jeaniegreysummers

[jeaniegreysummers]

roguemutxnt​:

Anna Marie hasn’t been to Sara Memorial Hospital before. Hospitals became not her favorite places to be. It all started when she kissed that boy, Cody Robbins. Her mutant powers finally awoke, making Cody fall into endless coma. She remembered sitting in the waiting room, starring at the spotless white floor, while Mrs. Robbins was screaming, that it was “that girl”, who killed her boy. At that time Anna Marie was feeling fully numb, shocked, you might say. She recalled her stern aunt Carrie, ushering her niece to get back to the car before Mrs. Robbins herself didn’t fall into coma because of ceaseless wailing.

But today was different. Jean has contacted her and invited here to talk. Anna Marie knew that Jean became a director of the hospital, meaning she probably was busy most of the time. That’s why Anna Marie was curious about what Jean wanted to discuss in the middle of the day. She was holding a transparent plastic cup with cold water, waiting for Jean.

///

For years, Jean held back from discovering her true potential. Xavier shielded her from the extent of her telepathic abilities, allowing her access to only telekinesis in the early years of her training. She knew why he’d done it – and owing everything to the man in question meant she was loath to question his intentions – but it meant when she finally had the chance to explore everything, it had seemed daunting, almost impossible.

Anna Marie was in the same spot. Her powers had a destructive potential few others could claim, but the potential benefits were something that Jean had to admit they hadn’t explored even partly. Anna Marie was told to hide away for the benefit of others, an admirable mission, but now …

Now, Jean could offer her something more.

When she spotted her friend in the lobby of the hospital, a warm smile spread over Jean’s face. She pushed down her natural instinct to hug and instead hoped the enthusiasm in her voice would compensate. “I’m so glad to see you,” she said. “You haven’t been waiting too long, have you? One of my patients got some great news, I got caught talking to them a few floors up.”

#anna marie: applications #char: anna marie

[jeaniegreysummers]

vengeancedemons​:

(✉️ ➡️ fire chick): you ever use that telepathy shit to get time off work? (✉️ ➡️ fire chick): you ever use it to get /other people/ time off work? (✉️ ➡️ fire chick): like, are you morally opposed to that? (✉️ ➡️ fire chick): really not feeling like fixing cars today. could use a telepath.

(✉️ ➡️ fire head 🔥): Considering I work with several other telepaths, that might not work out as well for me as you think. (✉️ ➡️ fire head 🔥): Do you really think I would do that? [...] (✉️ ➡️ fire head 🔥): What do you want to do with your day off? (✉️ ➡️ fire head 🔥): I'm assuming you have other plans. (✉️ ➡️ fire head 🔥): I'm morally opposed to melting minds so you can lie on the couch eating Cheetos, yes.

#robbie: cheetos #char: robbie reyes #texts

[jeaniegreysummers]

kxtepryde​:

[📱to Jean!! ] hi! [📱to Jean!! ] everything is fine! [📱to Jean!! ] it’s not fine, Jean I don’t think I’m fin– [DELETED] [📱to Jean!! ] I’m a little stuck, though! and my possible jackhammer friend hasn’t answered yet, so I’m stuck and short a jackhammer [📱to Jean!! ] it’s okay, though, you know I’m cozy here [📱to Jean!! ] kinda cramped [📱to Jean!! ] and you know I really shouldn’t be /stuck/, so that’s concerning, it’s [📱to Jean!! ] doing me a concern, as the doge says [📱to Jean!! ] I don’t really know what to do right now, but hey! could you be my backup jackhammer friend? you can do jackhammers with your mind right? [📱to Jean!! ] I was just outside of Bo’s, I think I’m still there? [📱to Jean!! ] I’m okay [📱to Jean!! ] sort of, it’s– [DELETED] [📱to Jean!! ] actually don’t like this– [DELETED] [📱to Jean!! ] you know I’ve always been so scared of the /opposite/ I hadn’t stopped to consider– [DELETED] [📱to Jean!! ] Jean I’m getting scared– [DELETED] [📱to Jean!! ] totally calm! take your time, I managed to get to Bo’s /before/ getting stuck, so no imminent starvation here or anything

