines of the lift. “But I must insist on making sure you are cared for.”

Of course she did. It was one of the many reasons he couldn’t bear the thought of facing a day without her by his side. Despite the pain and everything else surging through him, he leaned forward and gave her a much gentler peck on the lips than he had before, earning the quiet smile he loved seeing so much. “Then let’s get out of here.”

“Yes,” she said, “lets.”

With another breath, this one much smoother and more controlled, he turned back to the stubborn controls that had so far eluded his control. It only took a few moments before he was able to isolate the problem and restore the programming. With a firm press of the finger from his good hand, the door swished open to the proper floor. She grasped his uninjured fingers firmly, pulling them free of their confines and leading him back towards the privacy of her quarters—where he could adequately express the full range of emotions he’d been trying to push away, and let her know exactly how needed she was over any warship or the needs of the galaxy.

The quiet, dimpled smile she flashed back at him as she led the way let him know that the need was more than mutual. And the last of his anger bled away, replaced with a much deeper, and more undeniable emotion that he’d be able to let loose once they reached the confines of her quarters. 

That.

That was something he’d gladly set free.

[marvelsior]

five times kissed

MY FAVORITE MEME || always accepting! || @sensesdialed​

The first time was Peter’s 18th birthday, to the minute. Gwen had been on patrol, his gift in her backpack, until her watch alerted her that it was time to start swinging to the Parker apartment. Within the hour, Gwen was knocking on the boy’s window once her watch alerted her that it was officially Peter’s birthday. She was greeted with that grin she would always remember–one that this Peter and her Peter would forever share. Peter Parker had made it past 17 in this universe, and it made her happy and sad all at once. Her Peter would never make it to 18, he’s been gone for years. 

Gwen sees the welcome packet for Peter’s college on his desk, the Spiderwoman removing her mask and smiling as Peter opened the window and let her in. “Excited for school?” she asked, gesturing to the desk’s contents as he grinned. “Of course! Y’know, you didn’t have to come here Gwen, it’s late! Aren’t you tired?!” Peter asked, brown eyes shining with concern as she waved him off and pulled her backpack off her shoulders to retrieve his gift. “I was out already on patrol, but I would rather die than miss my best friend’s birthday! I need to be the first to give you a present, it’s my duty as a best friend. Besides Ned, of course.”

Peter’s face lit up at her words, the Spiderwoman pulling out the wrapped package and handing it over to him with a smile. “Happy Birthday Petey,” she murmured, dark eyes watching him gently pull off the paper, only for his eyes to widen and immediately look to her. A camera. One she knew would be great for all sorts of shots–and vlogging as well. “How–?”

“You mentioned it once. In both universes,” Gwen answered, avoiding his gaze only for a minute or two as she zipped up her bag and placed it back on her back. Her heart ached only slightly, the more time she had spent with Peter over this last year of being in this universe made it hurt less and less. Honestly, it would always hurt at least a little, but she’d never been happier with the way her friends and family were all still here-in some form, at least. She takes a few strides to his side, turning the box over in his hands and pointing out specifications, showing him how this was both for photography and can also be for video, and that her mom bought some extra batteries for it, they’re in the box. She blinked and there were arms around her, Peter’s face in her shoulder thanking her as she wrapped her own arms around his waist and kept him close. “You’re welcome Pete…” 

Soon she’s on her way back to patrol, jumping over the railing as sticky feet keep her attached to the side of the building facing him as she placed her mask over the top half of her face, her grin still showing as she leaned up so she was eye-level with him. “Coney Island tomorrow?” she asked, and Peter agreed, those brown eyes shining bright in the city lights around them. Gwen Stacy had always loved Peter Parker. With every fiber of her being, she did. Unfortunately, in her universe it decided that wasn’t meant to be….and she didn’t realize just how much she loved him until he was gone. Here? Here she had a second chance to be the best friend her Peter deserved; to protect him. Now here he was, eighteen years old, going off to college in two months. He made it. Both Spider warriors hadn’t realized just how long they’d been quietly staring at each other until Gwen’s watch went off again, startling her enough to almost lose her grip on the railing–prompting Peter to flail to try and catch her–but she righted herself in time for the two of them to be inches away. She’s not sure what came over her, but moments later she leaned up and gently pressed her lips to his. She lingered for a moment or two, pulling away and very happy that her mask covered most of her face as she pulled it down and sputtered out. “Sorry, I shouldn’t-couldn’t–I’ll see you tomorrow!” and swung away. Shit. Gwen you’re an idiot what the fuck.

