this-was-my-worst-idea

French Perfume Part 1

Crowley X Reader

Word Count: 1.7K

Summary: Female reader receives a package from an admirer.

Warnings: language


Originally posted by howtobesupernatural

“You got a package, (Y/N)! A nice one too.” Sam called out to you as he walked the box into the war room to your seat.

You gazed at the medium sized brown cardboard box that was tied with a bit of twine. It had a white label with lovely royal blue script writing. “Is that French?” You asked Sam.

“Yeah I think it is? What did you order?”

“I didn’t.” You explained.

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4

Sixteen Candles // Supergirl 2x17

Bad Ideas (Chapter Ten)

Welcome Back Everyone! Thanks for your patience with this update, I needed a little break after Chapter Nine.
Thank you for the messages/ comments/ questions in my ask box, I really love hearing from you guys!

If you need to catch up, check out the MASTERLIST.
Otherwise, I hope you enjoy this chapter :)

Little bit NSFW at the end because, really its about time these boys got some action, isn’t it?
*******************

Wade never put his hand on his gun that night.

Mostly because he didn’t want to imagine the look on Peter’s face when the omega heard the gunshot.
Partly because for the first time in his life he thought he might actually be able to silence the noise without having to resort to taking his own life.

So he had sat on the couch alone all night, fists tightly clenched, eyes firmly shut, trying to drown the voices with memories of Peter. Laughing, winking at him, his sweet scent, the dorky glasses, the way he blushed, the way he whispered Alpha in that low voice.

And when morning came, he was still there. Still in one piece. And it was the very first time he’d been able to win against himself.

It seemed like a hollow victory though, when Peter got up that morning and all but ran for his apartment as soon as the doors to the house were unlocked.

Wade let him go, knowing that it was better this way. Better that Pete get some distance so he could heal. Better that Wade stay away so that he could try to put himself back together.

The space between them was good.
It was better this way.

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anonymous asked:

Hi! I just started watching the vlog squad vids i love themmmm I've only seen a few vlogs from the guys, are there certain ones i just have to watch? Help out a new fan!!

one of the best things to do is to go through and watch everyone’s videos in order, it can take forever but it’s worth it!! there aren’t any certain ones that you have to watch because they are all so amazing in their own ways. some of my favorites are Elijah&Christine’s “HER LIFE CHANGING SURGERY”, David’s “KISSING, DATING, FIGHTING, AND MORE!!”, “WE FOUND THIS LIVING IN HIS TOILET!!” and “MY WORST IDEA YET”, Zane’s “HIS IDENTITY WAS STOLEN!! (FRAUD)” “WE GOT STUCK IN AN ELEVATOR!” and “MY LITTLE SISTER GOT INTO A CAR ACCIDENT!!” and i could go on and on but there are way too many to list!!

This morning I fed Liam, unloaded the dishwasher and washed all the bigger stuff. Then instantly went outside to build and fill the new 8ft pool we got for Liam 😒
Didn’t even have my coffee.
Worst idea ever.
The instructions only took you halfway to building the pool. So I had to call a far away number which provably cost me $40 in long distance feels for her to only get me so far before I was stuck again. Texted my SIL cause she picked the pool up for me, and she tells me there’s a video. I watch the video, its for an entirely different pool…
Finally figure it out, start filling it up.
Cannot get the wrinkles out by myself, and the pool is on uneven ground…
Back is killing, I’m wet, muddy, exhausted, starving, and officially giving up.
The pool wins today until hubby gets home.

Completely Re-doing my 10 gallon

Worst idea ever is deciding I wanted to completely empty out my split 10 gallon and start over with it on the first day of my period. I won’t say people on their periods all have the same mood, but good lord I hate myself right now, hahah. The tank is done and look decent (I suck at scaping) but I want to die now. 

anonymous asked:

Omg I just realised that David's merch must've been a LONG time coming, in his vlog "my worst idea yet" from November (6months ago!!!!) you can see he's wearing the first t shirt he came out with while stacking all the apple juice in front of the bathroom in the Denny house! I can't believe I missed that before

i can’t believe that no one really noticed that!! they had been talking about merch for so long but i never thought they’d actually do it

Though My Heart Protests

A Hiddleswift Fanfic and continuation of Under a Dancing Star  

While this story is based on real people and events it is entirely fictional. 