(✉ → kitkat👻): When you start off conversations like that, it makes me think things are less than fine, Kitty. (✉ → kitkat👻): Jackhammer? Are we talking sentient machine or human wielding a tool? (✉ → kitkat👻): Wait, /you're/ stuck? (✉ → kitkat👻): Is it possible for you to send me your location? (✉ → kitkat👻): I could alter the molecules a little, see if that loosens things up for you? (✉ → kitkat👻): UNSENT Or it could turn the whole thing into quicksand which would be, you know, less than ideal. (✉ → kitkat👻): Okay, that's not too far from where I'm at. (✉ → kitkat👻): I can be there in fifteen minutes on the bus, hold on. [...] (✉ → kitkat👻): Do you want to keep talking while I'm on my way? (✉ → kitkat👻): Maybe we could talk about why you think your abilities might've given up the ghost. [...] (✉ → kitkat👻): Bad joke. Sorry.

#kitty: urgent #char: kitty pryde #texts

[jeaniegreysummers]

rictorscales​:

(✉️ ➡️ big bird): shit my bad i didn’t realize it was time for your biweekly death (✉️ ➡️ big bird): should i text back in an hour? you’ll be resurrected by then, right? (✉️ ➡️ big bird): or should i just open a quick crater and drop the cop car in it? because frankly, i like that solution better anyway. i only texted the sos as a courtesy 

(✉ → ricky 💚): It's the only time I get some kind of peace. (✉ → ricky 💚): You know there are other people you can call when you need bail, right? I have no money, Rictor. (✉ → ricky 💚): You won't survive the hour without me, (✉ → ricky 💚): Please tell me you haven't /already/ dropped a cop car in a crater?

#julio: biweekly #char: julio richter #texts

[jeaniegreysummers]

firstxman​:

“Well, I’ll be sure to offer myself up as a sacrifice so you aren’t martyred for my discrimination.” His tone was dry as ever, smile playing at the corners of his lips. In a way, he could understand why the city’s rats, suddenly given the chance to voice their opinions, had nasty things to say. There were few creatures looked down upon quite to the same level as they were, after all. Scott sighed as Jean spoke again, nodding reluctantly. “It may be the best we have to offer,” he agreed, and he hated the truth in it. He had always fought so that his children could live a better life than he had. It was one of the driving forces behind his dedication to the cause. It was too late to spare his brother, too late to spare his wife or his friends, but he’d been determined to spare his children. And he’d failed in that. Rachel had suffered just as he had suffered, and Scott could do nothing to change that. It ached, knowing that. He knew Jean felt the same. “I suppose it’s something of a family tradition.” It was a joke and it wasn’t.

But at least they could do this. At least they could give their daughter this, even if this was only a family dinner that was bound to end in disaster because it was their family. “Kitty does have an eye for those things.” He smiled faintly as she intertwined her fingers with his, squeezing her hand gently. “Me, too,” he replied quietly. Moments like this were so rare, so precious. Scott existed for them, for these windows of calm before the storms that raged their lives. Even if this particular calm included rats singing on the fire escape and sentient Halloween decorations pounding at the bedroom door.

///

“Nuh-uh, big guy,” Jean said, leaning in to press a kiss to the centre of his forehead, fingers trailing along the curve of his jaw. “The only sacrificing you’re doing tonight is to the turkey gods so we don’t burn the sauce.” There had to be such a thing, right? Maybe that was the element of cooking that Jean had missed out on (there were certainly stranger things in the world to count on than deities). The smile on her face faded slightly, but didn’t entirely go away, as they continued to speak. After all, it was all they had ever wanted – to have a home they felt safe in, to have each other, to have a child out there in the world, a person who was half of each of them. “I worried that I’d dreamt her,” Jean admitted, lowly. “The same as I did with Maddie, you know – I worried, when they appeared, that it was something else, something that would fade away. But they’re not going anywhere, are they?” Her sister was always on the periphery of her mind, her presence a constant reassurance that she hadn’t faded into the stars. Jean might not be able to explain how Maddie and Rachel came to be here, but maybe not everything needed to be explained.