What she didn’t expect, was the blur of red and blue following after her moments later.

The second time was a time after Peter’s birthday, after Coney Island, after the night of Peter’s birthday where Spiderman followed Spiderwoman until he caught up–many more kisses happened between then and this time. It was Peter’s sophomore year of college, and he’d told Gwen on multiple occasions how the dorms were miserable. Flash was always there. How Flash and Peter ended up at the same school was beyond them, but it was ridiculous how the bully never took a hint; or grew up. Fucking Flash. Gwen had appeared at Peter’s dorm the night before; the three of them (Gwen, Peter and Ned) had a movie night with a blanket fort and fell asleep on the floor. The next morning she found herself in Peter’s bed with a note explaining he went to class, he’d be back in a few hours. Ned was gone for most the morning and he came back around 10am. 15 Minutes later she heard the familiar sound of Flash antagonizing someone–her Spidey sense alerted her that it was Peter moments before she heard a body hit the door. 

Gwen signaled for Ned to stay where he was, slowly creeping to the door and opening it a crack to see Peter struggle to his feet, wiping away some blood on his lip before he faced Flash again. Gwen was fortunate to not have had to deal with Flash directly, Peter had known how she didn’t want the high school to know she was here. She wasn’t their Gwen, she was too old for high school so it wasn’t like she could ‘come back’. Peter had protected her by keeping her existence a secret from their peers, just as apparently he was protecting her now. Flash was saying something about Peter being weak, about how it was his fault Gwen was dead because she went up there to meet him. Both Gwen and Peter froze on their respective sides of the door, by now Peter sensed Gwen watching and moved so he was between Flash and where she was. From there, Flash explained what he’d done–he was the one who sent the Gwen in this universe to that place. He wrote it and signed it from Peter, so Gwen would get ‘stood up’ by the boy she actually liked, just so Flash could make his move on her…but she died instead.

Gwen could feel the sorrow bubbling up in Peter’s chest, brown eyes watching his fingers twitch-wanting so badly to turn into a fist but Peter’s too good for that. Too pure. The last 5 years, Peter had beaten himself up about Gwen’s death. From 14 to 19 years old he believed it was all his fault–just as Gwen had felt these last 7 years with her Peter. Eventually, the Spiderwoman had enough and threw open the door, prompting Flash to turn white as a sheet and back away as if she was a fire coming straight for him. “G-Gwen?!” She felt Peter’s gaze on her, sensed him reaching out for her, and she placed her hand in his awaiting one before she pulled him against her, free hand gently wiping away some blood from his lip. She felt Peter instantly deflate in her grasp, just as she always did when she was angry and he was there, Now Gwen was angry. Peter had put up with SO much abuse at the hands of Flash; now this madness had to end. “For the record, Flash Thompson?” Gwen’s voice was smooth as silk, but her gaze and the edge of her tone was icy as the frozen tundra as she turned to face the cowering teen before her. “I would rather die than be with you. Fuck. Off.” Flash took the hint and fled the scene, Gwen turning her attention back to her injured boyfriend as Peter’s forehead leaned against hers. 

“He’s gonna tell everyone, you know…” he pointed out, prompting a shrug from Gwen. “Let ‘im. I don’t care anymore,” she answered, cupping his face in her hands and pressing a slow kiss to his lips, which was eagerly reciprocated by her spider-love. Two seconds later, there’s Ned; wrapping both of them in a tight embrace, exclaiming “THAT WAS SO BADASS, GO GWEN!”