May 2016

Taylor threw her phone across the room, closing her eyes for a moment in an attempt to block out the incessant pounding in her head. She ran a hand through her ruffled blonde hair and held back a sigh. One Instagram video, and suddenly her and Tom’s Met Gala dance party had been picked up by every major news source in the country. She should have seen it coming; it was a public event even if it hadn’t been televised. But she had harbored the hope that for once in her life a private interaction might stay private.

She had already spoken with Tree about the videos, both agreeing that a statement would only magnify the situation. Nothing happened, she kept trying to convince herself. It will all blow over. Everything will be fine.

Except she already knew it wouldn’t be. Her immediate call after hanging up with Tree had been Adam. She told him that it was nothing to worry about, just the media creating something out of nothing. And he had been completely fine with it. He reassured her that he wasn’t upset, that he knew how every part of her life was blown out of proportion and splashed across front pages, that he trusted her. He had been wonderfully understanding. So why did she feel so terrible now?

She pulled one of the many throw pillows scattered around the couch to her chest and hugged it, burying her face in the plush fabric. She knew why. Because she had wanted him to be at least a little upset, a little concerned that she was slipping away. Because she was in LA and so was he but they weren’t spending tonight together. Because every time she looked at the Met Gala videos and recalled how wonderful Tom had been a little voice in her head whispered that it should have been Adam. It should have been Adam dancing with her like crazy and causing her heart to pound and making her fall for him. Because he was her boyfriend and she loved him. So why did it feel like that love was fading away?

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simplelations  asked:

sasosaku fic recs? :3

[SOUNDS OF ME SLAMMING STACKS OF PAPER ON THE DESK] alright kids buckle up because it’s about to get wild 

Porcelain by Shoujo Junkie - this is legitimately my favourite sasosaku fic……im a huge sucker for fairytails and this one BROKE me so hard i was crying tears and dribbling snot at the end of it……..it’s probably the only sasosaku fic i still think about regularily four years later (it also has a pretty writing style it’s so good please read it + the urges i have to illustrate this fic are Unreal)

strings by Cracker-Nin - the best assortment of sasosaku drabbles there is if you try to fight me on this you’ve already lost i lay awake at night angry at how little reviews this thing has

(while you’re at it check out their other drabbles here and here thirrin’s friend is truly a genius beyond our time) 

Carnation by aksdlhfklsd - THIS ONE’S SHORT AND SWEET basically sasori fawning over how rad sakura is i loved it a lot when i read it for the first time 

By a Picture by NushiKasai - this one’s really good because it allowed sakura to have more insight on sasori and that was ;-;;;; ALSO THE END destroyed my tiny frail body

Against All Odds by koobabear - I didn’t actually like this one back when I read it for the first time because platonic sasosaku was boring to me so basically I was WRONG and WEAK please read this one…. part 2 (but pre-shippuuden) sakura and sasori on a mission of self-discovery and friendship (also unfortunately this one isn’t finished)

Das Puppengesicht by VesperChan - this one’s a bit older but the ending’s so good………also i really like german used for aesthetic i am 1000% DOWN with that (you should check vesper out in general if you havent because they are a really really good!! writer!!!)

