#this one is inspired by a prompt I saw somewhere else

[savanir]

DP x DC prompt [4]

It is known in the Justice league that Phantom’s mentor in the Infinite Realms is a very powerful time deity.

What that means for them is that sometimes that mentor sends Phantom on time related missions.

More often than not these turn out to be simple fetch quests, but sometimes they can get a little more complicated. 

And to mostly Batman’s frustration, they don’t really know that’s the case until after the fact.

The other thing is that Phantom knows the Flashes quite well, and not always in a positive way. but that’s not the point right now.

Right now the problem is that Phantom apparently said something Green Lantern was about to say before he said it. Their hearts drop as his moves look rather rehearsed, questions are answered before they get properly asked, he knows who comes into the room and when, and who is going to go where and overall he just looks… tired.

It’s then that most of them have figured out they are about to start a day Phantom has been redoing far too many times.

—

Danny also walked up to Superman and slapped his sandwich out of his hand and said “don’t eat that” and Superman is thinking, “what did that sandwich do to me?” but this was actually not time related. Danny just wanted to mess with the guy.

[themillsdaughter]

a privilege I deprive myself of

Synopsis: you would rather chew glass than see Melissa yearn for something and not have it delivered to her. the thing, however, is that your life is a shitshow, and what was meant to be an act of kindness upends any effort you've made throughout the years to keep your feelings hidden.

or slightly insecure! Melissa and traumatized! reader in a Valentine's Day au inspired by this prompt.

Words: 3.9k

Warnings: Talks of body image.

Also, my first time dabbling in this fandom and character, so... Hope you like it!

This isn’t ideal.

Valentine's Day has never been your favorite. Truthfully, you think it’s only yet another excuse for Capitalism to suck some extra cash out of millions of pockets.

You’ve thought this your entire life, regardless of being in a relationship or not. The thing, however, is that you live in a capitalist society and escaping the emotional reliance on the holiday is damn near impossible. So, throughout the years, you’ve come to terms with at least doing something for partners on the day.

Well, that is, until you’d walked in your apartment one day and found your girlfriend straddling a woman you’d never seen before.

This year, you’re single, so the whole thing had just slipped into the background, a red and pink festival more than anything else, really.

“You’re not doing anything?” Janine had asked a few days before in the teachers' lounge, brow furrowed, pity shining in her eyes. Dear God. “You know, Galentine’s Day is really popular now.”

“Honey, I barely want to celebrate the day when I have someone. Why would I make a fuss now that I have an out?” You’d gone back to grading, trying your damnest not to roll your eyes.

“Well, Tariq used to be like that, too. Even though we were together. Sometimes he would forget and go on trips, and those times were pretty lonely… You know, with all the hearts and chocolate and candles and couples around. Not that that’s the case this year, you know. I’m with Maurice, and he’s super attentive.” Her uncomfortable fidgeting had made her chair squeak. As sweet as she is, she should really learn how to stop projecting. “Anyways, I just worry about you. I don’t want you to feel lonely.”

“I don’t.”

“She doesn’t.” Melissa had said, at the same time as you. Looking up from the papers, you’d shared a grin with her. “She has enough wondering thoughts to keep her company.”

Finally, you’d given into your urge and rolled your eyes.

So this really isn’t ideal.

“I think this one is too tight, though.” The voice coming from your phone said. You turned the heat from the stove down, placed a half-lid over the pan, and picked up the device from the counter. On the screen, you saw something that made you pull out a stool from your island and thank God that the woman on the other side of the line was too busy looking at herself in the mirror, brows furiously furrowed, to notice.

Melissa had her hair up in a messy bun, her old pair of glasses hanging in the middle of her nose, and a dark red dress on that stole the breath from your lungs.

The material was soft, with satin-like finish, puffy long sleeves, a square neckline that showed her cleavage to perfection and a skirt that hit her a few inches above her knees.

Nervously, her hands tried to smooth over the creases formed on the dress by her belly.

“Maybe I could wear some spanks” she sighed. “It’s too tight, right?” She turned back to where the phone was, asking you directly.

For a few seconds, you struggled to think of something other than ‘uh’ to say. Melissa is stunning and, in those moments, you wished you’d been braver back when you’d had the chance. Maybe, she’d be asking Barbara this, getting ready as a surprise for you, not for somebody else. 

In a breath, you swallowed that feeling, locking it away with all the ones of its kind, somewhere deep, deep in your soul.

