Repeat after me:I am amazing and fabulous for liking/reblogging/giving my opinion about/constructively criticising Jahnavi’s fics.Now go get yourself a cookie because you guys are the literal best.
Moving on,my bae-tas(wink wink)(sorry) @ghostiemakingposties and Shradicool (still insufferably in possession of her good sense) are angels in disguise(or not in disguise) that is the only explanation sorry I don’t make the rules.
This one is again,if you didn’t pick up from the title already,super sappy but bear with me.I have plans .
Read,like,share,comment,ask,eat,drink, sleep,swim,open that Club Penguin account you’ve been avoiding for 10 years,watch some SpongeBob,sit on a swing,idk you keep doing you fam.
Also,I am now on ff.net and ao3 as
beating-thump-thump and beatingthumpthump respectively and I ramble a lot less on there,so if less talk more fic is your thing, they’re just a hop,skip and jump away.
Spread the love y'all!
Magnus Bane loves having the ability to do magic. He really does.
Nothing beats being able to get the remote from the coffee table after he’s sat down and forgotten it or being able to fix a last-minute eyeliner mishap with just a flick of his fingers.
(Not to mention, Alec gets this look in his eye whenever he does magic and when that happens, Magnus knows there isn’t going to be much talking between them for the next few hours.)
(At least not the sweet, innocent kind.)
So yes, Magnus loves being able to solve life’s greatest crises (and turning on his boyfriend) with only a small gesture.
He loves having a job where he literally gets paid just to cast a few spells.
But Magnus Bane loathes the paperwork involved.
Everything will be going swimmingly, and he’ll be going about his job, content and happy as ever, when this one customer shows up and throws a wrench in this wheel of satisfaction.
It’s happened without fail, repeatedly, from when Magnus first set up shop (figuratively, because that sounds like a super tacky thing to do and Magnus Bane is by no means tacky.)
That one person will pitch a favour at him and Magnus will agree to help even if he can’t recollect exactly how to do it at the moment; there’s no way in hell he’s turning something down because he can’t do it. He’ll figure it out, thank you very much.
Except, the figuring out bit is always harder than it seems.
The nights he spends poring over his spell books and consulting with Ragnor and Catarina see him cursing himself for ever taking up the job because What on earth is this?
This then gradually leads to him spending an increasing number of hours indoors which makes him cranky.
However, Magnus Bane never gives up.
How many ever cases like this he’s faced, he’s never not solved the problem. He’ll either find the bloody solution or he’ll die trying.
(Or, you know, he’ll fall asleep on his desk without removing his make-up which is almost as disastrous as death.)
(Plus, he has something to live for now apart from his fellow downworlder friends.)
Which is why Tuesday night sees him on his work-table, frustrated (not the good kind) and sleep-deprived (not for the good reasons).
He’s clueless, glitter-less and Alec-less and the three are a bitch of an issue to deal with separately, let alone together.
He vows to himself that once he’s done with this crap (whenever that is) he’s going to treat himself to a spa day because he deserves it, goddammit.
It’s close to the time when Magnus turns in, but he catches something out of the corner of his eye on the page which looks useful and this leads him on this whole other chase, flipping from book to book, referring to past notes and relevant facts.
His eyes are droopy and his head keeps lolling in front, but he can’t stop now, okay?
This is most solid lead he’s had in days and he’s so close and the thought of being done with this infernal crap is just so appealing and he just wants to get it over with.
He fights to stay awake but slowly, slowly his head dips and he’s struggling to keep his eyes open.
It’s a losing battle and soon, in the warm golden haze of the lights and to the calm silence of the apartment, Magnus lets his head hit the top of the book on the desk with a thud, asleep even before he can make it all the way.
The constant sounds of the city that never sleeps accompany Alec on his late-night journey from the Institute to the loft.
He’s just about done with Valentine’s bullshit and he can’t take another second at a place where there’s this constant speculation and doubt and this air of trepidation hanging around.
He just needs to get away.
Alec has a few places he goes to when he needs to crash for a break, but the loft has become his favourite safe-house to sleep in.
(Or not sleep in, whatever. It’s all quite splitting hairs at this point.)
