“I found him under the car, Connor. Curled up against the tire. I didn’t know what to do.” Oliver stands in the shadow of his front door like this isn’t his apartment, clutching a tiny ball of orange fur to his chest. “It’s freezing out there. We can’t just…” A tiny mew escapes the fluff in Oliver’s hands and Oliver’s doe eyes widen impossibly further. “We can’t just abandon him.”
Connor crosses his arms and rolls his eyes. He’s already decided to say okay – like he ever really had a chance against that pleading face of Oliver’s – but he can’t let Oliver know it was so easy. He’d like to maintain a shred of his dignity.
The kitten mews again and Connor grits his teeth to keep from making a sound. Yeah, it’s cute. Really cute. Dangerously I’m going to be so spoiled and I know it cute. The kitten pokes its head out from between Oliver’s fingers, blinking blearily up at Connor with golden eyes.
“Please?” Oliver asks and all of Connor’s resolve breaks.
“Alright, fine,” he says with a sigh, faking exasperation. It dissolves when Oliver bursts into fully into the living room and kisses Connor. Between them, the kitten paws at his shirt.
Tag: to read
The Blondie and the Hot One
A/U
Enjoy! 🙂
“Okay, so you fall in love with the person of your dreams,” Magnus said, glancing up from his phone to examine Cat’s face, “but your country’s leader goes crazy and everyone goes into poverty and dies of… starvation? That’s a little extreme.”
“Press the button,” Cat said. Her fingers found her water glass and she raised it to her lips, without ever breaking eye contact.
“Are you kidding me?” Magnus laughed. “You’re going to send an entire country into chaos because you fall in love?”
Cat nodded, taking a sip.
“True love can overcome anything,” Cat said.
Alec has a motorcycle
I wrote something because I really like the fact that it’s canon that Alec’s into motorcycles … (I’m posting this again so I can link this one to my Malec master post instead of the other, longer post.) It all started with this.
Not edited.
Magnus had been prepared to be angry and grumpy and jealous. Despite his age there were simply moments when he wanted to be the ignorant teenager that kept complaining until he got what he wanted. In this case it was his boyfriend being back from the Institute on time for them to get their reservation at a fancy restaurant. It was their three-year-anniversary and Alec had obviously forgotten all about it.
Magnus grumbled as he walked around the Institute to get to the garden in the back. The very place where a certain shadowhunter liked to take out the motorbike he’d decided to repair. It wasn’t like Magnus was against Alec having a hobby even if it was a time consuming one sometimes. He was even beyond being jealous when that guy at the garage tried flirting with Alec. But the thing he wasn’t over yet, was that this stupid motorbike had obviously become more important to Alec than the dinner they had planned for their anniversary.
Ready to complain and be pissed for the rest of the evening Magnus rounded the last corner of the Institute and … halted in his tracks. Every word of anger leaving his mind, leaving his tongue.
Alec had found the bike at a garage sale and decided to take it with him to repair it. He’d always wanted his own motorbike, but had never really found the right one. (And damn had Magnus enjoyed watching him try out various bikes, but that wasn’t the point right now.)
Right now Alec was sitting on the ground next to the old motorbike polishing something as it seemed. He’d gotten himself a grey overall which he had tied around his waist at the moment because even with the orange light of the afterglow crawling across the horizon it was still very warm outside. The sleeveless shirt he usually wore was draped across his shoulder leaving his chest bare and painted with countless shades of orange and red. But that wasn’t even the thing that captured Magnus attention most though it was still a nice view. No, it was Alec’s face or more that soft little smile on his lips as he worked on … whatever it was that he did. He looked so calm and relaxed and only now did Magnus notice that it had been some time since he’d seen his boyfriend like that. In those past few weeks it had been more likely to see Alec tense and exhausted.
Magnus felt instantly bad for not realizing it sooner to do something about it. He suddenly understood why this project was always so important to Alec. It was because the shadowhunter needed his alone time, too, a little break from everything, his own little escape. It was like Magnus and his investigation of the White Book, the time he spend all alone in his study crouched over the book, almost drowning in his notes on new spells and potions.
They both needed their own little refugium. Magnus didn’t want to be angry anymore, he wasn’t angry anymore, no, he was simply head over heels in love.
Slowly he walked closer and noticed a little CD-player standing next to Alec on the other side, playing some slow song that Alec quietly sang along gently sawing to the rhythm. Also the oil smeared on his pale skin made it actually a bit challenging to discern if it was a rune or simply oil. When Magnus was close enough he kneeled down next to his boyfriend.
“Hey, sweety”, Magnus whispered and felt bad for startling him, but when Alec was working on the motorbike it was impossible not to startle him when you wanted to get his attention. Whatever he’d been polishing fell from his hands as Alec whirled around to look at Magnus, his blue eyes big and surprised.