The third time was after Gwen had been accepted into the Masters program, the two of them moving into a dorm/apartment on campus together for Pete’s second half of Sophomore year and Gwen’s first semester in her Masters program. Both of them on either side of Gwen’s bed, feet touching as they both kept taking notes and highlighting things they would need later. It had been hours, and Gwen’s eyes were starting to hurt. Maybe she should take a break. Peter gets up and stretches, Gwen’s gaze moving from her book to her boyfriend as he did so–she never got tired of being around him. She figured he was on his way to the bathroom, or the kitchen to get a snack, but moments later she was greeted with Peter inches from her face and placing a hand over her book.

“Hi,” she chuckled as she turned to face him, a sleepy smile across Peter’s features as he cups her cheeks and pulls her in for a kiss, prompting the elder spider warrior to run her fingers through brown curls. Free hand closes her book before she shifts so he’s standing between her legs and she’s sitting on the side of the bed, their kiss only breaking when they need air. “Time for a break,” Peter breathed, smiling when Gwen leaned in for another quick kiss. “Alright, alright. You know it’s bad when you are the one telling me we need to take a breather.” 

The fourth time was at both their graduations. Each major had a separate ceremony based off which ‘college’ your major was sorted into. First was Peter’s, then Gwen’s, then The Parkers and The Stacys threw the two a graduation party–one that Tony insisted he pay for and hold at Avengers Compound. Either way, it was just madness, and after they cut the cake the two spider warriors fled the large room where everyone was gathered with their desserts and hid in one of the nearby living rooms. Their senses were going a little haywire with the amount of noise and people in the room, they just needed a few minutes to themselves. 

Gwen was about halfway through her cake when she leaned into Peter’s shoulder and pressed a quick kiss to his neck. “I’m proud of you Petey,” she whispered, looking up at him as Peter grinned. “I’m proud of you two Gwendy.” Honestly, years ago she hated ‘Gwendy’, but it grew on her–but only if Peter was the one to call her that. 

The next kiss that followed was soft, sweet, just like Peter himself. Honestly Gwen wasn’t sure what she did to deserve him. She’d been so hardened by the world when she came to this universe, and now? Now she had more to live for. She had both her parents (father from this universe, mother that birthed and raised her), Uncle Ben and Aunt May (the former from her universe, the latter from this one), Mary Jane (her universe) and now Peter. Among so many others she’d grown to know and love over the years. Soon the two of them are stretched out on the couch in the kiss, Peter hovering above her as her hand keeps him anchored by the back of the neck. The kiss was still so soft, and she loved every second of it. She loved him more than anything, more than life itself. These last few years opened her eyes to a love she never knew she could feel, and it had almost completely eradicated the pain she felt when she first came here. Breaking away for air, Gwen stroked dark curls away from his face gently as Peter playfully flopped on top of her, arms wrapping around her waist as she chokes out a laugh; a little winded from pure muscle landing on her. 

“Thank you, Petey…” she murmurs a few minutes later, fingers playing with dark curls as he looks up at her. “For what?” he asked, those beautiful eyes locking onto hers as she smiled. “For loving me.”

Spiderman smiled once more, moving so he’s hovering above her once more, pressing his lips to hers in a deep, loving kiss before he speaks again. “Always, Gwendy. Always and forever.”

The fifth time was after a mission had gone wrong. Stark and the other male members of the Avengers had disappeared for days, only to reappear for Carol and a few others to bring them home. Gwen had been stationed at the Compound; the female Avengers going out to look for them in shifts. One day in the city, one day back at the compound. Not even the X-Men could find them with Cerebro. 

Today Gwen was pacing the living room, Natasha anxiously toying with her multiple weapons spread out across the coffee table before both spiders heard the Quinjet land in the hangar. It was early. Gwen bolted for the hangar, Natasha on her heels, and she arrived in time to see a disheveled mop of brown curls appear at the top of the ramp, blue and red suit filled with holes and covered in dirt, a hand gripping his opposite upper arm in pain, but otherwise alive. “Petey…” she breathed, eyes watering as he looked up and saw her.