He sees Magnus’s building and the sight instantly relaxes him.
He climbs up the flights of stairs and keys open the door.
The vision he’s greeted with makes him stop breathing for a second.
There, at the centre of his desk, lies Magnus’s head in the middle of this apparent hurricane of books and paper.
His eyes are closed and his hair’s fallen onto the table, hiding the top of his forehead.
His face is bare and he lets out soft noises as he breathes in his sleep.
Alec knows he’s been working on a particularly difficult case and he’s come to the loft at nights to see Magnus working hard, but he’s never seen him asleep at his desk.
The whole setting is so peaceful and serene and the lights throw this aura of warmness over Magnus and Alec is sorely tempted to take a picture.
He ends up just standing there for close to a minute, just looking at his boyfriend, before he snaps out of it.
He walks towards the sleeping warlock and gently picks him up with both hands, bridal style.
(His heart warms just a bit when Magnus nuzzles his head onto his chest.)
Alec carries him to the room and lays him on the bed. He climbs in behind him and together, they lie down, one asleep,the other almost there.
A shadowhunter and a warlock.
One hundreds of years old and the other barely at 20.
Both tangled together, pressed so close, you can hardly make out where one begins and the other ends.
They’re wrapped around each other’s bodies, unconsciously curling into each other.
Alec lets Magnus’s comforting warmth lull him to sleep and as he’s about to drop off, he hears a muffled I love you and all he can do is tighten his arms around the man, pull him impossibly closer and hum in response.
“So Y/N tell us about the cute story on how you two met?” Ellen asked, while she wiggled her eyebrows on the two of us, typical Ellen on her show. Neymar and I looked at each other and giggled. “Um, it was actually a funny story, because I chipped in and DJ’d for my friend, and Neymar told me To play some soothing, romantic songs, and so I played, and later did I know he was taking me for a romantic dance.” I said, while trying my best to silent the giggles. “But, Y/N finished her mix first before letting me take her to the dance floor.” Neymar added, laughing. “I kinda felt rejected that moment.” He said, while the whole audience was laughing. “I mouthed at you to wait for a sec, love.” I added. Ellen laughed, and changed her cue cards. “Well, that’s really cute! A lot of people were so intrigued, on what youtwo are doing without the media, just being Neymar, and Y/N?” She said, and giggled. “Actually, we just do random stuff, eat, sleep, swim?” Neymar replied. “Yeah, actually that’s it, oh and I read books.” I added.
Ellen grinned, so widely, and looked at the audience wittyly. “Do you agree, guys?” Ellen said, and the crowed shouted a ‘No!’
“What? Come on guys, it’s true.” Neymar said chuckling and pulling me closer to him putting his hands on my shoulders, resting his palms on my deltoid part.
“Let’s see.” Ellen grinned. “Well someone, who’s really close to both of you sent a video earlier, she said it was a surprise for the both of you, because she thinks that you Are two of the best couples she’s ever seen.” Ellen said, keeping an eye contact to the both of us, while she can’t hide her smile. “Whoa, those might be embarassing.” I said, covering my eyes with my hands like a baby who’s scared about what is about to be played on the screen. “Okay, lights, camera, play!” Ellen said, as I really feel my heart beating so fast. And the video started right after Ellen said, it was from weeks ago, because of the date on the lower corner of the screen.
Rafa was sneeking onto the corner, giggling while Me and Neymar was playing poker on the pool side wearing swimming clothes. “Neymar, how ‘bout we’ll make a bet, if I win I’ll throw you off the pool, if you win you’ll throw me into the pool?” I said, giggling as I know I’m winning the set. “Sure.” He said, wiggling his eyebrows, and smiling so crazily at me. “But I’m betting you don’t have the right cards. “Why wouldn’t I be sure if I have this.” I said, and immediately threw down my triple A cards. “See! Now Mr. Say good bye to that dry hair of yours, and you’re going down.” I said and stood up, I pulled him to the side of the pool and he immdiately stood up. He put his arms around my waist, and said. “I’m not jumping in without you.” He said and smirked, and carried me and jumped on the pool side. “Aaah! I hate you Neymar da Silva Santos Junior!!!” I screamed on top of my lungs as I breathed airafter submerging to the water. “I love you too Y/N!” He replied.