After all, there were so many things in this moment that seemed impossible twenty years ago. The fact that they could be married, that they could both be alive, that someone could understand her as Scott did and love her all the same, despite her dark corners and twisted thoughts. “I think she might have an eye for something else, too,” Jean admitted, and the teasing smirk reappeared on her face, even if it was a little smaller than before. “We should do it more often,” she suggested. “I know we’re both busy, but … life’s short, right? We deserve a night off – or maybe even a postponed honeymoon.”

#scott: thanksgiving #char: scott summers

[jeaniegreysummers]

phoenixtouched​:

There was a lot that was hidden in the distance between them. A thousand more questions that Rachel figured she’d never get answered. And Jean might not ever ask. It was easier in the moment to pretend those things didn’t tear at the edges of whatever was forming here, but when Rachel wasn’t looking her mom in the eyes? That was when the resentment grew. In conversations like this, it was easier for her to pull away and say next time. But next time just repeated every other awkward time. Like now – what was she supposed to tell her mom? That she died so young that Rachel didn’t know her outside of stories other people told about her?

The words that came out… they were exactly what Rachel had meant, but that didn’t stop her from noticing the stiffness in Jean’s posture. It didn’t stop her from wishing she hadn’t said anything at all. She had highlighted that distance she had and thrown it in her face. But it was the most honest thing she had said since she had gotten here. (And maybe it was the most honest she had been to herself about her feelings.)

“I have her.” It might have seemed like over confidence on Rachel’s part, but she did credit a lot of her knowledge and power in her own relationship with the Phoenix to her mother – and to Maddie to some degree. “I begged for her. A chance to prove myself – a chance to be—” just like you. That is what her life had come down to back then. All the lines that people drew between her and her mom, telling her how she looked just like Jean. How she sounded like her, how they missed her. And Rachel tried to fill that hole in their lives. (Another root of resentment that Rachel had dove into.) “Is that what you would want?” She looked her in the eyes. “To be protected? Shielded from everything? Is that what you would want?” Maybe this Jean hadn’t birthed her, but she had gone much further to try and be a parent than any other version that Rachel had run into. “It’s too late for that.” Honest or cruel? “You think I look at you like you died and left – like I’m mourning you. Put the shoes on yourself. You look at me like you failed me when you didn’t – when you don’t know me. You’re too busy ‘protecting’ me to see me.”

///

Jean remembered the first time she had talked about her parents with anyone other than Charles, who always maintained that they were good people who just didn’t understand yet, but they would (twenty years seemed a long time to live in ignorance with hope of enlightenment). It had been with Scott, because of course it was, and afterwards the guilt of complaining about her parents who were alive and well to an orphan had threatened to swallow her whole, but it provided her with insight, too. Her parents had dragged them to the dinner table every night. They’d been forced to make small talk about the food, discuss their day at school but never going into detail that might make things uncomfortable. They spoke without talking. Their relationship dynamics were forced and when the slightest pressure was applied, they splintered.

She always swore that when she had children, things would be different. They would be natural. They’d be open, honest, want to spend time together, and understand when they needed space. But she was looking at Rachel now, seeing the way her daughter looked at her, and all she could think about was history repeating. She’d been arrogant enough to think she could escape the curse of genes when so many other people had succumbed to it before.

“I asked for her too,” Jean said, quietly. She’d begged for her life, for the life of her friends, to return to Earth and put her hands into the dirt for one more time instead of perishing out there among the stars, never to be heard from again. “That doesn’t mean I’m in control.” She’d always assumed it was more of a partnership than anything – never subscribed to the notion that one part was greater than the other. She hoped that was the way Rachel would take what she said, but more and more lately, Jean wondered whether there was someone in charge, and it wasn’t her. “I’ve never wanted to be protected,” Jean said, “but I have been. By Charles, Logan, your father. I’ve been shielded more than I know. As angry as that makes me sometimes, it’s a privilege to be cared for that much.” It was also, Jean knew, difficult to accept when you were used to fighting for yourself. “I don’t know if there’s a way to see you,” Jean admitted, because if they were aiming for painful honesty, she could serve it back just the same (they were so similar). “Just like I don’t know if there’s a way for you to see me, instead of someone else. I– I don’t know if we’ll always just be competing with ghosts.”

