byemonsters:

Here’s a little something I wrote. It may be a bit out of character, but I don’t give a shit

Connor takes a deep breath, looking at Oliver. He had just basically said he loved him. He felt shocked, but also some relief. With a mixture of happiness, along with a dash of awe. A smile forms at the corner of his mouths and he takes a step towards the other. The older man just blinks, wondering what was to happen next.

“Fine, then let’s take things slow” Connor finally says, a hint of softness in his voice. “Why don’t we sit down and talk? Maybe have something to eat. Sound good?” He asks and Oliver nods, a smile now forming on his face. He wipes his eyes and the law- student let’s out a small sigh.  

They both head for the bedroom, knowing it would be best. It would be the easiest and they could be closer this way. That’s what they do as soon as they reach the bed. Get comfy. Connor sits down and gently pulls Oliver down, wrapping his arms around him. The other takes his hands and puts them on his partner’s hips. They lay down and both take a deep breath. A sigh of relief. Step one.

Then Connor buries his face in the other’s shoulder, taking in his scent. His cologne was so nice. It was almost intoxicating to the other. He remembered the one time before when he had borrowed the other’s shirt and couldn’t stop sniffing it. He smelt so good. Suddenly gentle hands begin to run through his hair and he feels as though he could drift off to sleep, but he couldn’t. They needed to talk. Step two.

“Oliver, I’m sorry.” He says softly, looking up at him. “I know you’re mad and super upset. You have every right to be, but what we have now. /This/,” He meant how close they were “Is so much better than fighting. Now, I get that you are going to be hurt by it still at times, but that’s okay. Let it out. Yell at me, tell me who’s boss, just…. don’t leave me or kick me out again.” Another breath. “Please?”

Oliver nods and kisses his hair gently “Connor, I do care about you so much and yes, I am a little upset by it, but I won’t ever throw you out. Well unless you cheat on me again…”

The younger man shakes his head “No, never again. I swear.”

The smile that Oliver gives to him couldn’t be brighter than the sun. Connor grins and leans up a bit, placing a gentle kiss on the other’s lips. “I love you, Oliver, and I meant it.”

He gets a kiss in return and a nod. “I love you too, Connor. Now let’s go to bed. We both need the sleep.”

ramblesandreblogs:

A 1×11 Coliver coda-ish thing

Connor can’t even manage to stay on his side of the couch for an hour – not that he really tried. Oliver imagines Connor thought he was being subtle about moving closer as the movie played. Reaching to grab a blanket gained him a few inches. Leaning over to get a handful of popcorn gave him a smidge more. Shifting to find a more comfortable position drew him closer still. Until, eventually, a throw pillow tucked under Oliver’s elbow is all the space between them. Throughout Connor’s campaign, Oliver doesn’t say a word – not even when he comes back in from grabbing the popcorn and drinks and to see Connor inching over to his side of the couch – he just watches and rolls his eyes. What are you doing?

Nestling deeper into the couch, Oliver only half listens to the movie, as it plays on; too intent to listen to Connor’s breath in his ear. It deepens and lengthens until Oliver risks a glance to verify that Connor’s fallen asleep. His head is lolling on one shoulder and the angle looks like it’s going to give him a crick in his neck when he wakes. But Oliver doesn’t shift to nudge his shoulder under Connor’s head to alleviate the angle. That would be a step too far. This entire night has been a step too far. What are you doing here?

Once he’s good and sure Connor’s under, Oliver lets his hand fall from his knee to rest on the cushion between their bodies. With a quick peek just to double check, Oliver moves his hand to lightly cover Connor’s on the cushion. Slowly, ready to snatch his hand back at any moment, Oliver gently rubs a circle on the back of Connor’s hand and with the other, he picks the hat up off the coffee table to hold it in his lap. He traces one of the stitches with a finger and smiles. All the things Connor could have purchased for him and instead Connor gives him this beautiful, monstrosity of a hat made by his own grandmother. Jokes about re-gifting aside, Oliver can’t think of Christmas present he’s ever cherished more. What have you done to me?  