These Days by StormDragon666 - 30k fic about sasori thinking he’s in the friendzone but that’s okay because his fedora isnt that glaringly obvious okay i was joking it’s a fic about sasori and sakura growing up together with lots of pining and sweetness and they’re really cute… please read this one (this is like..the only fic i like despite it having some tropes and aspects i normally dont find that appealing in (sasosaku) fic thats how great it is thirrin’s friends are truly a blessing to the community)

Chronicles by SunRises6 - another childhood growing up together friendship turned romance fic because i am a Real Sucker for those things

Lost Year by OmgItsPocky - shoutout to this fic for making me become obsessed with same-age ninjaverse AUs I don’t think any fic of that type wrecked me as hard as this one I REALLY REALLY dig how sasori and sakura interact so for that alone you should go and take a peak (they also kick orochimaru’s ass and change history this fic is a service to the community) (general shoutout to this author too i still reread all of their stuff on the regular ;-;;;;)

The Lost Empire by Nheala -  y’all should know this one but I still need to remind you that this fic had the best use of the fight (AND KANKURO AND INO AS SIDE CHARACTERS) I’ve ever seen and I’m so!!! excited!!! so see where it goes I get really giddy every time I see that it updated……i love it sm………..

ANOTHER ONE ID REC IF ID FIND IT IS Wind Me Up Baby by yourturntowatchmyback&her friend(??) ITS A REALLY REALLY GOOD MODERN AU FIC they also wrote another one with edo sasori where sakura brings him flowers which I unfortunately cant find right now but if you happen to explore and find fics with this description read them asap I beg you I love them sm

 - EVERYTHING SHANNON WROTE EVER SEGMENT -

If you love yourself you should go and indulge in shannon’s drabbles (here on her new blog) because she is not only lovely but also incredibly talented HONESTLY i could trust her with my worst ideas and she’d turn them into gold…. (shannon also has a very good grasp on characters and interaction and her writing style is so lively and!!! im gay)

last but not least if you have ignored my constant advertisements (fck y-) here is the friendly reminder to read Shannon’s and Mine’s child fic Colorblind we have Sasori and Sakura as the TOKEN HETS BUT NOT REALLY BECAUSE NO ONE IN THIS FIC IS HETEROSTRAIGHT who learn to appreciate each other befriend and then fall in love and it’s basically our go to verse for everything LOVE YOURSELF and read it (please) 

- EVERYTHING SHANNON WROTE EVER SEGMENT END -

tl;dr sooo while I seem very uptight when it comes to my ship I’m actually a lot more tolerant when it comes to fic?? probably because I’ve read all of them at some point

I guess the general gist is that I like fics that have a good interaction between them… I enjoy darkfic (as long as the dark aspects arent romanticized) as much as fluff (idrc if it’s ooc id still read it because im WEAK) so I’m not that picky. I hope I could help you there!!

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MY WORST IDEA YET!! // David Dobrik

Malec’s First Date snippet. Wish we could have it in the show..but I am sure the writers come up with something else :D (And we will all go nuts again after a promo of the date, like before 1x12 aired)

He had told himself that this date would be a bit of excitement, an isolated incident in a life that had become a little too routine, and nothing more.

He tried not to think of the way he’d given Alec an out, and how Alec had looked at him and said with devastating simplicity, I like you. Magnus had always thought of himself as someone who could wrap words around people, trip them up or pull the wool over their eyes when he had to. It was amazing how Alec could just cut through it all. It was more amazing that he didn’t even seem to be trying.

As soon as Alec had left, Magnus had called Catarina, sworn her to secrecy, and then told her all about it.

“Did you agree to go out with him because you think the Lightwoods are jerks and you want to show them you can corrupt their baby boy?” asked Catarina.

Magnus balanced his feet on Chairman Meow. “I do think the Lightwoods are jerks,” he admitted. “And that does sound like something I’d do. Damn it.”

“No, it doesn’t really,” said Catarina. “You’re sarcastic twelve hours a day, but you’re almost never spiteful. You have a good heart under all the glitter.”

Catarina was the one with the good heart. Magnus knew exactly whose son he was, and where he came from.

“Even if it was spite, no one could blame you, not after the Circle, after all that happened.”

Magnus looked out the window. There was a Polish restaurant across the street from his house, its flashing lights advertising twenty-four-hour borscht and coffee (hopefully not mixed together). He thought of the way Alec’s hands had trembled when he’d asked Magnus if he wanted to go out, about how glad and astounded he had seemed when Magnus said yes.

“No,” he said. “It’s probably a bad idea—it’s probably my worst idea this decade—but it had nothing to do with his parents at all. I said yes because of him.”