“Oh, hey, Magnus. What are you do-” Suddenly realization took a hold of those blue eyes and pure panic flashed over Alec’s face. “Oh, no, did I – Angel, what time do we have? I completely forgot it, right? By the Angel, I am so damn sorry, Magnus.” He scrambled to his feet, dropping the shirt from his shoulder in the process. “Just-just let me clean up here and we-”
But Magnus had gotten to his feet as well and put his hands on Alec’s shoulders, drawing calming circles with his thumbs on warm skin. He was still taller than his boyfriend.
“It’s okay”, he said and smiled at Alec’s bewildered expression.
“But we-”, began the shadowhunter and he looked a bit like a lost puppy at the moment. Still smiling Magnus just shook his head.
“We’re already too late for the reservation, but-” An index finger placed in slightly chapped lips stopped any kind of protest. “We can still enjoy the evening together with you …” Magnus’ eyes traveling over Alec’s shoulder to the motorbike. “… explaining to me how this thing works and me …” Magnus’ gaze settled on Alec’s face again while his finger slowly traced the line of the shadowhunter’s jaw. “… helping you getting the dirt off afterwards. Deal?”
Alec bit his lower lip and smiled at Magnus. Then the smile grew into a smirk and Alec leaned forward to press a soft kiss against Magnus’ lips.
“You’re impossible”, he whispered.
Magnus chuckled. “I know”, he whispered back, on hand sliding around Alec’s neck as he moved in to deepen the kiss. “But that’s why you love me right?”
“Happy anniversary.” Alec’s arms went around Magnus waist carefully avoiding any contact between the warlock’s shirt and the oil-smeared fingers.
“Happy Anniversary.”
Coliver prompt ficlet: Deaf!Oliver. (Thank you Nonny! Hope you enjoy! xoxo)“So, he’s deaf, huh?” Asher says to Connor, shouting a little to be heard over the din of the bar. He scratches at the label on his beer bottle, watching as Oliver and Michaela navigate the crowd on their way over to the bar to get them all another round. “That must really – I mean – it’s hard, right? It’s gotta be hard. Like hard hard.”
When Connor merely quirks a brow and lifts his glass for a slow sip, Asher rushes on to explain.
“Like, don’t get me wrong, he’s amazing. Really. Just an amazing guy. Much too good for you.” Asher coughs and shifts in is chair; trying to at least find a comfortable way to sit while he digs himself out of the hole. “But like, talking and conversations and all that relationship shit. All that’s gotta be hard, right?”
Connor considers as he takes another sip of his drink. His eyes flick to Oliver and Michaela, now at the bar with both their heads bent over a drink menu. Even from across the way, he can see Oliver pull a face at some option then nudge Michaela lightly on the arm. Her attention is drawn to whatever drink Oliver is pointing at on the menu and she pulls a similar face before looking up. A beat passes between the pair of them – Connor imagines Oliver’s eyes are twinkling with mischief like they tend to – before they’re grinning wildly, nodding emphatically, and turning to flag down a bartender. Even from across the bar, Connor gets caught up in their shared amusement and grins.
Connor knows what Asher’s really asking and it’s not how Connor and Oliver communicate. Asher doesn’t want to hear about Connor and Oliver’s misadventures in writing everything down during the first few weeks or the thousands of texts they sent each other from across tables in restaurants or sitting next to each other on couches. He’s not looking for an explanation of their weird, bastardized mix of Connor’s broken sign language and Oliver’s superhuman lip reading skills that wouldn’t make sense to anyone else but helps them get through the day.
No, Asher doesn’t want to hear any of that. What Asher really wants to know is how does it work. How does it really work.
Are you taking HerLito prompts? Because I really love your writing and I just wanted to know how you imagined where and how they first met…
Hi, Love! Thank you so much!!!! *HUGS* You are so sweet!!
(And I am taking Herlito prompts, if anyone is interested….)So, this is one way I picture Lito and Hernando meeting….
Lito tries not to tug at his suit coat as rings his agent’s doorbell. He rolls his shoulders a little, trying to shake loose the sour mood he can feel settling right there between his shoulder blades.
This day was too much. Too long. Too hot. Too frustrating. Between being late to set and fighting with the director and spending an afternoon shooting stunts, this whole day was just a little too everything. And this, a dinner party at his agent’s home, is not at all how he wanted to end it.
“Lito!” his agent, Juliana, greets as opens the door, ushering him in and kissing him once on each cheek. “Welcome! How was your day?” She links her arm through his and pulls him with her down the hall where he can hear the mix of music and voices spilling out of her living room.
“Better now that I’m here with you,” Lito says with a charming grin. “When are you going to leave your silly husband and run away with me,” he teases, pressing a kiss to her temple, like he always does.
“You stop now.” She rolls her eyes at him, like she always does. Seeing the exhaustion in his eyes and the tension in his shoulders, she runs a soothing hand down his arm. “You’re a good friend, Lito. Thank you for coming.”
Malec Ficlet #016
Prompt: I don’t remember falling in love with you. I just remember holding you hand realizing how much it was going to hurt when I would have to let it go.