#rachel: dinner #char: rachel summers

[jeaniegreysummers]

immortalweapon​:

“Me, too.” And he was. Danny’s kindness and insistence on seeing the best in people might have gotten him into no small amount of trouble over the years, had nearly gotten him killed more times than he could count, but he clung to it anyway. He would keep clinging to it, for as long as he possibly could, because without it? It would be so easy for him to lose himself in all of the terrible things he’d been through. Danny had known for a while now that the line that existed between himself and Davos was a thin one, and he didn’t want to fall onto the wrong side of it. He didn’t want to become the sort of person who was vindictive, who blamed the world for his every problem. He wanted to be better than that. And he thought Jean might feel similarly. He really did.

Shifting, Danny shrugged a shoulder, pretended she hadn’t hit the nail on the head. Jean was smart. Probably one of the smartest people he knew, and that was including people like Tony. Jean saw people and understood them the same way Tony did with robots, and there was something a little terrifying about that, something a little unsettling. “I don’t feel like I’m who I’m supposed to be,” he admitted. “Not yet. And I just… I don’t want to keep letting people down.” He thought that this, too, was something she probably understood. The weight Jean carried on her shoulders was different than the one Danny had on his, but it was present all the same.

///

“If building Genosha has taught me anything,” Jean said, shifting in her seat to look at Danny properly (he didn’t shy away from anything, not even someone seeing him, a streak of courage Jean could respect), “it’s that the world needs more people who prioritise kindness over self-interest.” The mutants who first arrived in their country had given everything in hopes of creating a new life. They sacrificed their anonymity, their careers, sometimes even their families’ acceptance, all so they could build towards something bigger. They were gaining more notoriety and acceptance now, but it was still a risky move in the beginning – far more dangerous for others than it had ever been for Jean, who had so little to lose.

Jean hummed lowly, taking Danny’s words and turning them over a few times. “I know what you mean,” she admitted. She wasn’t sure if that was the best response from a professional standpoint, but from a personal one, she could relate to it on a lot of levels. “I think it takes a lot of time to find out who you are supposed to be,” Jean said, “and a lot of trial and error. You’ve only really started testing out theories in the last couple of years, right?” Before that, she got the impression Danny didn’t have much of a choice on the direction his life would take. “Who do you think you’re letting down, Danny? Because it isn’t me. It isn’t Colleen. It isn’t the people in your company, or your parents’ legacy. You’re making everyone proud – and you don’t need to be the fully-formed Daniel Rand to do that.”

#danny: consult #char: danny rand

[jeaniegreysummers]

kxtepryde​:

“All the best things are classified.” Kitty followed Jean as she laid back, closing her eyes at the gentle, comforting way she ran her hands through her hair. She wasn’t sure exactly what she’d been looking for in a bag of candy corn. It could’ve been pick-up lines, or just one Halloween item that wouldn’t talk back to her. She did know Jean always had more answers than questions, ever since Kitty was small and scared and lost. She might not know the ingredients to real honey candy corn, but she knew that’s not what Kitty really needed.

“Yeah, yeah, I know. By a pretty cool guy, no less.” They were always seemed so in love. Kitty could see it, hear it in every single text message. It was sweet, and maybe that’s what she was looking for in the candy corn. “You’re both really sweet, you know.”

She laughed on a sigh, halfway to falling asleep, the candy corn and its mysteries nearly forgotten. “I don’t celebrate Halloween, it’s…kinda just a dot on a calendar, like Christmas. I’ll have to find a much better occasion to show off my Chewbacca. Why, are you trying to get rid of me?”