Catarina was quiet for a few moments. If Ragnor was around he would have laughed, but Ragnor had disappeared to a spa in Switzerland for a series of complicated facials meant to bring out the green in his complexion. Catarina had the instinct of a healer: she knew when to be kind.

“Good luck on your date, then,” she said at last.

“Much appreciated, but I don’t need good luck; I need assistance,” said Magnus. “Just because I’m going on this date does not mean it will go well. I’m very charming, but it does take two to tango.”

“Magnus, remember what happened the last time you tried to tango. Your shoe flew off and nearly killed someone.”

“It was a metaphor. He’s a Shadowhunter, he’s a Lightwood, and he’s into blonds. He’s a dating hazard. I need an escape strategy. If the date is a complete disaster, I’ll text you. I’ll say ‘Blue Squirrel, this is Hot Fox. Mission to be aborted with extreme prejudice.’ Then you call me and you tell me that there is a terrible emergency that requires my expert warlock assistance.”

“This seems unnecessarily complicated. It’s your phone, Magnus; there’s no need for code names.”

“Fine. I’ll just text ‘Abort.’” Magnus reached out and drew his fingers from Chairman Meow’s head to his tail; Chairman Meow stretched and purred his enthusiastic approval of Magnus’s taste in men. “Will you help me?”

Catarina dragged in a long, annoyed breath. “I will help you,” she promised. “But you’ve called in all your dating favors for this century, and you owe me.”

“It’s a bargain,” said Magnus.

“And if it all works out,” said Catarina, cackling, “I want to be best woman at your wedding.”

“I’m hanging up now,” Magnus informed her.

He had made a bargain with Catarina. He had done more than that: he had called and made reservations at a restaurant. He had selected a date outfit of red Ferragamo pants, matching shoes, and a black silk waistcoat that Magnus wore without a shirt because it did amazing things for his arms and shoulders. And it had all been for nothing.

Alec was half an hour late. The probability was that Alec’s nerve had broken—that he had weighed his life, complete with his precious Shadowhunter duty, against a date with a guy he didn’t even like that much—and he was not coming at all.

Magnus shrugged philosophically, and with a casualness he did not quite feel, padded over to his drinks cabinet and made himself an exciting concoction with unicorn tears, energizing potion, cranberry juice, and a twist of lime. He’d look back on this and laugh one day. Probably tomorrow. Well, maybe the day after. Tomorrow he’d be hungover.

He might have jumped when the buzzer sounded through the loft, but there was nobody but Chairman Meow there to see. Magnus was perfectly composed by the time Alec ran up the stairs and hurtled through the door.

Alec could not have been described as perfectly composed. His black hair was going in every direction, like an octopus that had been dropped in soot; his chest was rising and falling hard under his pale-blue T-shirt; and there was a light sheen of perspiration on his face. It took a lot to make Shadowhunters sweat. Magnus wondered exactly how fast he had been running.

“Well, this is unexpected,” said Magnus, raising his eyebrows. Still holding his cat, he had flung himself lightly on the sofa, his legs hooked over one of the carved wooden arms. Chairman Meow was draped over his stomach and meowing in perplexity about the sudden change in his situation.

Magnus might have been trying a bit too hard to appear louche and unconcerned, but judging by Alec’s crestfallen expression, he was really pulling it off.

“I’m sorry I’m late,” Alec panted. “Jace wanted to do some weapons training, and I didn’t know how to get away—I mean, I couldn’t tell him—”

“Oh, Jace, that’s it,” said Magnus.

“What?” said Alec.

“I briefly forgot the blond one’s name,” Magnus explained, with a dismissive flick of his fingers.

Alec looked staggered. “Oh. I’m—I’m Alec.”

Magnus’s hand paused mid-dismissive-flick. The gleam of city lights through the window reflected off the blue jewels on his fingers, casting bright blue sparks that caught fire and then tumbled and drowned in the deep blue of Alec’s eyes.