Eventually, the credits roll and Oliver quickly stands. He could gently wake Connor but decides in the moment against it. He’s allowed too much tonight already. Oliver’s sure to gather the bowl and glasses none too quietly and coughs loudly as he walks away to wake Connor. Hearing Connor stir as he places the dishes in the sink, Oliver’s nervous again. Without the pretense of the movie, he isn’t sure what to do with Connor in his apartment. He wants him to stay but needs him to leave. He’s not entirely sure what he’s going to say when he turns to see Connor by the door, slipping on his coat.

Connor stills as he wraps a scarf around his neck and swallows. “I just—I just figured you had to work tomorrow and it’s late and everything.”

“No—yeah—I—” Oliver stops himself from rambling and takes a breath. “That’s fine. It’s good. I’ve got work and you’ve got class. So, yeah—” Oliver trails off.

Connor opens his mouth once but closes and then tries again. “I liked the movie.”

“And you only mocked it a little,” Oliver teases.

“Well, come on. Sometimes it was just right there.” They smile at each other. Connor cautiously asks, “Wasn’t it a mini-series or something?”

Oliver nods. Then, carefully, “I was planning on watching the second part tomorrow. If—if you want?”

“Yeah,” Connor answers quickly then coughs to cover his mortification. That may have been too excited. “Yeah. That’d be great. I’ll grab dinner?”

“Perfect. It’s a—” Date. “Plan.”

“Okay. Great.” Connor says and they’re back to standing there, staring at each other. “Okay. I’m heading out,” he says and heads for the door.

Oliver sees him off with a “Drive safe” and wave. Then he leans back against the closed door and curses himself. Dinner and a movie again tomorrow night. Two nights in a row. What is he, insane? You would think he learned his lesson by now. Tonight was dangerous enough but more time with Connor in his apartment. Breaking his resolve with grins and hats and fleeting domesticity. This has to stop. He has to stop it. What are you doing to yourself?

ramblesandreblogs:

Random Coliver hs!au –

Connor is really good at math. Like really really good. Like he tested out of AP Calc as a junior so his math class junior year was just him and Mrs. Rozaldo good. Then Dad gets transferred in the middle of the year. Meaning new town. New school. New math class.

He walks into math the first day, looks around to see thirty pairs of eyes staring back at him, and feels his palms start to sweat. Mr. Behl introduces him to the class and tells him to take a seat. The lecture is something he and Mrs. Rozaldo have already worked on but he figures he should at least fake like he’s paying attention. It is the first day after all. The notes he scribbled in his notebook are mostly gibberish but he figures it at least looked like he was paying attention.

Mr. Behl lets everyone work on the homework assignment during the last half of the class and calls Connor over to his desk. His new teacher explains some of the basic classroom policies and starts to give a little overview on what they’ve already learned and what’s coming up. Connor is about to interrupt and explain, as modestly as possible, that he’s already learned most of the stuff in this class when Mr. Behl continues.

“I know it’s a lot. Coming in in the middle is tricky. Don’t hesitate to ask for tutoring. In fact—” The teacher leans over to call around Connor. “Mr. Hampton? Can you come here for a moment?” The guy heading over is all elbows and feet that he hasn’t grown into yet. Black-framed glasses are slipping down his nose and his hair looks like it was styled when he left the house this morning but a day of running his fingers through it have left it mussed and more than a little wild. The guy smiles wide as a girl Connor assumes is a friend scoots her chair so he can squeeze by and Connor thinks that this Mr. Hampton guy may be the hottest guy he’s ever seen.

“Connor. This is Oliver,” Mr. Behl introduces. They shake hands and mutter “Hi” to each other before Oliver looks away and runs a hand through his hair. This smile is soft and shy and Connor finds it adorable. “Mr. Hampton here is one of our tutors. I’m sure he’d be happy to help you catch up. Oh, excuse me.” Mr. Behl heads off to answer a waving hand, leaving the two students staring at each other.

“Um,” Oliver starts. “Do you want to move your stuff over?” Oliver gesturers over towards his desk. “There’s an empty desk next to me. We could start on the assignment.” Oliver looks over to Connor and his eyes are kind. He’s smiling again and Connor wants to see Oliver smiling like that all the time.

“Yeah. Thanks. That’d be great. I’m really lost.”

alexandermylovewritesfanfic:

When Magnus walked through the front door of his loft after his last meeting of the day with one of his clients, his heart almost stopped.