“Hun? It’s too tight, isn’t it? Who the fuck do I think I am trying on something like this.” She’d taken your silence as disapproval, and if she only knew you’d only want to see that off of her if you’d taken it out yourself…

“Shut up, will you?” You finally said. “It’s gorgeous, it looks awesome on you.”

“Yeah?”

“It’s the nicest one of the bunch.”

“I don’t know if I have spanks short enough for it, though. And I need something to get this under control.” She pushed her belly in again, and it enraged you.

“Anyone who doesn’t find that hot is not someone you should listen to.” You said, holding back the rant that always appeared on the tip of your tongue when she said shit like this.

Honestly, the struggle of straight men to like women is mind-boggling.

“You might just be too gay for this.” Melissa snorted, going into her drawer in search of the spanks.

“Well, fuck you very much.”

She barked out a laugh, and you let go of your phone to stir the food you were cooking, glad for a break from the glory of the woman you did not love like that.

Which is yet another reason why this isn’t ideal.

You don’t really care for Valentine's Day, but on the morning of the 14th, Melissa had seemed off. You tried touching on the subject while you two got coffee, as weak as Abbott’s brew always was, however, Gary walked in in all of his mustached glory and her attention immediately shifted to him.

He’s her boyfriend, it’s Valentine's Day, it was only logical.

She gave him hint after hint, pushed her shoulders a bit back, highlighting her breasts just slightly, cocked her hips some while leaning against the sink, licked her lips more than usual, everything to get an ounce of attention back. The absolute idiot fussed over the vending machine, mumbled a few words to her, eyes not even moving in her direction, before leaving with a “see ya later” tossed behind him.

The look that had taken over her face then had made your heart sink.

“He’s been like this all week.” She said during lunch break in your car. “Barbara thinks he might be planning something, says he’s not cheating, but I don’t know… I tried fooling myself with getting the perfect outfit, getting my hair and my nails done, but he hasn’t mentioned any plans, and he’s been so fucking distant, he doesn’t even seem like himself. And I really can’t handle another Joe situation.” Taking the last bite of the Shepard’s pie you’d brought her, she leaned her head against the rest.

To nearly everybody else here, she shows her angry, reactive, gray side. It’s easier for her, something that still makes her an outcast, but firmly protects her inner-self. But some magical, all-powerful, incredible being out there had made it so you were the one she chose to show her other side to, the one that is not always confident, not in her worth or her looks or her ability as a teacher.

The one that loves so intensely it scares her, and the one that has so many scars she spends half her time trying to heal them, or, at the very least, stop them from bleeding all over the place and being visible to the outside world.

“What do you think?” She said, bringing you back to the inside of your 2010s Honda. “You’ve always been better at these things.”

“Do I think he’s cheating on you?”

She nodded.

“Well, first of all, if he is, he is an absolute deepshit who doesn’t know how to count his blessing for you even giving him the time of day.”

You looked into her eyes while you said it, and she turned her head after, staring at the Tupperware in her hands. You thought you saw a blush creeping up on her cheeks.

“But I don’t think he is. Hey, maybe he’s just seen Valentine’s Day for what it is!” You nudged her arm with the back of your hand. “Maybe you’re the one who has to get on board.”

She relented a smile then, but it didn’t last.

“Mel, I think you’ll just have to ride this one out. Wait until the end of the day, so then you can actually have a conversation with him. If he really forgot or if there’s really something wrong, you’ll find out, but, honestly, me? I think he might just have some goofy-ass surprise planned.”

Melissa nodded while keeping her gaze out the window.

There’s a beat, then another, and you thought perhaps you’d convinced her, and she was only taking some time to absorb it.

“You know, you may not feel lonely with this kind of stuff, but…” She paused, voice tired, heart bearing all those tender scars, “I think I’m more like Janine than I’d thought.”

So, hm, this isn’t ideal.

You’d be damned if you let a man who didn’t realize the one in a million he had found ruin Melissa’s day.

Even if Valentine’s Day was traumatic for you, even if it was silly and forced and the world would be better off without it, Melissa was Melissa, and she deserved everything she wanted out of life. You’d thought Gary would see it, but if he didn’t, it’s up to you, even with all your emotional limitations.

So you wrote a little card. Nothing much, just made out of a fancier piece of purple paper you’d had lying around the classroom, with a heart-sticker you’d found at the bottom of your purse decorating the front page. Inside, the note wasn’t all that special, just enough for her to know she would never be alone. That you loved her. That she’d always have you, even if one day she didn’t have anyone else. That she’s your favorite, and if she wanted to, you’d take her out for dinner yourself.

