missmorgenstern:

I do not own any of the characters; they belong to Cassandra Clare.

This was a request from the wonderful and lovely mortalacademy🙂  This was so fun to write because I’ve never written anything like it before.  I hope you enjoy it:)

———————

“This really is rather pleasant.  What do you think, Alexander?” said Magnus, taking another lick of his strawberry icecream.  He had seen several young children biting into their own icecreams, and Magnus had cringed away from them as if they were a poisonous plant he’d found growing under the sink.  He didn’t trust anyone who could accomplish such an act and still have their teeth intact afterward.  “Alexander—?”

Magnus glanced up.  His boyfriend appeared to be having some difficulty identifying the various colours of icecream in the tubs.  Magnus caught the furious spark of rage in the stallkeeper’s eyes and moved to Alec’s side, almost protectively.  He didn’t doubt his own ability to shrink the keeper into a possum if need be.

“What is that stuff?” Alec was saying, indicating with a trembling finger the chocolate-chip mint icecream.  It was melting gradually in the heat, giving it an almost sloppy sheen.  “Is that—is that slime?”

The man behind the stall turned beat red. 

Magnus put a hand on Alec’s shoulder, gently.  “Alec, darling—“

But Alec turned to him, eyes wide and incredulous.  “No, Magnus, look!”  He jabbed a finger at the mint chocolate.  “It has rabbit feces in it!”  His blue eyes shot daggers at the stallkeeper.  “Are you trying to poison us?”

“I wasn’t,” said the man, hazel eyes blazing furiously.  “But I’m tempted.”  He inclined his head to Magnus.  “You the entertainer or something?  Clown Workshop’s over there.”  He pointed.

Magnus’s lips parted.  He glanced down.  He was wearing rainbow leather pants complete with pointed polished black shoes, a low turtle-neck navy top, and a white jacket that glistened with multi-coloured diamonds.  His hair stuck up in every which way, like a mace complete with glittering spikes.  Magnus couldn’t pick fault with his outfit or his hairstyle.  He often wondered if he was too awesome for the average mundane to take in.

Still, it hurt.

It was Alec who moved first.  Spinning with lightning-speed, he reached over and plucked the half-melted strawberry icecream from Magnus’s hand and shoved it into the man’s face, directly in the nose.  The man let out a yelp and then he staggered back as Alec, flipping over the stall, curled his hand into a fist and socked him in the face. 

The cornet cushioned the punch; it fell away to crumbs from the blow.  Nonetheless, the impact sent him staggering into the boxes of unopened icecream at the back of the gazebo.  The boxes tumbled down around him.  The man’s nose was streaming a steady trickle of blood, mixing with the strawberry icecream.

Magnus wrinkled his nose.  “I detest sauce on my icecream,” he muttered, to no one in particular.  Alec was staring down at his fist, which was smudged with icecream, in astonishment, as if he couldn’t quite believe what he had just done.  “Alec,” Magnus said, and then, when he didn’t reply, “Alec!”

Alec glanced up.

In the distance, beyond the rattle of the theme park and the screams of children, was the distorted croaking of voices coming through walkie-talkies.  Security.

Magnus seized Alec’s hand and quickly threw up a glamour around them.  They walked hand in hand out from under the cover of the gazebo, out into the blaring sun.

“Correct me if I’m wrong,” Magnus said, “but isn’t the mandate of Shadowhunters to protect mundanes, not physically harm them?”

“Mundanes,” Alec said.  “No one said anything about assholes.”

Magnus snorted.

 ———————————-

Being with Alec was pleasant.  It was lying back on a feather bed, said feather bed floating on water, and forgetting the issues of the universe.  It was a walk in the park, the sun beating down relentlessly, and that momentary rush of relief when a cool gust fractures the heat.  It was wild and fierce, consuming like wildfire, yet soft and hesitant. 

It was the kind of love that made Magnus, whenever he was in Alec’s presence, forget who he was.  He could do anything, be anything, with him, and Alec would remain by his side, never demanding—giving, never taking.

It made him feel alive.