Both spider warriors stumbled towards each other-Peter’s clumsiness from his horrific experience and Gwen’s from the shock of seeing him again-just for lips to crash together. Gwen’s fingers instantly tangled in soft hair, strong arms looping beneath her legs after she launched herself into him, legs wrapping around his waist to keep herself upright. “I’m okay, I’m okay,” he breathed against her lips, Gwen pressing several heated kisses there before breaking away and peppering multiple all over his face before she wrapped arms tight around his neck, resting her chin atop his head. 

“I thought I lost you again…” She whispered, feeling Peter press a soft kiss to her neck before burying his face there. 

“Gonna take a lot more than that to kill me Gwendy. Promise.” 

“I’m holding you to that…” 

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

[scxlbxrner-closed]

Generate a number from the hug prompt meme, I wanna test our luck ( also there are too many good hugs to choose from )

@linkhacked // { Fujiki Yusaku } // meme 

[ please don’t test our luck. It’s not working DX ]

9. a hug that isn’t returned23. the final hug

To be honest since the beginning of this war Takeru had been afraid of this moment. Afraid of the possibility for it to happen at all. For a while he had been rather comfortable in just ignoring the chance that it could end like that. Surely there had been ups and downs on their way but somehow they always managed to get out alive in the end. 

Not this time. 

It felt like he already had stood in Kusanagis truck for hours, even though it probably were only minutes if at all, but Takeru already found himself with all his hopes and dreams shattered into pieces while not being able to take his eyes away from the unmoving body of Yusaku lying in front of him. 

The possibility of them losing always had been there. Takeru had just started to believe that someone as good as Yusaku just couldn’t  lose at all. That nothing would happen as long as the other one was around because he would keep them safe and yet.. the other one lost. And at such high stacks as well. Until now Takeru never really had been aware of what they could lose at all. More he avoided the thought of it. Losing never was a thing back than in this hellish six months and he knew losing could mean you die. You lose everything. He just had tried so much to believe it wasn’t. 

And yet.. seeing the other one like that brought all those thoughts. Those memories just right back into his head and suddenly Takeru wasn’t so sure why he was fighting at all. They couldn’t win, could they? After every victory there would just be a new, an even stronger enemy and he was so damn tired of fighting. 

Slowly moving towards the other one who still hadn’t reacted to anything around him - Takeru could only guess what was going on in Yusakus mind right now - he carefully reached out for the other one before pulling him into a hug, pressing the body of his friend against his chest while he shut his eyes tightly to fight back the tears already forming in them. 

The other one didn’t even reacted to him, but somehow Takeru was even glad about it, because it made things easier. He was rather sure he would regret this decision at one point but right now… he couldn’t see any other way at all. 

“I’m sorry Yusaku but… I can’t. I can’t do this anymore..” 

Quietly he mumbled those words into the other teens ears before pulling back. Getting up on his feet again and without any other word he just turned around leaving the truck. Leaving his duel disk and Flame behind because he couldn’t stand it any longer. He was afraid. And running away from his fear was something he managed to do just fine over ten years so why not start with it all over again?   

[kip-quest-blog]

It’s been a good year.

We’re coming up on KipQuest’s first year anniversary and it is with a heavy heart and a conflicted soul that I announce that I am going to be closing this blog.

What happened? D:

Nothing happened in the traditional sense. I came out here for a good time and I had a good time and then I stopped having a good time. So I decided that drastic measures needed to be taken. I don’t have the desire to quit pokeask blogging, or blogging in general, or art, or storytelling, or any of that.

I just want to quit this particular blog and all the other blogs attached to this primary blog outside of my artblog (which I made a sideblog for this exact reason) and Maat’s blog. The disconnect has been months in the making and it is not at all related to my mental health or my motivation for art, or even my lack of physical energy. I’d just rather be doing literally anything else and that’s a really really bad thing for a long term project.

I tried everything I could think of to get myself going again. Memes, interactions, hiatus, total disconnect from Tumblr, a different, less stressful blog. I tried a lot. And it didn’t work. Ideas just fall flat and die sometimes so I am taking my own advice and just doing what I want to do.

