this is exactly why we can’t have more of that… because malec as soft boyfriends is a deadly weapon SO PLS DON’T GO THERE when you start, you can’t stop and it makes you (and others) super emo i can’t read more about soft boyfriends pls have mercy
Deadly is right. But who can help it when Alec looks at Magnus like he is the world and entertains the thought that they could, for a moment, forget about the looming war. That when he looks Magnus in the eye, he sees affection and want, and at this moment, he wants him too. So Alec leans in, eyes trained on Magnus’ lips, head tilting just so slightly and hands reaching out involuntarily towards Magnus’ arms, needing something to ground him. When their lips meet, they glide across one another like a sensuous dance, smooth and unhurried. The air around them slows and their senses overload; all that they hear are each others’ breaths and all they feel is the soft caress of wet lips against theirs.
•ronan, for some reason, is in an odd, super happy mood and is feeling generous, so takes gansey and noah out for drinks at a karaoke bar
•after a few drinks, ronan spots a cute boy with a girl ronan recognizes as blue, that non-psychic hippy chick with the weird fashion sense from that blue witch house down the street
•he’s at that level of drunk where he can make some really bad decisions, so with a little encouraging from gansey and noah, he decides to try and woo the cute boy
•by “woo the cute boy” he means “make a complete fool of himself by singing along to the karaoke version of ‘I want you to want me’ by cheap trick”
•so he gets up on stage, slightly wobbly, and begins a full on dance routine while singing really well actually, all the while staring at cute boy and pointing at him and finishes with a slide down the stage, stopping right in front of him
•the song ends and they stare at each other for a while until adam smiles really big, trying to suppress a laugh. “I’m Adam,” he says, warmly, with a sweet, thick, honey-like accent that makes ronan go quite red. “Ronan,” he finally says, his voice cracking as he does so.
•blue just looses it and can’t help cracking up at the absurdly cliche situation before her
•adam just laughs, pulls out a pen, and scribbles his phone number on ronan’s open palm, which results in ronan almost falling over twice while descending the stairs, still dizzy from the brief interaction
•once he gets back to his seat, he immediately pulls out his phone, which makes gansey and noah give each other concerned looks cause is he okay??? he never uses his phone??? does he need to lie down???
•but then they notice the numbers scrawled on his hand and their faces light up and ronan gets a standing ovation from the two of them
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Potions Master -- An Ichabbie Valentine’s Event Fic
Potions Master by like-bunnies – Someone in Sleepy Hollow is mixing up love potions for the holiday.
Thanks to @sneetchstar for tossing tropes/prompts at me when I couldn’t come up with any more ideas. This isn’t much but it’s my last Ichabbie Valentine’s Day offering. Just some mild smut and fluff. I hope everyone had a fun Ichabbie Valentine’s Day/Week! It has been great!
“Step away from one another!” Jenny
cried out as she ran into the archives.
“You two can’t be together for at
least 24 hours!” Joe exclaimed as he followed right behind her,
sliding to a stop before careening into his girlfriend.
Abbie and Crane both looked up from the
books they were reading at separate tables, surprised at the
interruption. Abbie had worked all day at the FBI field office while
Crane researched the latest evil to visit Sleepy Hollow. She was now
assisting him, trying to figure out what was causing a number of the
residents of the village to act peculiar all morning.
There’s something about Carly’s voice in this song, echoed by the music, that electronic mournfulness.
The sugary earnestness of it, like a whine, almost sliding to a stop before it leaves her mouth; she always sounds desperate but politely so — remember oh! my baby! — an unstoppable force, a rush, that takes you to the place (by which, I mean the feeling) she describes so often in her songs that neither she nor I have words for but we all know exists, that isn’t love yet but might be considered to be with good lighting or with good hindsight. He always makes me cr-iiy-ahhhh! The way her voice breaks when she has to reach that little more. Sometimes the loneliness is worse than the loss.
Cry is about a guy who can’t open up, in that love is about opening up, that unpeeling of independent self to become an ‘us’. In Gimme Love Carly sings I like the feeling, how you make me shy/ I still think about you, think about you a few lines before she demands fall into me! I would rather have you as you are, this sticky web of despair, then not have you at all. He always makes me cry but you know, I want you to stay tonight. I do, I do. How can I not?
At a party a few weeks ago, in a house by the beach tucked in by the hips of the hills, I drunkenly kissed a boy whose abs I could see through his shirt, as distant and circular as the light on the ceiling. He was very warm and tasted of beer. I felt a murmur of want, like a motorbike starting up in a backstreet. The evening heavy like a shroud, a hot parching anticipation, how his arms were heavy round my neck. My friends and their grins shaking like bracelets on arms, all the girls with their painted toe nails glimmering like jewels on the wet floor. People we love! The things we love! He kept texting me. My ex-boyfriend kissed someone else at a party when we were together. I know because I saw them, their hands holding the rims of glossy wet bottles like presents, entwined like vines, while up by the large drive the boys who tried to look hard fixed their hair in the rear view mirrors of cars just like the Bruce Springsteen song. Skin pressed firm and smooth against skin, in the effervescent dark. I didn’t cry. I want you to, but also, also do you want to? Even with hello, I hear goodbye. I saw a girl so beautiful once I felt I couldn’t breathe going up the stairs, my body stopped but my heart kept going, soaring, I thought it was like a drum clashing in my throat, my ribs, every single piece of me, I just thought oh! and she didn’t even look around at me. What I mean is, we all like indifference. But not to the point of no return — he takes me to the feeling but he never wants to strip down to his.
This is what Cry is saying: we change ourselves and we try to change others, we try to move them, we move ourselves but really we remain the same. Nothing you can do to me will ever be so bad as what I can do to myself. He always makes me cry — so do lots of other things. Sometimes a person is both the future and the present, sometimes a person is none of the things — how did Lana put it? The road gets tough sometimes and I don’t know why. We are both things and none. Just because it was short doesn’t mean it was precious. Just because it was a lie doesn’t mean that when you believed it, it wasn’t good. And sometimes we want and we want and we want but it never happens. The song doesn’t last as long as we want it to. Sometimes he’s a dick. The end, we’re done. It will end, it will end. We all finish. She sings goodbye! but also, also goodbye! Thank God we get to say goodbye, you know. What a relief.
That Vriska/Equius exchange was so good though like
it’s so obvious how desperate she is, but there’s no way vriska’s gonna just flat out ask for help, especially from someone like equius; she’s waaay to proud for that (she even admits this shit’s embarrassing for her).
So she tries to buttering him up, maybe hoping that he’ll just offer to help given her condition.
and then, just before passing out she compliments Equius while simultaneously reminding him of how terrible her own lusus is.
Bottom line is, Hussie is incredibly good at writing his characters and I am so fucking excited for the rest of this comic.
I can’t remember the point when adults started cursing around me without apologizing, or when I was allowed to get my own food. I can’t remember when I stopped sliding into my mom’s bed after having a bad night. I can’t remember when my mom stopped chopping my food up at dinner, or when my mom stopped checking on me while I was in the bath. I don’t remember things changing, I don’t remember growing up.