THANK YOU! :D IIII might write, like, a ficlet, or a short thing, but I don’t know that I’d write anything superlong. The idea of manwhore!Alex does always pull me…
Run, Nicholas, RUN!
I have this headcanon where Alex calls Hank “Hanky-Pank” is that weird or—
And now so do I.
Title: you better run away, baby (before I put my spell on you)
Rating: PG-13 (language, sexual situations)
Warnings:: dubious use of telepathic control, but nothing too scary.
Word Count: just over 6,500
Summary: In his quest for a cure to his physical mutation, Hank gets more than he bargained for – and then some.
Author’s Note: Inspired by these two ‘love potion’ fic prompts. Not quite a love potion, but it’s what called out to me.
X-Men: First Class came out a year ago.
Yeah, def posting that HankAlex pheromone fic soon….
Title: Science Project
Fandom/Characters: XMFC; Hank McCoy, Alex Summers
Disclaimer: This sucks. I got a bit carried away. There is angst.
Summary: Hank and Alex are in high school. They are complete opposites and are forced to work on a science project together
Word Count: 1590
Author’s Note: Ugh, it’s 3 am. I should not be writing fan fics any time after midnight.
AHHH, THAT’S ME. Fantastic. And the wordcount is an anagram of 1950. Haa. V cute.
Alex Summers has a charmed life.
I’m bored and my husband’s asleep and it’s the 100th anniversary of the Titanic sinking so I’m listening to the soundtrack bc I didn’t go see the film in theaters yet so naturally I’m thinking of writing a HankAlex fic about it.
because that’s so normal, right guys?
instead of the ‘Men in Black’ fic.
instead of the ‘Moulin Rouge’ fic.
instead of the ‘Cardcaptor Sakura’ fic.
…………………………………………………………this is what my life has become.
*The person who gives the best prompt and/or writes the best fic for this photoset will get it reblogged on this account*
“So you’re saying that thing that attacked my lab… It was an extraterrestrial.”
“Yes,” Agent Ay nods.
The corners of his mouth perk the slightest bit. Over four years doing this job, he hasn’t heard any pedestrian use that word without pronouncing it wrong. Until Hank McCoy, that is.
Then again, Hank McCoy isn’t an ordinary pedestrian.
“Mr. McCoy -“
“Doctor,” the man corrects without missing a beat, like he’s been doing it for a while.
“Right, of course,” says Ay. “Dr. McCoy. There’s something you should -“
“It killed them,” Hank says. “My frie- My colleagues. That - That thing killed them.”
Agent Ay takes in the man’s disheveled appearance. The picture Zed showed him portrayed a much more together person. Tragically unhip, maybe, with well-combed hair, unfashionably thick glasses, and a flannel-and-sweater combo that aged him a good ten years. Now, the sweater discarded after getting stained with bug juice and the glasses lost somewhere in the melee, Hank looks something approximating his own age. Like a scared twenty-one year old. The way Ay looked the first time he saw an alien, back when he was still Alex. Back when there was still a Scott…
This may not be the best time for Hank to learn the truth, but if Ay’s going to protect him he has no choice.
“Listen, Hank,” Ay says, reaching across the greasy diner table to touch the man’s arm comfortingly. (And not because he’s been fixated on that freckle on Hank’s neck for the last ten minutes. Not at all.) “I know this is difficult. But we need to get you out of here. Back to MIB Headquarters. Your life is in serious danger.”
“But why?” Hank demands. “Why me? My research is innocuous. Why would these aliens, as you so call them, possibly want me?”
Taking a deep breath, Ay answers, “Because, Hank. You’re an alien, too.”
(I don’t know, something about Lucas Till in that suit, the whole thing just came to me. Maybe I’ll write more later, but I need to get ready for the Gotye concert or my husband will kill me.)
…where Hank is Christian and Alex is Satine.
I rediscovered my enjoyment of the musical and also of HankAlex slash and AU fics and can’t stop picturing them performing the “Elephant Love Medley” together.
I don’t know who else would be what else. And lord knows I don’t even have time to write something like this with the grandeur it deserves.
It’s just something to occupy my mind.
(But think about it. Sean as Toulouse. Raven as a girl who’s run away from her rich family to be a dancer. Charles as the well-to-do brother who comes to claim her, only to be distracted by the strapping male dancer, Erik.)
(And in the end should someone die?)
Alex looked at the picture on Hank’s bedside table. It was one of him sleeping.
“Hank, I know you have plenty of other pictures of us and of me. Why do you have this one on your table?”
“Because you look so adorable and peaceful. Plus, you’re not talking my ear off,” he said with a cheeky grin. “Anyway, it’s my favourite thing to look at when I wake up. I can see you sleeping next to me whether you’re in here or not.”
Alex looked at him through squinted eyes. “You’re a dork.”
“Yeah, but I’m you’re dork,” Hank said before giving Alex a small peck.