His living room was more or less in order, a few books lying around here and there, a stray cup or two on the coffee table, and his Shadowhunter boyfriend lying unconscious on the floor.

As far as Magnus had known, Alec had simply gone on an afternoon patrol so there couldn’t have been that much excitement. Plus, the young boy didn’t show any signs of bleeding and if he had been injured surely someone from the New York institute would have contacted him.

Right?

So with these things in mind, Magnus tried to calm his breathing and his heart as he approached his boyfriend.

Upon closer examination, he discovered that the boy was in fact still breathing which made Magnus exhale a deep breath that he didnt even know he was holding.

He crouched down and he saw that the boy looked fine.

He had a bit of dried ichor on his gear and dirt smudged on his cheek but fine nonetheless.

So there was just the simple question of ‘why was he on the floor?’

“Alec, darling-”

The boy didn’t respond at first but after Magnus gently shook his shoulder, he let out a small sleepy sounding groan.

“What are you doing on the floor, love?” Magnus was finally able to ask.

“I just wanted to lie down for a moment,” Alec’s sentence was cut off by his yawn, “But I guess I fell asleep.”

It was starting to make sense now.

Alec had been doing an incessant amount of training and patrolling, both of which involved getting up early and staying out late, so the warlock understood why the boy had finally crashed.  

The poor thing could barely even stay awake for the conversation. His eyes were half lidded and it looked like he was struggling to keep them open.

Magnus decided to take pity on him-because sleeping on the floor was probably far from comfortable- and leaned down further so that he could take the boy into his arms.

He tried to stand up as gently as he could as to not disturb Alec, who was losing his battle with sleep very quickly, but no matter how gentle he tried to be, the Shadowhunter was still startled when Magnus started to walk.

“Magnus-” He breathed out against the warlock’s neck.

“Yes, sweet pea?”

“What are you doing?”

“Taking you to a bed.”

“I do have legs, you know.”

“Yes, I do know. Thank you for stating the obvious, darling.”

He knew that Alec would have rolled his eyes if he wasn’t so tired. “I meant that I could have walked-”

“I know that you are capable but you seemed to have no desire to, so I took matters into my own hands.”

“Quite literally.” The boy mumbled against his skin when they got into the bedroom.

Magnus smirked for a second before closing his eyes and muttering a quick spell under his breath, succeeding in magicking away Alec’s dirty gear and replacing it with a clean set of clothes.

He set the younger boy down on the bed and covered him with a blanket.

Despite all of the fuss that he had put up earlier, his boyfriend still graced him with a ‘thank you’ after he yawned again.

Magnus smiled at the adorable sight in front of him, leaned down to brush some midnight dark strands away from a pale forehead, and placed a quick kiss to the exposed skin.

“Sweet dreams, Alexander.”

youre-my-first-so-many-things:

Okay so this is a little drabble I wrote as I struggle to get my muse back in working order.  Alec realizes he’s in love, despite not believing it exists.  

Alec shut his book with a snap and an irritated sigh. His adopted brother Jace looked up from his doodling on the margins of the essay he was meant to be writing on ancient weaponry for Hodge with a puzzled gaze on his golden features. They had known each other long enough that Jace was surprised when he couldn’t read the look on the older shadowhunter’s face. Alec was well beyond the days of learning in the classroom and spent long days training and gaining runes by the day.

“What’s up? You act like you’re studying Latin or something equally as complicated.” Alec sighed again as he studied his pale hands resting on top of the worn book.

“It’s just, all these books about wars and such, some of them mention going to war over love of all things. I just don’t get how you could feel that much for someone that you would destroy a country. I mean can’t they see it just wouldn’t be worth all of that?”

“You think you can learn about love from a book?” Jace only asked as he snorted. “Love is something girls dream up. I don’t think it actually exists. They just like to think one day they’re going to get all loopy about some guy that will dote on them hand and foot is all. Look at your parents for example, they’re nothing like that. I’ve never seen anyone in love so I don’t think it’s real.” Alec was quiet as he contemplated that love may not actually exist, at least not the kind in books. Jace might be right this time. His parents surely hadn’t found it after over ten years of being married….