Alec had made an effort, Magnus thought, though it took a trained eye to spot it. The light-blue shirt fit him considerably better than the unholy gray sweatshirt that Alec had been wearing on Tuesday. He smelled vaguely of cologne. Magnus felt unexpectedly touched.

“Yes,” said Magnus slowly, and then he smiled slowly as well. “Your name I remember.”

Alec smiled. Maybe it didn’t matter if Alec did have a little thing for Apparently-Jace. Apparently-Jace was beautiful, but he was the sort of person that knew it, and they were often more trouble than they were worth. If Jace was gold, catching the light and the attention, Alec was silver: so used to everyone else looking at Jace that that was where he looked too, so used to living in Jace’s shadow that he didn’t expect to be seen. Maybe it was enough to be the first person to tell Alec that he was worth being seen ahead of anyone in a room, and of being looked at longest.

And silver, though few people knew it, was a rarer metal than gold.

“Don’t worry about it,” said Magnus, swinging himself easily off the couch and pushing Chairman Meow gently onto the sofa cushions, to the Chairman’s plaintively voiced dismay. “Have a drink.”

He pushed his own drink hospitably into Alec’s hand; he hadn’t even taken a sip, and he could make himself a new one. Alec looked startled. He was obviously far more nervous than Magnus had thought, because he fumbled and then dropped the glass, spilling crimson liquid all over himself and the floor. There was a crash as the glass hit the wood and splintered.

Alec looked like he had been shot and was extremely embarrassed about it.

“Wow,” said Magnus. “Your people are really overselling your elite Nephilim reflexes.”

“Oh, by the Angel. I am so—I am so sorry.”

Magnus shook his head and gestured, leaving a trail of blue sparks in the air, and the puddle of crimson liquid and broken glass vanished.

“Don’t be sorry,” he said. “I’m a warlock. There’s no mess I can’t clean up. Why do you think I throw so many parties? Let me tell you, I wouldn’t do it if I had to scrub toilets myself. Have you ever seen a vampire throw up? Nasty.”

“I don’t really, uh, know any vampires socially.”

Alec’s eyes were wide and horrified, as if he was picturing debauched vampires throwing up the blood of the innocent. Magnus was prepared to bet he didn’t know any Downworlders socially. The Children of the Angel kept to their own kind.

Magnus wondered what exactly Alec was doing here in Magnus’s apartment. He bet Alec was wondering the same thing.

It might be a long night, but at least they could both be well-dressed. The T-shirt might show Alec was trying, but Magnus could do a lot better.

“I’ll get you a new shirt,” Magnus volunteered, and made his way to his bedroom while Alec was still faintly protesting.

Magnus’s closet took up half his bedroom. He kept meaning to enlarge it. There were a lot of clothes in it that Magnus thought would look excellent on Alec, but as he riffled through them, he realized that Alec might not appreciate Magnus imposing his unique fashion sense on him.

He decided to go for a more sober selection and chose the black T-shirt that he had been wearing Tuesday. That was perhaps a little sentimental of Magnus.

The shirt admittedly had blink if you want me written on it in sequins, but that was about as sober as Magnus got. He tugged the shirt off its hanger and waltzed back into the main room to find that Alec had already taken his own shirt off and was standing around somewhat helplessly, his stained shirt clenched in his fist.

Magnus stopped dead.

The room was illuminated only by a reading lamp; all the other light came from outside the windows. Alec was painted with streetlights and moonlight, shadows curling around his biceps and the slender indentations of his collarbones, his torso all smooth, sleek, bare skin until the dark line of his jeans. There were runes on the flat planes of his stomach and the silvery scars of old Marks snaked around his ribs, with one on the ridge of his hip. His head was bowed, his hair black as ink, his luminously pale skin white as paper. He looked like a piece of art, chiaroscuro, beautifully and wonderfully made.

Magnus had heard the story of how the Nephilim were created many times. They must have forgotten to leave out the bit that said: And the Angel descended from on high and gave his chosen ones fantastic abs.