Unfortunately, Magnus wasn’t feeling particularly thrilled now.  He craned his head and glanced up at the looming rollercoaster above him.  It was a massive, hulking thing, seeming elegant and bulky all at once.  It looked a bit like a child’s drawing of a rollercoaster; all squiggles and impossibly sharp twists.  The track itself was an ice blue, carrying rows of carriages of the same colour that looked a bit like oval-shaped cages.  Beneath the ride shimmered a crystal-blue lake, ice steam rising off its surface.  The entirety of the coaster was enclosed with ice-capped walls that jutted outward jaggedly, giving the impression of the side of a mountain. 

Magnus had never ridden a rollercoaster in his years. Hot air balloons, airplanes, and pickup trucks that floated on water he’d done.  Not rollercoasters.  There was something threateningly unpredictable about them.  He was ashamed to admit to himself that he was absolutely terrified, not to mention that he was exceptionally concerned for his hair. 

Alec, beside him, was bouncing excitedly on his feet.  “Can’t you just magic the mundies aside?”  He peered down the length of the snaking line.  His eyes glittered, impossibly bluer than usual.  “I can’t wait much longer—“

“Need to relieve yourself?” said Magnus, and laughed at Alec’s glare.  “Do it on the ride,” Magnus went on.  “I doubt anyone would notice.  The carriages are wet already and we’re glamoured besides.”

“Shut up,” Alec hissed.  He crossed his arms with a scowl.  “You already look as if you’ve relieved yourself.”  Magnus quirked an eyebrow.  Alec said, “You really shouldn’t have worn wet-look pants, Magnus.  They don’t do you any favours.”

“I don’t do favours for anyone.”  Magnus wiggled his fingers; his rings flashed.  “I’m expensive.”

“Yeah,” said Alec.  “I’ve heard that about you.”

“Alexander!”  Magnus was astounded.  “I thought we’d moved past that.”

Alec grinned suddenly.  The smile lit up his face, and Magnus’s throat went dry.  He was so beautiful, he was sometimes painful to look at.  Like staring directly at the sun.  “Got you,” he laughed.

Magnus seized the other boy by the waist and pulled him against his chest.  “You always have,” he whispered, and he bent his head as if to kiss him, but he never got the chance, because at that moment a carriage roared by over their heads, spraying them with water. 

Alec didn’t seem to care, but he did jerk back in surprise.  Magnus stared grimly after the carriage as it spun over a loop.  Seconds later Alec disentangled himself out of Magnus’s grasp and strode toward the mundane nearest him.  The boy was wearing a gray woollen hat; Alec plucked it off.  The boy made a noise of protest and started after the floating hat.

Alec threw the hat at Magnus as if it was a rugby ball and a stampede of rugby players was hard on his heels.  Magnus shoved on the hat, crushing his glittered spikes.  The boy came within touching distance of him, and he reached up, as if he were going to retrieve the hat from Magnus’s head—

And the boy jerked back with a choked “Ugh!”  He had touched one of Magnus’s spikes as he’d reached for his hat.  Magnus watched with dark amusement as the mundie boy staggered backward, tripping over his feet. 

Magnus shot a sideways smile at Alec, one that his boyfriend returned.

 ————————————-

Several people tried to catch at the runaway hat as it bobbed by, appearing to float on the breeze.  Once secured in the front seat of Infusion—the damned rollercoaster—Magnus clicked his fingers.  The lesbian couple striding excitedly toward the front seat froze, blinked, and turned abruptly.  They disappeared back through the entrance.

“You’re looking a little green.”  It was Alec, beside him.  He turned to peer worriedly into his boyfriend’s face.

How was it that someone who was raring to go on a 14-loop rollercoaster ride was terrified of umbrellas?

“I told that to Ragnor once,” said Magnus, trying for humour, though his heart wasn’t in it.  “He didn’t believe me.”

Alec laughed.  He was laughing a lot these days, Magnus had noted.  It made his heart swell with adoration—and then plummet as the carriage lurched forward.  Magnus’s head snapped back painfully.  He gripped the side of the carriage with one hand and Alec’s sleeve with the other.

“Alec, I don’t like this.  I think this was a bad idea.”

“It’s too late now,” said Alec, somewhat absently.  He was gazing about him like an excited child on Christmas.  The reflection of the turquoise-coloured lake rippled in his eyes.  “Do you want me to hold your hand?”

“No,” said Magnus.  The carriage turned slowly.  The track before them stretched up and up like a crane, the chains jiggling as they moved.  “I need my hands to grasp at something if we fall out.”