Alexander lay staring at the ceiling in the loft of Magnus Bane playing a conversation he had had with Jace five years ago in the Institute library. He watched the fan spin lazily against the ceiling as the moon spilled through a small gap in the curtains made by Chairman. He really had to sleep since they were due to leave for Paris in only five hours except his head had the too full feeling he often got on the nights he went to find Izzy and talk about things. It was the feeling he had the night he had finally come out to his sister in order to just talk to someone about everything. The stranger part about all of it was that he didn’t want to talk to Izzy, he only wanted to talk to the man beside him.

He sat up suddenly and looked towards Magnus with his heart pounding in his throat. The warlock was sleeping and curled towards him, his face peaceful for the first time in at least a week. He shouldn’t even be freaking out about any of this. It was only natural that he’d want to talk to his boyfriend about things. Except it really wasn’t in the slightest natural.

Through everyone Alec had met, even as close as he had gotten to Jace, he’s always wanted the comfort of his sister by his side. The fact that he suddenly wanted to talk to Magnus was astounding and quite shocking. He had spoken to his sister on Magnus’s balcony more than once in whispered tones as he freaked out about one thing or another. She usually laughed at him and teased him about falling for the warlock. Alec hadn’t put much stock into it since he quite agreed with his brother than love didn’t exist. He knew you could feel fond of someone of course, after all he felt quite a lot for the High Warlock. He just didn’t believe in the head over heels hype that the media tried to get people to buy into. He never believed you could go to war over someone or go completely insane because someone dies that you care for. He always thought rationale would kick in before that point was even close to being reached

“Alec?” Magnus’s sleepy voice drifted up to him as the golden green eyes fluttered open and the warlock spotted him awake. “Darling, you should get some sleep. We have to leave in just a few hours. You alright?” Alec couldn’t speak with his heart in his throat so he simply looked down at Magnus speechless. Magnus frowned and sat up, the blankets falling to pool in his lap, and scooted closer so that their shoulders brushed.

“I’m in love with you.” Alec blurted out all at once and in a rush of air. He hadn’t meant to say it like that. He’d meant to think it over and contemplate if he really meant it or thought it even existed. He’d meant to say anything other than that as a matter of fact. Magnus made a sound as if he’d been punched in the gut as his eyes widened and their gazes locked. There was a long moment of silence before a slow grin spread across the warlock’s face and he gathered Alec in his arms. Alec breathed in the scent of him and nosed against his collar bone with the strange urge to cry. Warm hands trailed up and down his back as kisses were peppered on his neck. Alec felt the tears fall on the older man’s chest. “I’m so in love with you.” This time it was whispered almost reverently.

“I feel the same darling, completely.” Magnus whispered in return.

“No,” Alec said quietly. “You don’t understand, I never thought it existed.” Magnus snorted softly but didn’t move their positions.

“What, love? You never thought people fell in love?”

“Not this kind,” again it was only a whisper as Alec tried to process all of it. He kissed the skin under his lips gently. “I’m so glad I was wrong. I’m so glad this is real.” Magnus pulled back to simply gaze at him before climbing out of bed and extending a hand.

“What do you say we go on the balcony and watch the sun rise?” Alec smiled and followed him as he dragged the comforter behind them.

freakypumpkin:

You know those moments when you are kind of sick and tired and you know you should go to bed, but the hyperactive part of your brain comes up with the weirdest ideas? Yes, that’s the moment I always think ‘you should write that’, while the other, more reasonable part of my brain shouts ‘you should go to bed’.

And this is how it happened. No beta. Just my mediocre writing. 😀 Have fun!

-+-

When Magnus walked back into the living room with the two cups of coffee, he stopped in the doorway and took in the scene before him. Alec had agreed to temporarily take in the little warlock and while Magnus’ ego was still a bit bruised by his boyfriend’s disbelieving look when he’d told him that they had entrusted Magnus with taking care of the child, he was glad that they’d done it.

They had moved the furniture in the big living room of the loft to create a kind of island with colorful blankets and pillows where the child could walk and crawl around without getting lost between couches or armchairs. But right now, the kid wasn’t doing any of that. He just sat there in front of Alec and they shared what seemed to be a very intense eye contact. Well, it was intense on Alec’s part, the kid mostly seemed curious at what the weird uncle with the black attire would do next with the arrow. 

