Hello everyone! Sorry for the late post. I got some questions about whether we were doing it this year, well here we are! Here are our prompts! All forms of media are welcome for the week (Ex: Fanfic, fanart, aesthetics, playlists, HCs, etc.), we're just happy to see people celebrate Grace and Christopher. This year we're going to try prompts instead of different forms of content like we did the last two (2022), (2023) years. Please tag your posts #gracetopherweek 2024 and or #gracetopherweek. Here are the prompts!

Day 1: Free Day

As an apology for not posting the prompts pretty late and not giving everyone a lot of time to prepare. Have an open first day to get started <3

(Feel free to use prompts during this day, though.)

Day 2: Christopher Lives

I think we all know he deserved better. This week we're pretending he and Grace lived happily ever after post CoT.

Day 3: Teaching/Learning

Doesn't necessarily have to be a skill of any kind, they could also just be learning different things from one another, whether it's general knowledge or character growth of some kind.

Day 4: Night ________

Sort of a fill in the blank prompt. Some examples: Night patrol, nightmare/night terror, night time, night out, etc.

Day 5: First

They didn't get enough moments together. Give them some classics! First dance, first kiss, first date, first "I love you". If you're a smut writer you know what I'm going to say. Be creative! Lots of relationships have firsts, including friendships, which gracetopher has a great foundation for (you could say they have chemistry). Have fun with this one!

Day 6: Grief

Doesn't have to be Christopher, just to clarify. This can be interpreted as a hurt/comfort prompt as well. Be as angsty or un-angsty(?) as you want. Have fun!

Day 7: New Beginnings

After Chain of Thorns, there's so much opportunity for these two. There are so many ways they could have had a future together. They're both obviously quite new to relationships too, so don't be afraid to make that part of this prompt too. Moving in together, making a discovery of some sort, creating their first invention, or even getting married, etc. are some examples for this prompt if you're confused. Have fun!

Day 5: First

@gracetopher-week

Read on Ao3

Since I already wrote in many fics the first meeting/”I love you”/kiss/time, I decided to go in a totally different and comedic direction.  Modern!AU where Christopher introduces for the first time his girlfriend Grace to the family, but the Six Nations is on and today's match is Wales vs England. 1032 words.

Grace was a bit nervous, but Christopher held her hand and kissed her on the cheek. 

“Don’t worry, my family will love you,” he said. 

She exhaled a shaky breath. 

She and Christopher had been dating for a few weeks, and now that they’d both finished the exams for their first semester of uni, they had decided it was time to meet his family. He talked about his family a lot, and she knew how close they were, and a little part of her couldn’t calm down the fear that they wouldn’t like her, despite Kit’s constant reassurances of the opposite. 

Christopher gave her a last kiss on the cheek and rang the doorbell. A few moments later, a woman opened the door. 

Grace stared at her: she was in her early forties, had black hair and blue eyes, and was wearing a Wales rugby jersey. 

The woman smiled and hugged her son as she said, “Kit, you came home just in time for the match.”

“Match?” he asked her, puzzled.

The woman let them in as she explained, “The Six Nations. It’s Wales versus England today.”

Christopher made a face that screamed he’d forgotten about it. It was entirely possible: they’d both been so immersed in their respective studies for their exams, neither of them had kept track of the sport events of the season or checked their social media. 

“She is Grace, my girlfriend,” he said, as if remembering why they’d gone to the Lightwoods’ in the first place.

The woman held out her hand to her. “It’s a pleasure meeting you, Grace. I’m Cecily, Christopher’s mother.”

“It’s a pleasure meeting you, Mrs. Lightwood,” Grace replied. 

Cecily waved her hand. “No need to be so formal, you can call me by name.”

Grace and Christopher were led inside, but Grace had barely taken five steps when Cecily addressed her with, “So, Grace, are you supporting Wales or England?”

Before she could reply, a man got in the room. He was obviously Christopher’s father: he looked like an older version of him, except that he had green eyes and didn’t wear glasses. He was wearing an England rugby jersey and handed Christopher an identical one saying, “Kit! Here’s yours.”

Christopher hugged him before saying, “Dad, she is Grace, my girlfriend.”

“Gabriel Lightwood, nice to meet you.”

As they shook hands, Grace saw Kit quickly taking off his shirt to wear the white one his father had just given him.

“You’re supporting England, right?” Gabriel asked her.  

Grace glanced at Christopher for help. What was she supposed to say?

Was she supposed to pick England, like the two men? Or Wales, like his mother?

“Kit! You’re back!”