///

“You’re welcome to guess, though,” Jean offered, wiggling her eyebrows in Kitty’s direction, lips curled up into a smirk. “We could get a proper culinary explosion going on in here. CSI into spices, if you wanted. MasterChef on steroids. A hundred different spices and only you and your fine taste buds can work out which one is closest.” Jean wouldn’t give away her secrets for free, but she was willing to if someone worked for them – and even more than that, she welcomed spending more time with Kitty. Life was precious, she knew that more than most, and she also knew that Kitty would only talk about things that were bothering her after approximately three hours and twenty-three minutes of doing something entirely unrelated.

Pretty cool. Jean knew Kitty was joking (and also knew how much she respected Scott, so the compliment was a massive understatement) but she still responded with the same grin as she had when Hank said Scott was pretty dashing back in high school. “We try to be,” Jean said, grabbing another handful of candy corn. “The best way to love someone is in a way that they can’t deny, you know? We made it complicated in the beginning, but then we realised life was short, time was fleeting, all that stuff. It makes more sense to just … blurt it out, now.” A hundred times a day, if necessary. “Chewbacca can be held back for ComicCon,” Jean suggested, “if you go to that? I’ve never been, but there was someone there last year in a yellow domino mask and a green mini skirt, so I think if I avoid it anymore, I might lose my trademark.” She finished off her mouthful of candy, and then nudged Kitty fondly with her shoulder. “Never,” she said. “I love having you here.”

#kitty: candy corn #char: kitty pryde

[jeaniegreysummers]

phoenixtouched​:

It was advice that might have been helpful to Rachel – even now. Being told that she didn’t need to be everything for everyone – she didn’t need to be their martyr or their savior. Jean had been in that position enough times herself that the Hound knew just where Rachel had gotten those ideas. None of that reached her face. There was a warmth there, an attempt at it, at least. The Hound doubted that she’d ever master the quiet reservations that Rachel had when she spoke to people who mattered to her. That kind of strained delicacy was hard to mimic. “Shouldn’t it be an obligation to change things? Having this power and doing nothing is just another form of violence.”

Why was she showing her now? With clenched teeth, the Hound shrugged. A simple movement that was soon accompanied by words that she knew Rachel would never say, but ones that would strike right at the heart of Jean Grey. “Because I want to be alone. Because I’ve always been alone, and I don’t feel like playing the part of the daughter no one ever really wanted tonight.” There was a beat where the Hound thought that Jean might defend her position – but this relationship was uncomfortable. For both Rachel and Jean. If the Hound pushed a little more… maybe this would be much easier than she thought. “Before you pull some cherry-picked words from your bag, mom,” the word mom dripping with acid, “—actions. Not words. It’s always been my preference.”

Anger was easy for the Hound. And when it was real – it was just that much easier to show without having to strain her memory to search for what any of those feelings showed themselves as on the surface. (Smiling, she had found, was the worst.) But Jean gave her some space, and the Hound nodded, not dampening the anger – Rachel was a child. (And so was the Hound.) The obvious expression was to be expected. And all of this piggybacked off a conversation that Rachel had already had with Jean. (Too easy.) “Before nine. I have an errand to run but it shouldn’t take long.”

///

“I never said it wasn’t an obligation,” Jean replied, her voice far more even than the emotions brimming under the surface. “I’m saying that it’s impossible to achieve. They’re two different things. We have to be realistic about the impact we can have without causing more harm than good.” It was easy to get carried away with the power they held. This conversation was touching on every part of herself she hated, every argument she’d ever fought and lost in her own mind. Jean was the most powerful, the most measured, the most beautiful. The most, at the end of the day, in every conceivable way – and yet there were times when she faltered and failed. If she was the most, her family would still be alive, whether she loved them or not. People wouldn’t suffer merely for sharing her blood.