Alec looked up at Magnus, and his lips parted as if he was going to speak. He watched Magnus with wide eyes, wondering at being watched.

Magnus exercised heroic self-control, smiled, and offered the shirt.

“I’m—sorry about being a lousy date,” Alec muttered.

“What are you talking about?” Magnus asked. “You’re a fantastic date. You’ve only been here ten minutes, and I already got half of your clothes off.”

Alec looked equal parts embarrassed and pleased. He’d told Magnus he was new to all this, so anything more than mild flirting might scare him off. Magnus had a very calm and normal date planned: no surprises, nothing unexpected.

I’ve just read The Course of True Love [and First Dates] (The Bane Chronicles #10) by by Cassandra Clare :) 

What can I say, for how much we waited it could be a little better, but I’m not disappointed. I mean, we found out all about the date. THE FIRST MALEC DATE!!! It’s important :) I loved how Alec was nervous, it was his first date after all. And I love that Magnus didn’t want to hurt him, even though they don’t really know each other (yet).

I’ll post a couple (like a LOT) quotes so if you still haven’t read it, stop now.

 “Did you agree to go out with him because you think the Lightwoods are jerks and you want to show them you can corrupt their baby boy?” asked Catarina.    
Magnus balanced his feet on Chairman Meow. “I do think the Lightwoods are jerks,” he admitted. “And that does sound like something I’d do. Damn it.”    
“No, it doesn’t really,” said Catarina. “You’re sarcastic twelve hours a day, but you’re almost never spiteful. You have a good heart under all the glitter.”

“No,” he said. “It’s probably a bad idea—it’s probably my worst idea this decade—but it had nothing to do with his parents at all. I said yes because of him.“

“Good luck on your date, then,” she said at last.    
“Much appreciated, but I don’t need good luck; I need assistance,” said Magnus. “Just because I’m going on this date does not mean it will go well. I’m very charming, but it does take two to tango.”    
“Magnus, remember what happened the last time you tried to tango. Your shoe flew off and nearly killed someone.”
“It was a metaphor. He’s a Shadowhunter, he’s a Lightwood, and he’s into blonds. He’s a dating hazard. I need an escape strategy. If the date is a complete disaster, I’ll text you. I’ll say ‘Blue Squirrel, this is Hot Fox. Mission to be aborted with extreme prejudice.’ Then you call me and you tell me that there is a terrible emergency that requires my expert warlock assistance.”    
“This seems unnecessarily complicated. It’s your phone, Magnus; there’s no need for code names.

He tugged the shirt off its hanger and waltzed back into the main room to find that Alec had already taken his own shirt off and was standing around somewhat helplessly, his stained shirt clenched in his fist.  
Magnus stopped dead.    

The room was illuminated only by a reading lamp; all the other light came from outside the windows. Alec was painted with streetlights and moonlight, shadows curling around his biceps and the slender indentations of his collarbones, his torso all smooth, sleek, bare skin until the dark line of his jeans. There were runes on the flat planes of his stomach and the silvery scars of old Marks snaked around his ribs, with one on the ridge of his hip. His head was bowed, his hair black as ink, his luminously pale skin white as paper. He looked like a piece of art, chiaroscuro, beautifully and wonderfully made.    
Magnus had heard the story of how the Nephilim were created many times. They must have forgotten to leave out the bit that said: And the Angel descended from on high and gave his chosen ones fantastic abs.

“I’m—sorry about being a lousy date,” Alec muttered.    “What are you talking about?” Magnus asked. “You’re a fantastic date. You’ve only been here ten minutes, and I already got half of your clothes off.”

“Dude!” he said. “I’m sorry! Seriously! I didn’t know you were a ninja!”    
Alec removed his boot, and cast a hunted glance around at the fascinated stares of the bystanders.  
“I’m not a ninja,” he muttered.