Alec turned to him now.  “What’s wrong?”  He narrowed his eyes.  “Are you scared?”

“Of course not.”  Magnus’s heart did palpitations in his chest as the carriage moved sluggishly upward.  His legs dangled limply in the air.  The water seemed scarily close and scarily far away. 

“Liar,” said Alec.  Surprisingly he reached out and grasped Magnus’s hand, his skin a comforting pressure against his.  Magnus didn’t know why he was surprised.  He guessed he thought Alec would mock him.  “Are you—?”

“Alec!” Magnus gasped.  They had almost reached the top; beyond the far stretch the track sloped diagonally downward.  “I’m afraid you’re going to get a face full of my vomit.”

Alec raised his eyebrows.

“No, this isn’t good,” Magnus continued.  “Alexander, I’m afraid this is it.  This is the end of my journey.  This is the end of Magnificent Magnus Bane.”  He rested his head against the armrest and closed his eyes.  “I request Madonna to be played at my funeral—“

The carriage tipped forward.

It was like hanging out the window of an airplane—wind rushing in his ears and the skin of his face pulled back, as if someone were stretching it from behind.  His stomach somersaulted and his eyes snapped open.  He screamed as they went over the first loop; he caught a glimpse of white, water, and summer sky, dotted with white puffs of clouds.

Magnus glanced at Alec and saw that his face was squashed in, as if he had been thwacked with the flat side of a pan.  Alec’s mouth gaped open in a soundless scream, lips flapping like a fish.  Magnus would have laughed if he could breathe.

The carriage made a sharp divert; Magnus’s head slammed into Alec’s, rucking his gray woollen hat up over his ear.  Magnus tried to grab at it, succeeding in only punching himself in the face repeatedly and accidentally slapping Alec.  A moment later and the hat were off.  It whipped through the air, bouncing like a balloon caught in a fierce wind—and smacked into the face of the passenger in the carriage behind him. 

Magnus’s hands flew to his head.  “My hair!” he screamed.  “Run!  Save yourself!”

Alec’s laugh was distorted in the wind. 

The carriage jerked to a halt suddenly.  Magnus gasped and looked down—and instantly regretted it.  They were dangling at least one hundred feet in the air, hovering awkwardly above the crowd of mundies lining up for the ride.  It suddenly became too much for Magnus.

He curdled over and vomited.  The contents of his stomach poured out of him and fountained over the mundanes below.  Their screams echoed back to him.  Several had been looking up with excited interest and had gotten it full in the face; others had leaped out of the way, tripping over their feet.

Alec burst out laughing.  He seemed to have trashed the Shadowhunters mandate for the day, Magnus noted.  Alec dug something out of his jeans pocket and held it out in front of them.  His mobile phone.

“Let’s take a selfie,” he said. 

Magnus didn’t have the energy to protest—the phone flashed.  Alec produced the photo and held it up for Magnus to see.  Alec, his cheeks flushed with cold, was smiling.  His black hair was dishevelled and stuck up in every which way.  Magnus was momentarily proud—until he glanced at himself.  His hair, jelled to jagged glittering spikes, was parted down his hairline, like antlers sprouting from either side of his head.  Whereas Alec was flushed, Magnus was pale in comparison.  Magnus’s eyes were closed and stray droplets of vomit dotted his chin.

Magnus glared as Alec punched the buttons on it.  “What are you doing?” Magnus asked, suspicious.

“Sending it,” said Alec.

“To…?” prompted Magnus.

Alec hesitated.  “To Jace,” he said finally.

“No!”  Magnus twisted and attempted to snatch the phone.  Alec, anticipating his move, shifted and hung over the other side of the carriage.  It swung, unbalanced.  Magnus’s stomach lurched.  “Give it to me, Alexander.  Don’t you dare send it to Jace.”

Alec chuckled.

Magnus, bracing himself, bounced in his seat.  The carriage twisted.  Alec lost grip on the rectangular device and it slipped from his grasp, twirling through the air like a stone—and plonked a mundane girl on the scalp.  She collapsed. 

Alec whirled on him, face suffused with fury.  “You BROKE my PHONE!” he shouted.

“You broke your phone,” said Magnus.