Wait, arrow?

Magnus squinted a bit, but Alec was indeed holding an arrow up in the air between himself and the child. Worried the warlock stepped a bit closer though none of the two seemed to notice him, but then Alec began to speak and Magnus stopped. He trusted his boyfriend around children after all. It was just that sometimes shadowhunters had a weird way of educating the next generation.

“So”, Alec began, his voice heavy with meaning and his blue eyes dead serious. “This is an arrow.” He held the weapon in front of the little warlocks face, always anxious to keep the pointy end pointed away from the child. “It is a weapon. It is dangerous and nothing you should play with, even if you might find one around the loft, okay?”

The child looked up at Alec with big round eyes. Alec seemed to take it as a ‘yes’.

“Okay, it’s also nothing to eat or chew on. You can hurt yourself with it or you can hurt others and that is bad, very bad.”

Curiously the child stretched out one hand in an attempt to touch that shiny, pointy end of the arrow, but Alec instantly intervened. He put the arrow out of the child’s reach, though that only lead to a very sad looking little warlock and Alec sighed. 

“Alright, you can touch it, but only with my help and never do it when you are alone. Though I promise to always keep my arrows locked away somewhere, so you won’t get in danger of hurting yourself.” He carefully took the small, blue-skinned hands and put them on the dark wood of the arrow’s shaft. “Here, you see, that’s how you touch an arrow”, Alec whispered. The kid smiled and the shadowhunter smiled back. 

Then the kid tried to chew on the shiny, pointy end of the arrow and the shadowhunter had to put his hand between little teeth and dangerously sharp metal. 

“No no, no eating arrows, they don’t taste good, okay?”, he asked patiently while the child seemed to take an interest in his hand. The arrow was suddenly forgotten and two little hands grabbed thin pale fingers. 

“Yeah, that’s better”, Alec muttered with a soft chuckle, “you can grab my hands and – ow, okay, you can chew on them, too. I always cut my fingernails short and I always wash my hands … unless it’s right after a demon hunt, then they are … you know – ow, no don’t worry, doesn’t hurt – just don’t put anything dirty ever in your mouth because that can hurt you as well, but in a different way than the arrow and …” Alec took a deep breath and gazed at the happily smiling child that gnawed at his hands from time to time. He smiled.

“I’ll teach you the difference some other day.”

Magnus didn’t know if he should cry, laugh or swoon.

-+-

🙂

ramblesandreblogs:

It is a truth universally acknowledged that Mondays suck.

This Monday being no exception because this was how this Monday goes for Connor Walsh:

Wake up late. Run out of hot water mid-shower. Miss the bus. Sprint two blocks to nearest subway stop and then miss that too. Waste time trying to get a cab to notice too late that you missed another bus. Finally catch a cab but step in a huge puddle getting out at your building. Spend the rest of the morning with wet socks while attempting to hide from your boss who you don’t think noticed you were 45 minutes late. Your boss finds you hiding from him in the break room and reams you out because he totally did notice you were late. Get down to the cafeteria for lunch just in time to watch someone walk off with the last chicken salad sandwich so you’re stuck with the mysterious tuna. Spend the rest of the afternoon doing data entry that is so simple an intern could (and should!) be doing it while fighting off food poisoning and trying to stay awake. Start packing up for the day only to have your boss pop his head in and ‘ask’ you to stay late to make up for this morning (even though it’s already an hour past when you normally leave because you did make up your time already) and you say “Sure thing boss!” with an exaggerated grin and a thumbs up – he is not amused. Get stuck at the office by yourself working on data entry until the night custodian accidentally turns the lights off on you and you say to yourself “Fuck it” and go home.

Walking into his apartment that night, Connor didn’t even bother taking off his shoes or shrugging off a coat before face-planting on his couch. Mondays SUCK!

A few minutes into his half-rest/half-nap on the couch before he gets up to put on pajamas and see if he has any food to go with the beers he’s planning on drinking, his phone starts to ring and he just lets it go to voicemail. Everything and everyone can wait.