A little boy wearing Wales’s red jersey, not older than eight years old and with wild black hair and green eyes, ran towards them, and hugged Christopher tight.

“Hey, Alex, how are you?”

His little brother smiled. “I’m great! The match is starting, come here!”

Alex dragged Kit over to the living room, and Grace took her chance to avoid giving a reply to that million-pound question. 

While Christopher’s parents discussed what crisps and drinks to bring into the living room, Grace walked inside to find two women sitting on the sofa.

One looked so similar to Cecily, Grace only guessed she had to be Christopher’s sister. She kept her hair short and wasn’t wearing any jersey: instead, she had a Guns N’ Roses t-shirt. The girl next to her was Indian, and by the way she was holding the other woman’s hand, Grace guessed they were partners. Most importantly, she wasn’t wearing a jersey either.

“Grace, this is my sister Anna and her girlfriend Ari. You met Alex already, but he was too rude to introduce himself.”

“I’m not rude!” the child yelled. “I was just excited.”

Grace chuckled as she shook his hand before doing the same with Anna and Ari’s.

“Did Mom and Dad ask you to choose who you’re supporting?” Anna asked.

“Yes, they did,” Grace answered, then pointed at the other woman’s clothes and added, “Who are you supporting?”

Anna shrugged. “I support good sportsmanship.”

“It’s a fancy way to say that she changes sides according to who’s winning,” Christopher cut in. 

“I don’t support anyone,” Ari intervened. “We don’t have rugby in India, and I don’t understand the rules.”

Christopher rolled his eyes as he sat next to his sister and gestured at Grace to do the same before addressing Ari. “You’ve been living in London since you were a child. You just pretend not to understand rugby because Mom and Dad won’t doubt your word.”

Ari laughed at that. “It may be,” she said with a wink.

“Please, Ari, support Wales this time!” Alex exclaimed as he sat on the arm of the sofa next to the woman.

“I will see how the match goes.”

Grace felt a little twinge of envy looking at them. She’d never had a loving family, and she was a bit jealous of the ease with which Christopher, Anna, Ari and Alex talked to each other. 

But also…

Neutrality was an option.

When Cecily arrived, a few moments later, all the Lightwood siblings and Ari were lost in their talks about statistics, points and players, and so Grace got up to help Cecily put the soda and the packets of crisps on the coffee table. 

“Thanks, Grace.”

“No worries. Anyway, as for who I’m supporting, my family has never been into rugby and I wouldn’t know who to pick.”

Cecily just smiled at that answer. “Don’t worry, you’ll see that Wales is the best team when we crush England, and you’ll know who to support next time.”

“I love your confidence,” Gabriel Lightwood intervened, bringing more crisps and some bottles of beer on the table. “But you must know we are going to win.”

It turned into a full-on fight that involved the whole family. It wasn’t serious, but both the parents started listing the respective nation’s victories to each other, with their children chiming in and adding spice to the argument. 

Grace stayed out of it, but as the conversation unfolded, she smiled. 

@gracetopher-week Day 5: First

Grace and Christopher have their first date at the theatre. Words: 881

We'll be back! Same time next year with hopefully less delays. We'll keep our 2024 Post right here though for easy access in case anyone would like to see the prompts again or is still working on their content. Happy Gracetopher Week!!

Day 1: Free day

@gracetopher-week

Read on Ao3

AU where not only professional volleyball is co-ed, but also in the UK is as popular as football and rugby.  It's heavily inspired by The Sunshine Court. 1328 words.

Christopher’s car stopped in front of the sports hall, and for the first time, Grace saw the place where she would play for the next three seasons: the home of the London Lions. 

She followed Christopher as he opened the door with a set of keys, and they walked through the halls, where she glanced at the posters of various former players.

Grace knew the Lightwoods had basically built up the team from nothing, but nevertheless, she was impressed by the pictures of Gideon and Gabriel Lightwood, their statistics from twenty years ago shown below their smiling faces, and by Cecily Lightwood’s (or Cecily Herondale, seeing as she was still unmarried back then), whose record of scored points and aces was still unbeaten. 

In more recent years, Christopher, his sister Anna, and his cousin Thomas had been the new Lightwoods in the team; Grace knew that Christopher’s older cousins, Barbara and Eugenia, despite not playing the game, were deeply involved in the administrative part of the Lions.

(Grace was sure that one of the two sisters had written the contract she’d signed in a haste the day before).

“Do you want to see the pitch or the changing room first?”

Christopher’s voice brought her back to reality.

“The pitch,” she said, unflinching. 