She wondered if that was weighing on Rachel’s mind now, because there was certainly something. They’d never fully let down their defences – never got close – but there was a connection there that felt strained, now, a thread twisted and tied so tightly that the fibres may fray. “We wanted you,” Jean said, eyebrows knitting together, confused as to how Rachel could’ve reached that conclusion from the hundreds of others. “We’ve always wanted you. It’s never been about wanting. It’s always been about …” Capability? Trusting the world not to fall down around them when they finally had something good to hold onto? “It’s an adjustment period,” she said. “I thought coming here was enough of an action to prove my intentions.”

As per usual, there was something missing, here. Jean did one thing and her daughter took another meaning out of it, and then the reciprocation only tangled the complications together further. They were so similar, so Scott said, and Jean could see it now with those flames flickering in her daughter’s eyes (metaphorical, as she hoped they’d stay) and yet, it was so impossible to understand her. “Don’t be late,” Jean said, finally, after the silence drew out between them long enough that she assumed Rachel was never going to tell her the errand she was running. “Your father worries.” So do I.

#(( end )) #rachel: hound #char: rachel summers

[jeaniegreysummers]

ruleroflimbo​:

“Venmo?” Illyana asked, a confused frown on her face, though she quickly shook it off, it wasn’t what she was here for. “Fair question I suppose” she’d never been too forthcoming about Limbo or anything to do with the dimension, but it was mostly because people didn’t ask, not like Jean had. She had been unsure about Jean coming along for this though. Everything she created in Limbo was corrupted by dark magic, she’d never figured out how to restore the lands in the dimension so that wouldn’t happen. She wasn’t sure she wanted Jean to see that, but after what Jean had done to help Illyana against Belasco, giving her some answers to the questions she’d asked about the dimension was the least she could do. “You asked about Limbo and it’s easier to show you, and the new citadel has been built so I figure now is a good time as any” she shrugged. “You don’t have to but if you’re still curious…” she trailed off as she opened a stepping disk to take them to Limbo.

///

“You know, the shared payment app?” Jean offered, raising an eyebrow. “You’d know what it was if you ever actually paid me back for the pizza.” There was no real weight to her words, of course. Money had always been an issue for as long as she could remember, but now, her promotion and her husband’s career taking off meant that they were in a position where they could afford to be ripped off on the pepperoni front. “I meant to ask about that,” Jean said, pushing herself to the edge of the sofa, reaching over the side to grab the jacket she’d dropped there a few nights before when she got home from work. “Limbo buildings aren’t brick and mortar, right? So what are they? The power of thought? Magic? Brimstone?” Jean got to her feet, slipping her jacket on and brushing down some dust from the floor. “I’m going,” she said, immediately, not allowing for argument. “Take me to see the new place. I’ve got a lot of questions.”

#illyana: limbo #char: illyana rasputin

[jeaniegreysummers]

ruleroflimbo​:

Illyana always distanced herself from people, even Jean who was the only telepath she kept her shield down for. Even Katya who she’d shared a room and grew up with. The distance was less with them but it was still there, and while Illyana had tried to remove the distance some part of her was afraid to do it. There were several reasons for that but in the end it always seemed to come back to Limbo and Belasco. Belasco had taught her that love was conditional, that it could so easily be taken away and while she tried so hard not to believe that… she hadn’t quite managed to unlearn that yet.

“No” her answer was instant because it was something she’d thought about a lot since her resurrection and she always came back to that if she had to, she would have made the same choice a thousand times over. “When I first came back I did consider that it might have been different if Katya hadn’t been there but… the outcome would have been similar except I believe it would have happened quicker and I’m not sure I would have been able to take the demon with me.” In fact, Katya being there that day, was the only reason she kept fighting. No matter how tired she was, how much her lungs burned with each breath, how much pain she was in she kept fighting. She refused to stop until she could ensure Katya was safe.

///

It had never been difficult for Jean to empathise with another person. There were times when she chose to forgo that more compassionate side of herself that came more naturally than anything else in favour of anger that grew in her like a hurricane, but she could always see at least part of the issue from someone else’s perspective – a side effect of telepathy, she assumed, although her mother would argue she had always been like that (if she were alive today to argue). When Illyana spoke about Limbo, though, it was difficult for Jean to truly understand no matter how hard she tried. Her experiences in the dimension were limited and not truly varied – she’d always been shown a sanitised version, always seen it when it was peaceful.