“But my PHONE!”  His blue eyes blazed.  “Why does everybody take it out on my phone?  What did they ever do to anybody?”

“Ring me every 10 minutes until it was eventually destroyed by heavenly fire,” Magnus reminded him.

Alec blanched.  “That—that was—“

Magnus never found out what that was, because at that moment the carriage hurtled forward again.  Magnus’s neck clicked painfully as the air was sucked out of him.

The remainder of the ride was very much as he’d expected: flailing legs and screams; Alec laughing with joy; Magnus vomiting a second time, only this time he had the decency to hang over the side—where it coated the girl’s face in the carriage behind him.  She really was getting a face full of it.

When the ride eventually drew to a standstill, Magnus found his cheeks numb and his mouth swollen.  He felt as if he’d had Botox.

Pushing back through the line, they found the paramedics tending to the girl on the floor.  It was one of the lesbian’s Magnus had seen before, striding toward the front seat.  She was sitting upright on the ground now, looking disoriented.  A massive lump was pulsing out of her forehead.

She held up Alec’s phone.  The screen was fissured with cracks.  “This,” she muttered.  “It fell on my head.”

The girl shot an awkward smile at Magnus, and he realized with a jolt of surprise that he had allowed the glamour to fall away.  Fear had overridden him.

Alec noticed it, too, because without a word of warning he reached forward and plucked the phone out of the girl’s fingers.  “Sorry,” he mumbled.  “Fell out of my pocket.”

The lesbian girl glared at him.

 ——————————

As they strode away, the sun setting over the horizon, Alec smiled and announced, rather abruptly, “Good job I already sent the photo, though.”

“I did wonder,” Magnus said, but he smiled and took his hand.    

mistletoemalecdestiel:

Happy Malec Day!

some sleepy alec to celebrate ❤

—

Magnus was slumped on the sofa, surrounded by spell books and paper covered with roughly drawn symbols. He rubbed his eyes and took a gulp of cold coffee. He shuddered and glanced at the clock. It was nearly four in the morning, and he was attempting to work on a spell for a client. It was a simple memory spell, but he wanted to make sure that there weren’t any extra notes on the matter. Maybe he would discover a simpler, more effective way of carrying it out.

He dropped his head into his hands, his chipped purple nail varnished fingers pressing into his temples. It wasn’t working. He couldn’t distract himself from the hollow sick feeling in his chest.

Alec still hadn’t called.

His boyfriend was out on a shadowhunter’s patrol to look into a couple of rogue vampires that were terrorising the streets of Manhattan. As always, whenever he went out on shadowhunter business, Alec had promised to call Magnus when he got back to the Institute. It was the only way that Magnus would know that Alec was safe. It was meant to stop him worrying.

Alec had gone out at 10pm. 6 hours ago. Six hours and Magnus had heard nothing. Anything could have happened; Alec could be lying dead in a backstreet for all he knew, his body ripped to pieces by vampires or werewolves –

Magnus forced himself to calm down. If something had happened to Alec, the Institute would have been told. And Isabelle would have rung him. No Alec couldn’t be dead. He just wasn’t back yet. Which meant he was still out fighting dangerous rogue vampires.

Loving a shadowhunter was hard. You were constantly worried about them, convinced that one day you’d get a phone call or a visitor telling you that they were injured – or worse. And they were constantly on red alert; Alec had had to leave at least one of their dates to go out on Clave business. Alec was a Shadowhunter first, everything else second. Hunting down demons and sorting out Downworlders was what he did: it was as much a part of him as Magnus’s magic was part of him.

A pair of yellow-green eyes stared at Magnus mournfully around the slightly ajar door. As the tiny cat slunk across the room towards him, Magnus dropped the spell book he was holding onto the sofa next to him. Chairman Meow leapt into the warlock’s empty lap and observed him with baleful eyes. Then he mewed quietly and pressed himself against Magnus’s chest.

He lifted the cat into his arms, pressing his face into his fur. Chairman Meow nuzzled his neck, mewling sadly. The cat missed his blue eyed Nephilim as much as Magnus did. He’d been mooching round the loft for the last two hours, refusing to eat anything even when Magnus had put out his favourite cat food.

The Chairman was worried about Alec. Magnus could tell from the way the cat licked his cheek, desperate and anxiously.