He guided her through the corridors, and Grace held her breath as they walked to the pitch: it was the same brownish color of her old team’s floor, but at the center, split in two symmetrical halves by the net, there was the white roaring lion, the symbol of her new team. 

A sensation she couldn’t describe rose in Grace’s chest: Tatiana had made her hate the sport she used to enjoy, especially since it had kept her away from her adoptive mother—until that, too, had become a way for Tatiana to torment her with the excuse of pushing her to do her best. 

In a flash, she saw all the times Tatiana had beaten her because she hadn’t been fast enough, or hadn’t jumped high enough, or her spikes hadn’t been as strong or as precise as required.

“Are you okay?” Christopher asked her.

Grace blinked a couple of times and met his concerned gaze. “Yes, don’t worry.”

She’d met him not even twenty-four hours earlier, but Christopher seemed to read her clearly, as though he’d known her all her life. 

A few weeks ago, Grace had decided she’d had enough of Tatiana’s abuses and, being nineteen, had been free to sign with a professional team without her mother’s authorization.

She’d been following the London Lions for a few years, initially because Tatiana hated the guts out of her brothers’ team and Grace had been curious to find out why, but then because she’d become addicted to their game and she’d turned into a fan before she could even realize it.

So she’d had no qualms into sending an email to Cecily Lightwood, the CEO of the team, where she’d attached her statistics from all her university team championships (and some YouTube videos of her most spectacular actions) and asked if she could sign with the Lions for the next season.

(Grace had realized later that she’d been incredibly bold and entitled, but she had been desperate and maybe a little bit drunk when she’d drafted the email).

To her surprise, instead, three days later, she’d received an email from the administrative team with the contract for three seasons, without even asking her for a tryout. 

Grace had signed it and sent it back as quickly as possible, but somehow, Tatiana had found out and had kicked her out of her house. Grace had only been carrying her phone, her driving license and some pocket money, and she’d bought a train ticket for London and sent another email to Cecily Lightwood explaining her situation. Soon after, while sitting on the train that would take her away from Leeds, she’d received a text from an unknown number.

This is Anna Lightwood, the Lions’ captain. My brother has a spare room in his apartment, you can stay there until you find your own place. 

Grace hadn’t had the time to reply with her thanks that she’d received another text.

He’s picking you up from the station.

And there he’d been, waiting for her out of King’s Cross sitting on the boot of his car while talking on the phone, and he was the most handsome man she’d ever seen.

Of course, Grace had seen Christopher Lightwood on television, when she’d streamed the games on her iPad, sometimes in post-match interviews, but seeing him in person was totally different. He looked handsome in a way that cameras couldn’t really capture, and he’d introduced himself with a warm smile before inviting her into his car and his apartment. 

Grace had noticed that he was careful not to ask her why she’d come to London one month before the season started or why she had nowhere to go; he’d just explained to her that Thomas, his cousin, had just moved to Istanbul to play in Turkey for the upcoming championship, but he’d seemed to understand that something was off with her. 

He hadn’t pushed, though, and when she’d told him over breakfast that she wanted to see the sports hall, he’d accepted without qualms.

“You look pale,” Christopher said now. “There’s a vending machine next to the locker room—take some water and a snack.”

Grace, not trusting her own voice, just nodded and followed him. It was weird to have someone worrying over her, but in a way, that simple gesture warmed her heart.

She didn’t need either water or snacks, though, and when she saw the door that led to the lockers, she asked, “Can I see the locker room first?”

Christopher seemed a bit surprised by her request, but said, “Of course.”

He let her in, and Grace found herself in the room with benches, lockers and gear hanging in front of each one of the latter. 

The home jersey was golden, with numbers, logo and other details rendered in white. No, not white, Grace realized as she got closer to Christopher’s jersey, which had his last name and a 21 printed on the back: the details were of a very light silver that the camera couldn’t catch, which made it look white.

“Barbara told me you haven’t picked up a number yet,” Christopher said. “If you want, you can tell me now.”

Grace glanced at the other Lightwood jersey, the one belonging to Anna, with the number 10.

She knew that the Lions gave the numbers between nine and twelve to their strongest players, but Grace didn’t have the audacity to ask for those. 

“Which numbers are available?”

“Well…” Christopher seemed to think about it for a moment. “There’s one…”

If you’re not the number one you’re a failed athlete.

Tatiana’s voice made her flinch.

“No, not the number one.”

She stared at Christopher and thought he looked incredibly cute when he was focused. In an interview, he’d said why he hadn’t taken either twelve or eleven—back when Thomas was still in the team, he’d been nine—and he’d explained that he wanted to have his own number and not the ones people expected him to pick, and he’d chosen twenty-one because it was his father’s number reversed. 