Where are you going?

I’m not going anywhere. I’m going to write a blog from start to end. I’m going to have a plan. I’m going to reevaluate myself and my life choices. I’m going to do something self-indulgent and something that I will be passionate about, even if I’m just a cliched and tropey mess. I don’t know what the blog will be or the format, or the style, or even the name. I don’t know anything right now.

I don’t even know if I’ll have an answer for that question anytime soon. I will, however, be on my artblog, drawing art and dumping it there every once in a while. I’ll still be drawing pokemon like a damn nerd and I will still love it. I will probably take all the art prompts I have stockpiled and go through them as I figure out what the fresh hell I am going to do.

I’ll still be on this primary blog while I work on my other things. All the memes will be posted on my artblog as I finish them. (Though I run mostly on a queue.)

How can we reach you?

Please for the love of god, follow me on Twitter. Interact with me on Twitter because 1v1 convos are not happening and that’s because I’m busy all the time with other things. Twitter is where you can see my hilariously awful jokes and updates that get pruned out so my art is the main attraction and I can still have my fun.

My discord is not open because it’s going to be the same deal. 1v1 convos are just not on my agenda unless you’re alright with me never speaking or just saying the same tired things all the time. (i’m tired/busy/sleepy/busy) Maybe someday I’ll be in a group discord where I can talk to a lot of lovely people at the same time. (I’m already mod in one, but it has been capped for now.)

Will you tell us what your new blog is when it’s made?

Maybe. I won’t try to use this blog to promote my new one because I feel that it is disingenuous to use this thing I didn’t finish to promote something I hopefully will. Pride? It’s more like guilt. I’d hate to be a disappointment again. I’d hate to disappoint you again.

What about this story?

I can give you the very short version of what I had originally intended for Kippy’s KipQuest under the cut if you want to know the story at the most surface level. There, you will see my incredible lack of planning. I will not elaborate much more than this in the interest of not writing a novel. I apologize that all the nuance is gone. Rip all the worldbuilding.

Just in case, you decide to not read under the cut (it’s all story stuff anyway) I wanted to say thank you for all the good times. I learned a lot about art, myself, and commitment. I asked a lot of questions to a lot of people and learned so much about others. It was fun while it lasted. This is not the last you will see of me. But this will likely be the last update post I make on this blog.

You know what they say, right? Better luck next time.

Kippy would have made their internal struggle known to their mother that they didn’t know whether to pick a boy name (Skipper after Amelia’s father) or a girl name (Pankaja which is a name related to soil though the language of origin escapes me). Kippy’s mother, Amelia, assured them that no matter what they ultimately decided, it was their choice to make and that she would be proud of her little kipper.

Kippy, who was born male, chose Pankaja as her official name but still likes Kippy as a nickname. She then takes on female pronouns and begins to make her way into the world at large. During this time, Jalon, a Honchkrow leader of the village Kippy lives in, has her put on a team prematurely because Jalon does not like that Baaba challenges his authority.

Baaba confronts the Grand Psion - a sort of gauge for an individual’s potential - and demands that he tell the truth about Kippy’s potential. The Grand Psion, who was most certainly lying about Kippy’s abilities at the request of Amelia, claims ignorance and Baaba doesn’t buy it, so he storms off with renewed vigor to get Kippy trained in the only way he knew how.

Amelia has the Grand Psion lie about Kippy’s potential because Kippy was born a Bad Egg because Amelia had a lot of trouble with having children. Amelia had a number of previous attempts with her mate, Armament - who was a Garchomp that died in the line of duty - but they all either miscarried or just did not hatch when they were supposed to. She begged the Grand Psion to lie about Kippy so Kippy wouldn’t get herself killed in a military life. Kippy never finds this out.

Kippy is paired with Pepin, a Buneary who failed to live up to his family’s astronomical expectations, and Pax, a Swablu who hates being a Priest and fulfilling the role of a “healer” despite having the ability to use Heal Pulse. The three of them are sent off on a mission that was not meant for them to complete, due to a mix up between assignments.