The warlock picked up his phone, futilely checking for a missed call or a message. Nothing.

The door swung open and a familiar figure staggered in.

“Alec!” Magnus jumped up, dropping Chairman Meow onto the floor, who ran towards Alec and circled his feet, mewing happily.

Magnus almost ran to Alec, relief flooding through him. He was alright –

Alec took a step forward and staggered.

Magnus rushed and caught his boyfriend by his shoulders. When he pulled his hands away, they were covered in blood which had been concealed by the black of Alec’s gear.

“Alec –” he began, panicking.

“S’not mine,” Alec mumbled, looking up into Magnus’s eyes. They were red with exhaustion. “Werewolf’s.”

“A werewolf?” Magnus cupped his boyfriend’s cheek. “I thought you said it was vampires?”

Alec shook his head as if it was the most tiring thing in the world. “We dealt with the vampires. But then we were told to go after these werewolves as well, and –” his eyelids fluttered and he leaned against Magnus, who wrapped his arms around him, hugging him fiercely.

“I’m so glad you’re safe.” Magnus whispered.

“So am I,” came Alec’s exhausted reply. “Can I lie down? I’m so tired.”

Magnus nodded and waved his hand, his books and papers flying off the sofa to land in a large pile in the corner. He helped Alec across the room and unzipped his bloodstained black jacket, dropping it onto the floor. Alec collapsed onto the sofa, his boots still on. Magnus made a thick blanket and pillow appear, and he tucked Alec in, making his comfortable. Finally he unlaced Alec’s boots, which were covered in mud and blood and the Angel knew what else.

The warlock perched on the sofa next to Alec’s head. His boyfriend was asleep already. Magnus smiled softly at the way Alec’s face had relaxed, his mouth slightly open. He looked so young and vulnerable. Magnus reached down and lightly ran his fingers through Alec’s black hair. Alec’s eyelids fluttered slightly and Magnus leaned down to brush his lips against Alec’s forehead. He knew that it might wake him, but he needed to touch him, to kiss him, to prove that he was really there.

Alec’s eyes fluttered open. “Magnus,” he murmured.

“Yes?”

“I’m sorry.” His eyes closed for a moment.

Magnus frowned. “Darling, what for?”

“For – for not ringing you.” Alec was clearly struggling to keep his eyes open, but there was a stubborn set to his jaw that told Magnus he wasn’t going to let himself sleep until he’d talked to Magnus. “I promised I’d call you, and I didn’t –”

“You promised to ring me when you got back to the Institute.” Magnus frowned. “Do they know you’re here?”

“No. Yes. I don’t know.”

Magnus sighed. “Oh, Alexander.” He scrolled through the contacts on his phone and found Isabelle. He paused, checking the time. Maybe not. He kept scrolling and found Maryse. He rang, watching Alec the whole time.

It was answered after one ring. “Yes? I mean, this is Maryse Lightwood.”

“Maryse, its Magnus.”

“Magnus! Have you heard from Alec –”

“He’s here with me now.” He heard her exhale of relief. “He’s not hurt, just exhausted. I think its best if he stays here tonight –”

“Of course. You’ll take care of him, I know. Just – is he awake?”

Magnus glanced at Alec. “Barely.”

“Can I speak to him quickly?”

“You can try, but I don’t know how coherent he’ll be.”

“I’ll try.”

Magnus knelt next to Alec and shook his shoulder gently. Alec started and looked around confused. Then he saw Magnus and relaxed.

Magnus held the phone out. “It’s your mother.”

Alec stared at the phone for a long moment and then took it.

“Hi mom,” he voice was think with sleep. He frowned as he concentrated on what was being said to him. “But mom, I’ve never seen a  moose.” Magnus stared at him. Alec sighed. “Alright, I’ll find one tomorrow. Okay. Night, mom.” He let the phone slide from his fingers and Magnus picked it up.

Maryse said dryly. “Are you sure he isn’t drunk?”

“Just exhausted I think.”

“Alright. Thanks Magnus. For – everything.”

“Anytime.” Maryse disconnected the call and Magnus dropped his phone onto the small coffee table.

“Magnus,” Alec muttered.

“Yes?”

“Can you come and lie down with me?” he slurred sleepily.

Magnus smiled. “There’s not exactly enough room, darling. I know I watch my figure, but I’m not that thin.”