“That wallet bit me!”    
That’ll show you not to steal warlocks’ wallets, Magnus thought, bending down to retrieve the wallet from a forest of sparkling high heels on the concrete.    
Aloud he said, “This just isn’t your lucky night, is it?”    “Your wallet bites people?” Alec asked.
“This one bites people,” said Magnus, pocketing it. He was glad to have it back, not only because he liked money but because the wallet matched his red crocodile-skin pants. “The John Varvatos wallet bursts into flames.“

“You have been taught two important lessons about tolerance and honesty,” Magnus informed him severely. “And you still have all your fingers after trying to mug me on a first date, so this was the best outcome you could expect.”    
There was a murmur of sympathy. Magnus stared around and saw Alec looking a little wild-eyed and everyone else looking concerned. Apparently the crowd they had gathered truly believed in their love.    
“Aw, man, I’m really sorry,” said the mugger. “I wouldn’t want to mess up anybody’s first date with a ninja.

Magnus felt a burst of fondness in his chest; it felt like a small explosion, pleasant and startling at the same time. He liked how Alexander said the things that other people thought and never said. He liked how Alec called him Magnus, and not “warlock.” He liked how Alec’s shoulders moved under his jacket. (Sometimes he was shallow.)

“Don’t go in,” she whispered. “There’s a monster in there.” I am a monster, Magnus thought. And monsters are his specialty.    
He didn’t say it. Instead he said, “I don’t believe you,” and walked in. He meant it, too: the Shadowhunters, even Alec, might believe Magnus was a monster, but Magnus didn’t believe it himself. He’d taught himself not to believe it even though his mother, the man he’d called his father, and a thousand others had told him it was true. 

Magnus noted, with slight puzzlement, that whenever Magnus tried to edge ahead, Alec put out an arm or moved slightly faster, staying in front of Magnus in a protective stance.

“Oh, stupid Shadowhunters,” Magnus moaned under his breath. But Alec used his own body hitting the wall as leverage, rebounding off the wall and up, catching a sparkling chandelier and swinging, then dropping down as lightly as a leaping cat and crouching to attack again in one smooth movement. “Stupid, sexy Shadowhunters.”

Magnus gave Alec a sidelong look as they climbed the rickety stairs. Alec caught the glance, and his breathing quickened; his blue eyes were bright. Alec bit his lower lip, and Magnus stopped walking.    
It was only a momentary hesitation. But then Alec reached out and caught his arm, fingers tight above his elbow.     “Magnus,” he said in a low voice.    
Magnus realized that Alec was mirroring the way Magnus had taken hold of Alec’s arms on Tuesday: on the day of Alec’s first kiss.    Magnus’s breath caught in his throat.    That was apparently all the encouragement Alec needed. He leaned in, expression open and ardent in the darkness of the stairs, in the hush of this moment. Alec’s mouth met Magnus’s, soft and gentle. Getting his breath back was an impossibility, and no longer a priority.
….
Leaving Alec was the last thing he wanted to do right now. He pulled in Alec by the belt loops of his jeans, closed all distance between their bodies and caught Alec’s tiny needful gasp with his mouth.    The kiss caught fire and all he could see behind his closed eyes were gold sparks; all he was aware of was Alec’s mouth, Alec’s strong gentle hands that had held down a werewolf and tried not to hurt her, Alec pressing him against the banister so the rotten wood creaked alarmingly and Magnus did not even care,—Alec here, Alec now, the taste of Alec in his mouth, his hands pushing aside the fabric of his own worn T-shirt to get at Alec’s bare skin underneath.

Alec looked instantly worried, as if he thought Magnus was going to take it all back and say that actually he had changed his mind. He was beautiful and hopeful and hesitant, a heartbreaker who wore his heart on his sleeve. Magnus found himself wanting to show his hand, to take a risk and be vulnerable. He recognized and accepted this strange new feeling: that he would rather be hurt himself than hurt Alec.

He had been taught so many times that hope was foolish, but he could not help it, as heedless as a child straying close to the fire and stubbornly refusing to learn from experience. Maybe this time was different—maybe this love was different. It felt so different; surely that had to mean something. Maybe the year to come would be a good year for both of them. Maybe this time things would work out the way Magnus wanted them to.    
Maybe Alexander Lightwood would not break his heart.