They end up delving into a cavern and finding evidence of humans existing as well as the Red and Blue Orbs and the Meteorite, which were placed in this deep cavern to keep Columbia, a radically violent and nihilistic Origin Jirachi, from continuing to hunt down and slaughter other Jirachi to gain their power.

Kippy releases Columbia, who very nearly kills the three of them on sight and disappears into the Realm of the Fairies, who have begun preparations to make an attempt at truce.

Bellatrix, who had saved Kippy and Arimus from the approaching Fairies in the beginning, ended up returning to face those approaching intruders head on with her partner, Ronnie. Ronnie is a Gardevoir who did not gain the Fairy typing when the original Blight swept the land. Nobody knows why this was, but that is the only reason she is accepted in the Valley of Darkness.

That Fairy party was a party sent by the highest order of fairy nobles to attempt a truce with the smaller neighboring land before a hopeful collaboration to unify with the Land of Dragons. The Prince of the Fairies was sent as a means of instilling an element of trust, but Bellatrix doesn’t believe that the instigators of this divisive conflict have any positive intentions in mind. She mega evolves, kills most of those present on both sides, and flees into the forest, where she succumbs to the dangerous power that mega evolution entails and falls into madness fueled only by fury and rage. Ronnie survives only because the Fairy Prince, Adelaide, stabilized her.

When Kippy and company return to the village, Jalon panics because he assumed they were going to do something simple, and instead came back with items that belong to the Land of Dragons. In order to maintain control of his people, he accuses Kippy and company of being insiders and mounts an attack using only his Murkrow flock. Pax’s trainer was an Eevee and she jumps in to protect her trainee, evolving into a Sylveon to have a better chance of fending Jalon’s lackeys off, though this solidifies the accusation that Kippy and co (and by extension, their families) are spies for the enemy.

Amelia immediately and instinctually uses her combined strength with Pax’s trainer, and Baaba, to give Kippy and co a chance to escape alive. It is never determined whether their families survived this attack because Kippy never ends up going back.

Baaba finds them in the hills outside of the village. Kippy is panicking, but Pax and Pepin are able to calm her down well enough for the four of them to figure out where they need to go. Baaba says that the Land of Dragons would be their best bet because he knows someone who has clout.

They are discovered by an adventuring party of Fairies, are captured, and taken back to the main hub where all the decisions are made. They are granted amnesty because the Fairies are attempting to make peace with the surrounding areas.

The Fairies are under the control of Xerneas, who is a fragmented and corrupted being that was created by The Bastard Palkia. Xerneas itself is an instinctual being, who has complete and total mind control over all Fairies on this world when it is awake. It only ever seeks to destroy anything that would oppose it, as well as anything that it deems a danger to it. Xerneas had been asleep for a while, but the damage already done had to be slowly undone, which proved to be almost impossible considering that the sight of a Fairy usually meant a fight was going to break out, so peace talks were rare and were hardly ever successful.

Kippy wants to help, naturally, but has no idea how to do so. She thinks that the Jirachi she released would be able to help, so she goes looking for it. Baaba stays close by for the longest time until he is attacked during another encounter with Columbia and is revealed to be a Zoroark. Kippy takes this rather well in the moment, but later confronts Baaba about it.

Baaba explains that pokemon in the area all live on a massive island created by the same Mewtwo who gave Bellatrix the ability to mega evolve. This area used to be a secluded safe haven in Kalos, so many pokemon who were harmed by experimentation make up the population, which is why there is a rather tumultuous civilization in the works. Columbia offers to spare this world if they can convince the slumbering native Jirachi to appear so Columbia can take it. It is assumed that Columbia’s attempts at seeking the native Jirachi failed, and he claimed that he was “helping” the mortals because he is a god.