“Oh,” Alec forehead puckered adorably. “It would just be so nice for you to lie here with me…” he exhaled slowly, his eyelids fluttering.

“Well if you’re going to stay here, you might as well come to bed.” Magnus decided. He shook Alec’s shoulder. “Come on, sleepy head. You know I’m not strong enough to carry you.”

Alec stood up slowly and leaned his entire body weight on Magnus. They made their way through to the bedroom slowly, Alec trying desperately hard to stay awake. A shape dashed past them into the bedroom. Magnus laughed.

The cat was curled up on the pillows, watching them and waiting. Magnus helped Alec into bed, lifting Chairman Meow off the pillows. The cat glared at Magnus, and promptly curled up on Alec’s chest.

 Magnus turned the lights out in the rest of the loft, but created a small ball of soft light in the bedroom. He changed into his pyjamas and climbed into bed next to his boyfriend. Alec snuggled close to him, pressing his hands against Magnus’s chest. Magnus wrapped an arm around Alec, pulling in closer and cocooning them together. He kissed Alec’s forehead, and the Shadowhunter smiled sleepily. He opened his eyes blearily and looked at Magnus lovingly. “Kiss me properly?” he mumbled.

Magnus was only too happy to oblige. He cupped Alec’s face gently, running a finger across his cheek. Alec gave a tiny contented sound as Magnus leaned in to kiss him. He felt Alec’s lips part beneath his and the kiss deepened, Magnus directing it because Alec was too tired to do anything except move his lips softly against Magnus’s. The warlock pulled back slowly and Alec relaxed into the pillows. Magnus ran a hand through Alec’s black hair. “Sleep,” he murmured. “Everything’s fine.”

Alec smiled properly for the first time since he’d staggered through Magnus’s door. “I know, Magnus. I’m with you.” Then he closed his eyes and fell asleep with a final contented sigh.

Magnus watched him and listened for his breathing to settle into a steady rhythm. Finally, he extinguished the light and lay down properly next to his boyfriend. He closed his eyes, suddenly realising how tired he was. Alec wasn’t the only one who’d had a long night.

Just as he was falling asleep, he felt the pressure on the pillow above his head change and he opened his eyes blearily. Chairman Meow was curled up above his and Alec’s heads, purring quietly. Magnus smiled and closed his eyes again. Within a minute, he was asleep.

They slept like that, the Shadowhunter, the warlock, and the tiny cat, long into the next day, the two men’s gentle breathing mingled with the cat’s quiet and contented purring.

terresdebrumestories:

✗ TECHNICAL DETAILS

FANDOM: The Shadowhunter’s Chronicles
SERIES:  –
RATING: General
WORDCOUNT: 2 999
PAIRING(S): Malec
CHARACTER(S): Magnus Bane, Alec Lightwood
GENRE: Fluff, Comfort, Important conversations.
TRIGGER WARNING(S): Very low self-esteem, implication of suicidal behavior (offscreen, but still)
SUMMARY: Alec comes back from a mission that could have cost him his life. Magnus is nything but happy about it —especially when it brings to light a more long-standing problem.
DEDICATION(S): To blue-boringers-fallen-angel, whose meta plays a good part in how I see Alec, and mistletoemaryse, whose reblog sparked this fic.
NOTE(S): Thanks to talysalankil, for betaing the story!
One shot inspired by this picture which, at the time it showed up on my dash, was accompanied with the following quote:

“I bet you could sometimes find all the mysteries of the universe in someone’s hand." 
—Benjamin Alire Saenz

✗ THE FIC

Read More

childish-the-rapper:

Sing To Me: (Teen/900) Oliver sang in the shower, and he sang well.

Just Keep Playing: (General/700) Really, Connor needs to stop creeping up on Oliver.

Read More

terresdebrumestories:

✗ TECHNICAL DETAILS

FANDOM: The Shadowhunter’s Chronicles
SERIES: More Fire than Ice
RATING: Teen and Up
WORDCOUNT: 5 668
PAIRING(S): Past/Ambiguous Malec
CHARACTER(S): Alec Lightwood, Magnus Bane, Fairchild, Morgenstern and Lightwood OCs
GENRE: Future fic.
TRIGGER WARNING(S): This series contains references to slavery and various degrees of homo/queerphobia. I don’t plan on inserting anything graphic, but you’re better safe than sorry.
SUMMARY: It’s been a month since Alec (re)entered active Shadowhunter life, and he’s finally starting to have somewhat of a social one as well —sure, it’s odd that he hangs out with warlocks and witches so much, but what can he say? He does have things to discuss with Magnus anyway.
DEDICATION(S): –
NOTE(S): Repost from before I lost my blogs. Originally written and posted in August 2014.