The phone starts to ring right away again so he digs into his coat pocket with a touch of foreboding. Could it be his mom? Last he had heard everyone was doing well but at Grandfather’s age you never know…and false alarm. It’s just Michaela.

“What do you want?” he says as he shoves his face back into his throw pillow.

“Where are you?” Michaela says sounding distracted.

“I’m at home, Mic. Where are you?”

“I’m at the gym. Are you on your way here?” Connor sits up. Fuck. The gym. They were starting that stupid class tonight. Fuck. Why did he agree to do that on Monday nights? He can hear Michaela mumbling to herself and it sounds like she’s digging around in her bag for something. “Where is—ah! There it is. So are you a few minutes away or something?”

“Well actually Mic—”

“No. Connor. No. See. This is why I called.” Michaela holds the phone away from her ear to hand the gym attendant her ID and give a cheery “thank you” before she resumes scolding him as she heads to the locker rooms. “You promised Connor. Remember? January 1. We made a pact. This year we’d get healthier.”

“We also made a pact to get laid more this year. Can we focus on that tonight?”

“Sure. After class.” Michaela stops outside the locker rooms, respecting the ‘No Cell Phones’ sign. “You’ve got twenty minutes Walsh. Be here.”

“What if I’m late?” he asks even as he’s throwing off his coat and toeing off his shoes.

“Don’t be.” Is her ominous last line and she hangs up.

+

An hour and twenty minutes later, Connor is rethinking his whole friendship with Michaela. He did make it to class and hardly complained at all when the perky instructor with 0% body fat and a smile that never wavered made them lift and twist and kick and push and God knows what else during Intro to Bodypump (if that was Intro to Bodypump he would hate to see Intermediate Bodypump). Connor did his part and participated and now he’s done. He wants to go home and shower away this whole exhausting day. But Michaela’s not done. Michaela wants to run laps.

“Come on. Just a few. You used to run all the time in college,” she pleads.

“I used to be 22 in college. Things change.”

“The track isn’t even that long. Let’s do ten.”

“Three.”

“Five.”

“Fine,” Connor concedes. “I’m gonna grab a drink first.” He waves a hand in in recognition when she says she’s going to start stretching and walks over to the water fountain.

Taking a drink, Connor sits down on the small bench near to the fountain next to one of the guys from class. The guy nods by way of a greeting and Connor is more than a little pleased that the guy looks as wiped as he is. “Why is this class on Monday night?” Connor says.

The guy snorts a laugh. “Tell me about it.” After a moment of comfortable silence, the guy speaks up. “Who dragged you here?”

Connor points to Michaela across the way. “Friend of mine. You?”

“That beanpole over there who used to be my best friend.” The guy points to a lanky guy over by the free weights. “Now Wes wants us to lift.”

“Michaela wants me to run laps with her.” They share sympathetic looks. “What did we do to deserve such evil friends?”

“I don’t know. We’re good people.”

“We are good people.” Connor waits a beat, debating. “Plus—there are better ways to burn calories.”

The guy turns, sizing Connor up. “Much better ways.”

“Much much better.” A look passes between them and they both grin. “I’m Connor, by the way.”

“Oliver.”

+

Much later, Connor falls asleep, after their own workout private session, with his face pressed in Oliver’s neck and Oliver’s arm thrown over him. Feeling content and happy, Connor concedes that maybe he was wrong.

Maybe Monday’s aren’t so bad after all. 

ramblesandreblogs:

You and me both Nonny! Hope this works and thanks for the prompt. Enjoy! xoxo

Connor jolts awake in the middle of the night with the whistle of an axe cutting through the air and the chorus of Jingle Bells both echoing in his head. He curses himself as he slips out of bed to get some water, careful not to wake Oliver. He’s going to be waking Oliver many times over the upcoming nights, might as well let his husband sleep in peace while he can.

The nightmares are beginning again.

He had been doing so well, too. Seven months without a nightmare. Seven months! It was the longest he’d ever gone without an occurrence and Connor had actually started to believe that they were finally over this time. He should have known better. They’re never going to stop.

The next night is more of the same. The nightmares are always simple at the start, just the faint hum of the axe and that old familiar tune. His mind is warming up. Trying to remember the steps of a dance thought forgotten. Eventually the rest comes back though because, honestly, how could he possibly expect forget.

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