Grace had liked his way of seeing numbers and their meaning, and who could advise her best?

“What do you suggest?” she asked him in an impulse. “Any lucky number?”

Christopher mulled it over for a while. “My parents say that five is their special number, but I don’t know if you’d like it.”

God only knew that she needed good luck, and, despite knowing him for less than a day, Grace liked the idea of having something connecting her to Christopher.

When she closed her eyes and imagined the Lions’ jersey with the name Blackthorn printed above a big 5, Grace couldn’t help but smile.

Day 3: Teaching/Learning

@gracetopher-week

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It's a Modern!AU where Kit asks Grace to teach him something. I’m sorry, my bugged brain thought it was funny. 471 words.

Christopher breathed deeply to calm his nerves. He’d asked Grace to help him with this thing, and his girlfriend had accepted.

Sometimes, he thought he shouldn’t have waited so long, but he hadn’t wanted distractions through secondary school and university, and not even during his PhD. 

And now, at twenty-six, Christopher had no experience on the matter and felt incredibly nervous. 

Everyone he knew had done it at seventeen or eighteen, and he didn’t want to feel that nagging sensation of being behind his peers anymore.

“Don’t worry, it’s fine to mess up the first time,” Grace said. 

That didn’t help. She, unlike him, had started as soon as she was of age, and now she had a lot of experience he lacked.

“When did you do it for the first time?” Grace thought about it for a moment. “I think I was in Paris with Tatiana. But you know, it’s the other way around in France.”

Oh, fantastic. Grace had so much more experience than he thought.

“Yes, I know.”

Christopher focused his gaze in front of him to steel his nerves.

Almost everyone did it, and no one had that many problems.

In his mind, he repeated the theory he’d learnt in his book. He’d done the test just a few days ago: why, then, did he feel like he’d forgotten most of it?

“It’s something you get more with practice,” Grace said, guessing his thoughts at first glance as usual.

“Yes, I know. I’m just nervous.” She kissed him, and when they parted, she looked him straight in the eye. She, Grace, his girlfriend, would be the one teaching him, and that thought calmed him much more than he’d thought possible.

“I understand. I’m honored to be the first one showing you how it works.”

Christopher took a deep breath and grabbed the stick firmly, but he froze immediately. 

He felt Grace’s hand on his as she gently guided his movement.

“Are you ready to start?” Christopher nodded. He couldn’t back down now: he had to do it. 

“You have to go all in, all the way,” Grace told him. “And after that, you have to move very slowly and be very delicate.” She touched his face so he turned towards her. “And don’t worry if you can’t, it’s normal if you fail the first time.”

Slow and delicate, Christopher repeated to himself as he followed Grace’s instructions.

Slow and delicate, slow and delicate, slow and delicate…

There was a bang, and the car suddenly stopped as the engine went off.

Disappointed, Christopher lowered his forehead to the steering wheel. 

“I’m never getting my driving license.”

Grace kissed his cheek. 

Day 7: New beginnings

@gracetopher-week

Read on Ao3

Some of my friends (and some anons too) have the headcanon that, if Christopher had lived, he and Grace would have moved to New York, and that’s why there’s a portrait of Gabriel there in TMI.  1197 words

There wasn’t a day Grace was not thankful for the invention of the Portal. She couldn’t have survived the trip across the Atlantic at six months pregnant.

Christopher helped her get upstairs, where they met the head of the Institute, Mr. Mongerstern. 

“Thanks for accepting to take over this Institute,” the old man said after the due introductions had been made. “I know that New York is on the other side of the ocean with respect to London, but Charlotte Fairchild wrote such a good reference letter for you.”

“Don’t worry, we needed a fresh start,” Christopher said, and Raziel knew it was true. 

Despite saving the world together, the Merry Thieves’ friendship hadn’t survived the battle against Belial. The choices everyone had taken, especially regarding their life companions, had pushed them apart. 

Living in London had become uncomfortable and full of tension, despite the former friends all being in the city only for Christmas and birthdays, and as soon as  it came up in Clave meetings that Mr. Morgenstern had claimed to be too old to keep managing the New York Institute, Christopher and Grace had seen it as an incomparable opportunity.

Charlotte Fairchild had written them a cover letter, and in just three months, they’d received the confirmation form Mr. Morgenstern that they were chosen to overtake his role.

It had been amazing timing, since Grace had found out she was pregnant by then, and raising their child far away from London and all the drama would be perfect.