“You said you knew only one of you were getting out of there alive,” Jean said, “but you’re both here, now, living. Kitty got through it, and so did you.” There were some victories that they could take pride in that the world would never give them credit for, but in this case, Jean didn’t think Illyana needed anyone else to know, so long as her best friend was safe. “That has to tell you that you did something good, that you’re inherently good, even if external forces try to convince you otherwise. In the worst circumstances, you put someone else as first priority instead of yourself. You’re a good person, Illyana. I’d trust you more than almost anyone to have my back when it comes down to it.”

#illyana: memories #char: illyana rasputin

[jeaniegreysummers]

you’re here and that is enough. || @phoenixtouched

They were always too short on something. Time. Experience. Faith. The X-Men were used to working in times of strife of all three, but perhaps they’d grown a little too used to prosperity since Genosha grew its roots. The city continued to grow exponentially, faster than any before it in history, and Jean could only imagine generations after her growing up knowing only a place where mutants could be safe to live together. They’d accomplished the impossible – she’d accomplished the impossible – and yet, sitting beside her own flesh and blood, she had no idea what to say.

When she put that feeling into words, the silence grew between them like something insidious. Jean wished she’d never spoken at all, though they’d broached this subject before; the awkwardness that only grew as they realised neither of them knew how to do this. A mother and daughter, both stumbling through in the dark. But then Rachel shifted beside her on the bench, and she said that, and Jean looked up at her. “I feel the same way,” she admitted, quietly. All the complications, all the obvious issues, all the feelings Rachel dredged up with her presence … “You know how glad I am that you’re here, right?” she asked. (How could she know? Jean had never said it before, never even alluded to it.) “I’m the happiest I’ve ever been, because of you.”

#rachel: confessions #char: rachel summers

[jeaniegreysummers]

i did my best. || @rictorscales

It took a lot to get Rictor to open up – at least without screaming and hurling insults at each other that would sting far more in retrospect than they did in the moment. Privately (because only a telepath of her calibre could avail of such a thing) Jean wondered if that was why Rictor spent so much time with her; if the potential of something hurting in the long run made it far more worth his time than something that would provide any benefit, even if she did try to aim for the latter as much as possible. It was always easier to damage than it was to build, at least when you were Jean Grey.

She’d worked out something of a system, though, to get him to have only a few words of honesty before he built those walls up again. Burning off excess energy and helping Genosha at the same time was a surefire way to do it, and they’d spent the afternoon with Jean constructing buildings while Rictor created an ecosystem around it – a living city even before its inhabitants had arrived. “I think you’ve done very well,” Jean said, looking around at the buildings. “I like the azaleas.” A moment passed, the wind blowing lightly through her hair, and Jean turned back to look at him. “Are we talking about the flowers, Rictor?”

#julio: best #char: julio richter #self harm mention tw

[jeaniegreysummers]

everyone gets their wings clipped at some point. || @glxrious-purpose

Seeking out villains to get answers was generally frowned upon. If she told Scott, he wouldn’t judge her (he never had) but there was little doubt that adorable concerned frown would appear on his brow and they’d face a lengthy conversation about possible alternatives. Jean would welcome that debate if time wasn’t a crucial concern. Most nights, as opposed to only once every few months, she woke up in a cold sweat, mysterious sands buried under her fingernails, knees and elbows scraped. The Phoenix was becoming restless, and what she had planned made Jean nervous. They were barely skating by the Shi’ar’s notice now – if the Phoenix acted in any way that could be traced back to her, her husband and daughter were in danger.