Columbia is an elder god, but he is also a creation of The Bastard and is therefore, fundamentally broken on every single level of his existence. This doesn’t really matter, but Columbia spins it in a way to make himself look better, and to get Kippy and Baaba to call the native Jirachi. This works later on and that Jirachi is shredded and consumed by Columbia, who then departs to find more Jirachi to consume after flipping all his middle fingers up at the preps.

Baaba does not accept Columbia’s offer, but Kippy comes up with a plan to trick Columbia into a false sense of security. This plan fails miserably. Columbia kills the native Jirachi, and in retaliation for mortals even attempting to lie to him, wakes Xerneas up from its deep slumber. He naturally has a big villain speech explaining how Fairies are indeed evil by design because The Bastard doesn’t care about what it makes and leaves things to fester. Even humans have harnessed Fairy energy to create devastating weapons and this is no exception.

Xerneas arises and takes control of all the Fairies. At the same time, in human civilization, Magearna and the Ultimate Weapon designs are finished and deployed. The rise in harmful energy leads to a chain reaction where Xerneas’s instability directly contributes to the creation of a second, more unstable Yveltal constructed of corrupted energy.

Yveltal flees, spreading devastation and destruction everywhere. The world begins to end and there is a bright light in the sky.

Kippy and co try their best to help, but they are divided on what to do. Xerneas needs to be stopped, but there is chaos unfolding around them as they try to escape the Realm of Fairies and make their way to the Land of Dragons. Baaba has stayed with them, and no longer assumes the form of a Rattata. When they make it to the Land of Dragons, Baaba seeks out and finds the oldest dragon there, a Charizard named Basil.

Basil is upset at how these events have unfolded, but when the gods are involved, it never ends well. He promises that his attacks will be swift, but he is not optimistic. Kippy is worried, though by this time, she has evolved from a Mudkip/Gible into a Garchomp. There was a lot of tears shed and fear throughout this transitionary period, but she is determined.

Columbia has disappeared, but his presence alerted Marty, a Celebi who immediately arrives to survey the damage. It’s too much to bear. The end of the world is coming naturally, so he begins his job to tie up the loose ends and let the world collapse in itself. Despite Baaba begging that Marty not do this, Marty does not listen. Baaba lashes out because he wants Kippy to be okay. That’s his partner. His most trusted companion. And he is too smart to let her go so easily.

Marty explains that it’s better for all of existence if this world dies naturally instead of being ripped apart for no reason. Xerneas must be contained. Baaba asks Marty if Xerneas could be contained, would that allow the world to be left alone. Marty makes no promises, but does hint that their time would be extended, as everything dies eventually.

Baaba and Kippy convince Pepin and Pax to go back to the village to reiterate the information that they learned. They also convince Marty to go with them to confirm their story. Baaba and Kippy then go to Xerneas, who is deep within the forests, wandering and screaming.

Baaba has a special tool that he plans to use in order to get Xerneas under control. They fight, they win, Kippy mega evolves, and Baaba uses a Master Ball to seal Xerneas away.

It, at one point, would have been made known that Baaba is from human settlements in Kalos, where he was born before his mother made a deal with Mewtwo to create this supposed sanctuary. Humans had done a lot of fucked up shit prior to this and his mother was the result of experiments in testing pokemon’s potential. He carried with him a couple of tools from the human settlements because he inherited that human level of intelligence and planning.

Once Xerneas is sealed away in the Master Ball, Baaba explains to Kippy that there is a whole other world out there to explore and he remembers fondly traveling through Kalos a little bit before his mother whisked him away from humans as a whole. He says he wants Kippy to see the world for what it is, a wonderful place, but humans are also not to be messed with. Baaba explains that humans treat pokemon differently and sometimes badly and he wants to change that, but the only way he knows how is to show them. He offers Kippy the opportunity to go with him to Kalos. Kippy accepts.

Baaba also offer this opportunity to Pepin and Pax, both of whom have evolved fully. Pepin accepts. Pax does not.

It ends with Kippy and Pepin willingly being put into customized pokeballs and Baaba assuming the form of a human before it’s assumed that they go to Kalos and change the human world as well.

That’s all ey wrote. Hopefully the next time I do this, I do a better job.