Mr. Morgenstern guided them through the halls, showing their office and the bedroom assigned to them.

“I have to take care of the last few documents now. I guess that the time difference is unsettling even when traveling by Portal; take some time to settle in and rest. I will announce you as the new Head of the Institute at dinner.”

“Thank you very much, Mr. Morgenstern,” Christopher said.

As soon as the old man disappeared out the door, Grace closed it behind her back and let her husband kiss her squarely on the mouth. 

“Do you like it here?” he asked her.

His violet eyes were shining, and she could tell that he loved New York already. 

“Yes,” she replied, caressing the spot where their baby had just kicked her from the inside. “I think it’s the best place to raise Isidore.”

Since the Silent Brothers had confirmed they were expecting a boy, they’d chosen the name Isidore together.

Christopher put a hand on her belly to feel the baby’s movements, one thing he loved doing. 

If Grace hadn’t been already sure that he would be an amazing father, seeing how he was taking care of her during her pregnancy was the confirmation she needed.

“Mom and Dad will move here for a few weeks when the baby is born to help us.”

Grace smiled. Marrying Christopher hadn’t only given her an amazing husband, but had also made her part of a wonderful family. 

“I thought so. I remember they moved to Mumbai for three months when your sister and Ari adopted Rajiv and Oliver.”

Four years ago, only one year after the battle against Belial, Christopher’s family had grown thanks to the adoption of two baby boys, both orphans, respectively from the Mumbai and Cornwall Institutes. By some weird coincidence, both her nephews (Grace would never get tired of referring as such to Anna and Ari’s children) shared the same birthday, and the family had started referring to them as the twins. 

“Speaking of them—Anna says that the twins are impatient to finally meet their cousin,” Christopher said, kissing her bump. “And Alex is over the moon at the idea of having another nephew to play with.”

Alex Lightwood was so close in age to the twins, he was more like an older brother to them than an uncle, and Grace was sure he’d be the same with Isidore, too. 

“I’m happy that the boys are looking forward to meeting our baby,” she said with a smile.

Grace chuckled as Kit kissed her neck and held her close to him. 

“You can tell Anna that she, Ari and the twins can come here anytime,” she said against his shoulder. “After we settle down, we could show them around New York.”

“I don’t think they’ll leave Mumbai anytime soon,” Christopher replied. 

She looked at him, questioning, and he said, “Sorry, I forgot to tell you with our moving and Isidore on the way. Anna and Ari are adopting a one-year-old girl, so they want to adjust to the new addition to the family before traveling again.”

The news filled her with happiness. Their family was growing, and Isidore would have a cousin close to his age to grow up with.

“That’s fantastic news! I’ll write my congratulations to Anna tomorrow,” Grace said sincerely. “Do you know the girl’s name?” “Shaila.”

“It’s a lovely name.”

Christopher agreed with a hum. “Do you want to take a walk? It’s almost six.”

Grace checked the clock in her room, which showed that it was ten to six. With so little time before dinner, it was pointless to just lay down and rest. 

“Yes, we can take a look around by ourselves.”

Christopher offered her his arm and kissed her on the temple, and they strolled through the halls as they talked.

“If we were having a girl, what would you call her?” she asked him.

Christopher didn’t hesitate a moment. “Marie, like Mrs. Curie.”

Grace leaned over to kiss him on the cheek. “I wholeheartedly agree. It would be my choice too.”

Christopher smiled. “I know. After two years of marriage and five together, I learned a thing or two about you.”

Grace laughed, thinking that him being attentive and careful of her feelings was the main reason why she’d fallen in love with him.

They kept talking about their plans for tomorrow, what to see of New York first, mapping a route that wouldn’t tire her too much, when Christopher suddenly stopped dead in his tracks.

“Why did you stop?”

Christopher was staring at the empty wall. 

“Don’t you think that here”—Christopher gestured in front of him—“it would be perfect to hang Dad’s portrait?”

Grace couldn’t stop herself: she laughed. “Why would we put Gabriel’s portrait here?”

Christopher was almost as serious as when he talked about science. Almost.

“To confuse our descendants. Of course, Isidore would know it’s his grandfather, but after a few generations the knowledge will be lost, and in one hundred years, all the Shadowhunters of New York who come here will wonder who this man is.”

Grace kissed him between bouts of laughter. “You have a very convoluted sense of humor, but that’s also why I love you.”

Christopher grabbed her by the hips and got closer to her. “I love you.”

His lips landed on hers, and Grace thought it was heaven.

A new city in a different continent, a niece in addition to the two nephews they already had, their own baby in a few months…