Desperate times called for desperate measures. Tracking Loki down had been somewhat difficult, even by Jean’s expectations. He protected his mind, letting down his defences only when Jean knew he wanted to be found, and that was how she stood in what was clearly a stolen penthouse, resting against the doorframe looking at the god. (That word had been used to describe her, too. She wondered if he appreciated that, or took it as a challenge.) “Asking for help isn’t a sign of weakness,” Jean replied, crossing her arms against her chest. “Having power is worth nothing if you don’t know how to wield it – and I’m not a fan of trial and error when there is this much collateral damage involved. I’m just here to ask you one thing.” She chewed at the inside of her cheek, careful not to show outward anxiety. “There was a rumour,” she said, “about a box, carved by the Asgardians, that had the potential to trap the flame inside. My flame. Do you know anything about where I might find it?”

#loki: assistance #char: loki laufeyson

[jeaniegreysummers]

i loved you my whole life. || @firstxman

Scott and Jean had always been good at communicating (or at least they started to be good at communication that night after the shuttle accident, when they finally put credence to their feelings and admitted something even if it made them vulnerable to do so). They lived in each other’s minds, they spent almost every day together, and they had spent their lives together before that. Of course, that didn’t preclude her husband from occasionally trying to protect her feelings.

He didn’t do it with dishonesty (he never would; one of many reasons why Jean adored him). He did it by stating the truth as simply as he could. Jean sighed, about to argue that wasn’t the point, but then she looked at him on the other end of the sofa and couldn’t help but break into a smile at the warmth in her chest at his words. “I know that,” she said, leaning in to kiss him briefly, “and you know I love you, but loving someone …” She sighed again, leaning her head back against the sofa. “Loving someone doesn’t make them a good mother,” she continued. They both knew that firsthand, more than they should. “You make it look so easy. Being a parent, I mean.”

#scott: parent #char: scott summers

[jeaniegreysummers]

birds of a feather || Jean & Maddie

a playlist dedicated to two sisters (or one person in a two pack combo), separated by distinct phases of their life. merry christmas katey! @rxdqueens​

(art by bikenesmith)

a lost childhood || “pretty soon i’ll be getting on my first plane / i’ll see the veins of my city like they do in space”

- dorothea by taylor swift  - when you were young by the killers  - tennis court by lorde  - edge of seventeen by stevie nicks  - tiny riot by sam ryder  - good girls by 5 seconds of summer 

kindred spirits (all grown up) || “we are young, so let’s set the world on fire / we could burn brighter than the sun”

- you’re my best friend by queen  - you’ve got a friend in me by randy newman  - we are young by fun  - raise your glass by p!nk - wake up by arcade fire  - wake me up by avicii - fade away by oasis  - the phoenix by fall out boy  - breath of life by florence and the machine - never enough by loren allred 

the dark side || “if i only could, i’d make a deal with god / get him to swap our places”

- bird song by florence and the machine  - friends on the other side by keith david  - i’ll follow you into the dark by death cab by cutie  - running up that hill (a deal with god) by baroni and jb  - raise hell by dorothy - control by halsey - everybody wants to rule the world by lorde  - monster by caissie levy 

plus an extra little 616 easter egg at the end for spice

#beginagaingiftexchange #playlist

[jeaniegreysummers]

vengeancedemons​:

(✉️ ➡️ fire chick): yeah, my guy figures his mission ought to be my mission, too. can’t grab a coffee without him telling me i ought to set the barista on fire. (✉️ ➡️ fire chick): security measures don’t do shit when people are desperate. (✉️ ➡️ fire chick): enlighten me. (✉️ ➡️ fire chick): [UNSENT] you really gonna psychoanalyze me right now? (✉️ ➡️ fire chick): it’s just my idea of a good time. (✉️ ➡️ fire chick): yeah, i am an asshole. you’re not the first to say it.

(✉️ ➡️ fire head 🔥): Is it a justified fire setting, at least? Does the barista moonlight as a supervillain? (✉️ ➡️ fire head 🔥): Depends on the security. I used to play shield for a long time, and that can include a certain level of desperation too. (✉️ ➡️ fire head 🔥): Leather jackets. Cool car. Giant flaming skull head. A brand! (✉️ ➡️ fire head 🔥): That must be really lonely. (✉️ ➡️ fire head 🔥): Not buying it, sorry.

#robbie: loan #char: robbie reyes #texts