✗ THE FIC

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mistletoewalsh:

Connor loves carrot soup.

On Friday’s Oliver gets off work earlier. On Friday’s Oliver always makes Connor’s special soup, carrot soup. It’s true, they have fallen a bit into a routine but Connor likes it. Actually, he loves it. He loves to know that, no matter what, in the end of the day he’s going home. Not to an empty bed, an empty apartment and an empty life, no, not anymore. Now, he gets to go home to safety, to warmth, to Oliver. And on Friday’s to delicious carrot soup.

                                                    ~.~

There is the sound of keys rattling in the hallway, the door being unlocked, door opens, door closes, deep breath. There it is, the smell of happiness. Connor takes off his shows and walks barefoot on the wooden floor causing the floor boards to creak. He walks into the kitchen where Oliver is cooking with his adorable red apron (Connor has this kinky fantasy about bending Oliver over the kitchen table and fucking him while he wears only that apron, it makes him hard just to think about it, fuck). He wraps his arms around Oliver, putting his hands under the other’s shirt to warm them up and making him shiver from cold hands touching warm skin. 

“Hey honey, I’m home.” Connor whispers, biting Oliver’s earlobe and trailing kisses down his neck to his shoulder, stopping there and breathing him in. Oliver shakes his head, smiles fondly and turns to kiss Connor’s cold lips.

“Hey.” Oliver cups Connor’s cheeks and feels the cold from outside. “Go take a warm bath, you’re freezing!” He’s so adorable when he worries about me, Connor thinks.

“The soup will be ready when you get back. Go!” Connor smiles gingerly and kisses Oliver.

“Okay.” He says softly, nodding his head.

Connor feels so calm and satisfied. He feels warm inside even though he’s freezing. He has let himself go completely and in that moment he realizes something. He realizes there isn’t a thing in the world he wouldn’t do for Oliver. And has he’s undressing and getting in the shower, while the warm water falls on his body, he keeps thinking about Oliver. He can’t stop thinking about him, about how good Oliver is to him. How he makes his insides curl up in a ball and his walls crumble to the ground. Connor is thankful he found Oliver, he really is. And now, more than ever, he’s sure he doesn’t anybody else.

monicashipscoliver:

Connor runs through the rain.

He messed this up. He messed this up so bad.

But he can fix it. He’s sure of it. If he can just get to Oliver. If he can just –

The elevator takes too long. Connor runs up the stairs. He’s panting when he finally reaches door 303. His soaked clothes are dripping water onto the floor.

Frantically, he knocks. He should play this cool, like he always does. He’s messed up before. He’s fixed it before.

But it’s never meant to so damned much.

The door opens. Oliver’s frowning, brow pinched together. He looks angry. But Connor doesn’t miss the red in his eyes or the way his hand trembles as he grips the door frame.

Oliver’s only pretending.

They both pretend too much.

Read More

terresdebrumestories:

✗ TECHNICAL DETAILS

FANDOM: The Shadowhunter’s Chronicles
SERIES: –
RATING: General
WORDCOUNT: 2 372
PAIRING(S): –
CHARACTER(S): Alec Lightwood, Jace Lightwood, Isabelle Lightwood, Magnus Bane,Ragnor Fell, Catarina Loss, Raphael Lightwood, Max Lightwood, A couple of OCs.
GENRE: Stories in text messages
TRIGGER WARNING(S): Very slight implications of suicide attempts (really faint)
SUMMARY: In which accidentally calling an unknown number sometimes leads to very nice things.
DEDICATION(S): –
NOTE(S): Repost from before I lost my blogs. Originally written and posted in July 2014. Texts #36 & #37 are unapologetically inspired by/taken from this post, which I keep laughing/snorting at every time I read it.

✗ THE FIC

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heymacareyna:

Malec warmups: Demon hunting

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