As a friend, of course. Truly.

The fact she made your chest inflate and your pressure drop and a flock of butterflies run a full marathon in your stomach were not things that were included.

After sending the students home, saying goodbye to everyone else (Gregory and his Legos, Janine and her designer bag she knew nothing about, Ava and her many flings and Jacob and his slam poetry), you’d walked to the lounge, where you’d seen Barb and Mel walking towards only a few minutes earlier.

On the way there, you’d seen a bouquet of gerberas discarded on the hallway floor. You’d wondered if a poor kid had gotten broken up with on that day of all days, or if the bouquet held any card of its own. You’d picked it up, deciding to bring it to the compost pile later.

You hadn’t realized how it looked until it had been too late.

“Hey, Mel, I have something for…” You’d started, rounding the corner to enter the room.

“I love you too.” She’d said, looking into Gary’s eyes. In a split second, you’d registered there was something off about her voice, something lacking.

And now here you are, in this less than ideal situation.

All three look at you, standing in the doorway with a card and flowers, calling after another person’s girlfriend. Shit.

“What do you have for her?” Gary’s hand tightens on her waist just so.

So, yeah. Not fucking ideal.

“Hey, look at that. I uh…actually forgot the… ah… The book I was lending you.” You mumble. Spinning on your heels, you walk as fast as humanly possible without breaking into a sprint.

Stupid-ass, invented, asinine holiday.

******

You’re more than half-way through a bottle of Merlot when your doorbell rings.

“Fucking finally!” You shout, jumping from your couch, your belly clenching painfully. Opening up your front door, though, your shoulders drop. “You’re not Postmates.”

“No, I am not. You know what else I also am not? Enjoying this beautiful night with my husband.” Barbara floods you with words, walking past you into the living room.

“Why is that, exactly?” And maybe you’re starting to get drunk, because she seems furious with you, and you can’t remember the last time that ever happened.

“Because I cannot possibly enjoy what was supposed to be a romantic moment with Gerald when I get a desperate phone call from my best friend’s partner asking me if I know where she is.”

It’s too many words too fast, so you sit back down and blink hard, trying to focus.

“What are you talking about?”

“Gary called me. He doesn’t know where Melissa is.”

Melissa. Suddenly, the reason you’d started drinking comes back to you. Shit. Shit shit shit.

“Have you seen her?” Barbara seems to take pity on you, be it for your drunkenness or the way your face scrunches up at the name.

“Not since this afternoon, no. What happened?”

“Gary says she went after you, came back in a different mood. Then they got into an argument in the middle of dinner, because she didn’t seem to be enjoying it, which is strange considering she spent the day worrying he wouldn’t do anything special, as we both know.” She sits down on the futon in front of you. “He says she broke up with him right then and there, and left.”

What?

“What?”

“I don’t understand it either. What did you say to her in the hallway?”

“Nothing, I didn’t talk to her in the hallway, or at all.”

Barbara looks away, shaking her head with an incredulous smile on her lips.

“You two are… God forgive me, but infuriating.” She turns back, sighing. “Did she text you? I’ve called and called, but she hasn’t picked up. She’s not at her house, either.”

“I don’t know.” You pull your phone from the middle of the cushions. “It’s been on focus mode the whole night, I only got notifications for my food.”

“Can you try her? Maybe she’ll pick up if it’s you.”

“You’re starting to freak me out.”

“Yes, well, at least we’ll be on the same page.”

The line rings three times before going to voicemail. Then, there’s someone pressing your doorbell again. Your stomach aches.

Again, not Postmates.

“You’re an asshole!” It’s the first thing out of Melissa’s mouth. As the second person today pushes her way into your home, Barbara jumps up from her seat.

“You’re alive, you’re whole?” She turns Melissa over, taking advantage of the woman’s confusion at seeing her here. “Are you stupidly drunk?”

“Uh… No. Why…”

“Are you going to make any decisions that might land you in jail?”

“No.”

“Thank you, Jesus!” Barbara shouts, letting go of the redhead, lifting her hands in praise, and walking to the door. “Please, resolve your issues and let me have my steak in peace. I’ll call your boy-“ She looks Melissa over. “I’ll call Gary, let him know you’re okay. Goodbye. Also, you’re both on probation until further notice.”

She closes the door behind her with a bang, and the two of you are left alone, staring at each other.