The feeling hit him completely unprepared. A for a solid minute, Magnus Bane, felt like he couldn’t breathe. It was any other moment, Alec…
help! okay not sure if you do but can you help me find a fic?? its from way back when and like Connor outs Aiden and Oliver is rlly pissed at him???
love helping you guys out! I think you’re probably talking about
I wore a mask that always smiled by bleepobleep (complete / 2804 / teen)
“You’re a dick. Get out.”
“You like my dick,” Connor says smugly, and then he realizes. “Wait, what?”
“You just told me you outed your ex to his fiance just for— for what, for fun? You’re an asshole. Don’t call me.” Oliver gets off the bed, folding his arms. He grabs his glasses and puts them on, giving Connor a expectant look when he doesn’t move.
Connor’s been kicked out of guys’ beds before, but it’s never quite felt like this. There’s a post-coital part of him that’s actually kind of turned on by Oliver’s determination, but it somehow only makes the numbing realization that Oliver doesn’t want him all the more real.
~Or, the aftermath of S1E03, and how Connor learns a few things from his peers.
“We could get married in New Orleans,” Oliver leans over to whisper-shout in Connor’s ear.
They are walking home from celebrating with their friends and Oliver is more than a little tipsy. He’s weaving a
littlea lot as they walk back to 303. He also keeps bumping his hip against Connor’s and giggling as he swings their linked hands back and forth between them. Connor’s tried to get Oliver to quiet down a little, at least now that they’re in their neighborhood, but he’s too happy himself to do much policing tonight. If there was ever a night for laughing and celebrating in the streets, this would be it.“Could you imagine?” Oliver slots his hip in next to Connor’s and leans over to rest his head on Connor’s shoulder as they walk. “Bourbon Street on Mardi Gras. The festival and beads and hundreds of drunks. And you and me in the middle of it all pledging to love each other until the end of time.”
Connor lifts an eyebrow. “That’d be one way to do it.”
“It would, wouldn’t it?”
Opaque
Summary: Part four of the color verse. The day after you sleep with your soulmate, you are able to see in color.
(Part one here. Part two here. Part three here.)
Author’s Note: Please don’t be discouraged by the small reference to Aiden/Connor at the beginning. I promise 99% of this chapter is Connor/Oliver. (Also, I am so, so sorry for how embarrassingly long this took to update.)Connor waits a few days before sending Oliver another
message. He doesn’t want to seem overly eager. Besides, he knows that sending a
message right away will only make Oliver more certain in his decision. When he
actually decides to write it, he finds himself at a surprising loss for words.“Michaela, I don’t know how to do this,” he finally says
after three hours of trying. He leans his head on the coffee table in their
living room and lets out a whine.
Oliver drags his feet up the stairs and down the hallway. Outside his apartment door, he digs his keys out of his pocket just to accidentally drop them. He wants to cry. What else could go wrong today? He sighs instead and sinks down to the ground to collect them. Standing up again takes all of his remaining strength.
It’s Friday, at least. Thank God for small miracles. Maybe he’ll order in. He certainly doesn’t feel like cooking.
Briefly, he wonders what Connor’s doing tonight, but he pushes that thought away. They might be boyfriends now, officially, but that didn’t mean Connor would just come over every time Oliver had a long day. It wouldn’t be fair to Connor, anyway. Oliver is probably the worst company right now.
Oliver slides the key in the door then stops. The knob turns without him unlocking it. Did he leave his door unlocked this morning? No, he’s sure he didn’t. He always double-checks.
The lights are on in his living room and kitchen. There’s a familiar briefcase by the door. And something is definitely burning.
“Connor?” Oliver calls as he walks inside. He leaves his own briefcase by Connor’s, then shuts the door behind him and locks it.
“Oh, shit,” says a familiar voice in the kitchen.
Oliver rounds the corner, and there stands Connor in a green apron – and only a green apron – with the words, “Kiss the Cook,” stitched across the front. In oven-mitt covered hands, he holds a burned… meatloaf, maybe? It’s charred on top.
“Surprise?” Connor says, a smile on his lips that looks more worried than happy.
Oliver can’t stop staring.
“I fucked this up, didn’t I?” Connor’s shoulders slump. His hands curl around toward the front of the pan, holding it closer to him.
“No.” Oliver takes a step forward.
“I was trying to be romantic.” Connor looks small now, naked in Oliver’s kitchen. No – their kitchen. They traded keys. Connor spent so much time here anyway, Oliver wanted this to feel like home for him. He never really thought Connor would actually use it.
Now that he has, though…
Could today be any more perfect?
“It is romantic,” Oliver says, smile blooming. “Connor, this is…”
Connor looks up, eyes bright with hope, smile returning.
“No one has ever done anything like this for me before. I don’t know how to thank you.”
Connor’s relief is palpable. His smile slides into that easy confident smirk, and he lifts a brow. “I can think of a few ways.”
Later, they order delivery, but not until Oliver has obeyed Connor’s apron and then seen him out of it.
lanablack 