While watching the first part of the video I felt butterflies in my stomach as Neymar pulled me closer and whispered. “I love you, and I would want to do that everyday.”
The second video was when we had our vacation in Ibiza, at the yacht. We weren’t really aware that Rafa was taking some videos of us doing the stuff we do. Neymar sung his favorite Thiaguinho song while he was only with his shorts, and we were just sitting at the side of the boat, and danced through the beat of the music he was doing.
“Neymar, can you change the song, you’ve been singing that for probably 30 minutes alrady.” I said, laughing, trying to catch my breath. “Mmm, let’s sing an Ed Sheeran song.” I said, and we both hum through the Photograph song, which was coincidentaly being played by his friends down stairs. Neymar put his hands on my waist, and rested his chin on my shoulder. And whispered something to me. Which wasn’t heard in the camera, but I still remember what he said.
“Awwww.” The audience said, as the 'The end’ appeared formally ending the video. “Wow, it’s so cool how genuine you two are.” Ellen said, while her smiles were upto her ears. “We’re intrigued, what did Neymar whispered to you, Y/N?” She said, and I smiled. “Um, oh my god, this is embarassing. Well um, he just said that he-” Neymar cutting me off, and immediately saying. “That I will love you everyday, every hour, every minute, as well as the second of it. That I will never ever leave your side, no matter what happens, I’ll be here through thick or thin, through bad or good times. I’ll love you forever.” Neymar said, as it was exactly what he has said, I can already feel tears forming into the lower lids of my eyes, and I can’t hide the smile that he’s giving me, as the crowd claps their hands, and Ellen tearing up a bit. “I love you too, Ju.” I replied, as I’m still speechless about what he’s said.
“Well that guys, is what you call true love.” Ellen said, and the show went for a commercial break.
What's your view on Haru going pro and do you think he will? I personally still don't want him too because then there was no point to episode 9 (which I think was done brilliantly). I also don't want Rin or Sousuke (and hopefully Kyoani won't use Makoto) to guilt or prod Haru into going pro and Kyoani uses them to make Haru go "I see the light now, I will go pro"
… Oh hell, this question lol.
Were you around last year when the idea of Olympic!Haruka was first tossed around, and originally it was (as it should have been) a discussion of Haruka’s personality and suitability vis-à-vis the demands and rigours of an Olympic lifestyle… but then soon degenerated, as usual, into a ship war rife with logical fallacies due to the fandom’s tendency to think using the characters’ dicks?
The abovementioned event was prompted by a magazine article, not even official, with one of those pathway-maps where answering Y/N to a question would eventually lead you to a character. One of those questions was Olympic-related, and a Y to that takes you down the path to Haruka or Rin.
I was around for the first parts of the discussion as one of the early dissenters of pro Haruka, and checked myself the hell out as soon as it became clear that fandom was drawing a false and damaging correlation as follows:
Haruka going down the pro/Olympic route = Rin = Victory for the HaruRin
Haruka not going pro/not picking the Olympic route = Makoto = Victory for the HaruMako
I don’t have polite or coherent words to describe my level of fury and contempt at that ridiculous… categorisation of Haruka’s future and choices, and so let it be known that it is firmly my view that ships have no place in such a discussion.
With that established, let’s talk about this issue.
Here I shall link you to the opinion held by me as at November last year, way before season 2, regarding Olympic!Haruka (the link goes to Rosie’s page instead of mine because her theme shows a clear timestamp). Note my complete aversion to the idea of pro Haruka and my position that such a lifestyle is not for him.
Has my opinion changed since then, especially in light of season 2?
Nagisa was the one who caught him off guard at first, having approached him so suddenly and insistently. Rei hadn’t been prepared on many levels, and it took him a while to get used to the blond’s rambunctious and happy-go-lucky attitude, but once he did, he knew his life was over and there was no mistaking it.
god harry styles is so cute. he looks cute eating food and sleeping and swimming and running and playing sports. he looks cute brushing his teethies and playing with animals and posing for photos. bet he’d look real cute choking on a dick