Her make-up is smudged, as if she’d been crying, and that beautiful, beautiful red dress shines under the light. The vision worries you at the same time it sets the butterflies off.

Once more, with feeling: this is not ideal.

It feels like forever goes by, just like this, with neither of you moving or speaking or looking away.

Until she unclenches her fist, and you see your card, the one you’d lost on your rush to leave.

“You couldn’t have picked a better moment?” Melissa asks, placing the piece of paper on your entrance table. Her anger, so explosive moments ago, is low and dangerous now, simmering with the hurt in her eyes.

“Listen, I know how it looked-“

“Any other moment.” She keeps going, incapable of stopping now that she’s started. “Maybe one of the endless times when we sat on that fucking couch watching those boring movies you like. Or… Or maybe one of the nights when we spent hours pouring over project ideas or education strategies. Or really any other time before I made the decision to move on.”

Her heart is there, right in front of you, in the tears that drown the gorgeous green of her irises. Somehow, you feel like this is the cataclysm of thoughts and words and feelings you had both held back for years. 

“What?” You mumble for the second time tonight.

“I found every excuse in the book to avoid this, to avoid looking for someone else. And some of it was true, really. Joe did a number on me, which you know – which is why that just hurt worse.” She points to the card, bent in half and slightly crumbled. “But most of it was crap, and I knew it was crap, but I convinced myself it wasn’t because you weren’t ready, but you are amazing, and maybe it was better to wait just a little longer to see if you ever got your shit together, if you ever got over what that ex of yours did. But you never, ever did.”

“Melissa, the flowers…”

“Yeah, gerberas, my favorites, I know. That was a nice touch. You probably knew he wouldn’t remember that detail.”

“No, Mel, I didn’t buy them.” You step forward, past the table, close enough to reach out and touch her arm, if you were brave enough. You never are.

“What, are you gonna tell me you grew them too?” She snorts, humorlessly. “You know, the worst part is that you encouraged me. You told me to go after him, to let him woo me. Even this morning! You told me to wait for him, just to pull this crap.”

She raises her hand, wipes her eyes, and Christ, what the hell have you done?

She breathes in, and it would be wondrous if it weren’t terrifying, how she puts her heart away, takes the part reserved just for you to see and hides it from view.

“I’ve been in love with you for longer than I know, and this whole time you’ve been leading me on, never really letting me go, no, but still pushing me away.”

In love you with you. In love you with you.

I’ve been in love with you for longer than I know.

It reverberates inside your brain as if an echo in a museum. In love with you.

The person who lights up your days without a fail, the woman who’s made every single potential partner pale in comparison, a staple in your life so important that the mere thought of risking something that could make you lose her had forced you to bury all warm and fuzzy feelings. That woman. This woman. Melissa. Your Melissa. In love with you.

You feel your past is too broken to believe her, but still the thought of her being this hurt is unacceptable.

“Mel, I didn’t write the card to steal you away.”

You risk it now, because you feel her slipping through your fingers, and not seeing her heart when she looks into your eyes makes you feel the loneliest you ever have. You risk reaching over, placing one hand on each of her upper arms. The fabric there is so soft it surprises you.

She flinches, but allows it.

“Just to keep me from giving up, right?”

“You know me better than that.” You try, throat tight. You damn sure hope she does. “I wrote it because you seemed really hurt, and just in case Gary messed up, I wanted you to know you at least had me. You’ll always have me.”

She shakes her head, eyes welling up again.

“What a great pal you are.” Melissa whispers.

“I found the fucking flowers on the floor, I was gonna take them to the trash.” You lose your patience for a split second, because maybe you were tactless, but this is a bit too far, even for such a stubborn woman.

She raises a brow.

“I’m not trying to cover my ass.”

“’You’re the person I think about the most’” She quotes the card. “Did you mean that?”

“Of course.” You say without a thought.

“As a friend?” She challenges.

No. Yes. Maybe. It’s on the tip of your tongue.

If you risk this next step, will you lose her eventually? Like you have every other woman you have loved like this? Will you lose yet another person, yet another soul you feel you can rest beside?

You let your hands travel down slightly.

“Mostly.” She breaks eye contact, frowning. “I cherish our friendship so much, Melissa. But part of me wanted to say more. To say things that weren’t purely platonic. I didn’t mean to steer you around.” You sigh. This is… a lot. “I want to see you happy, Mel. More than anything in the world, you deserve that. And I just felt like allowing myself to feel all those things for you would jeopardize that. You’re an explosive, hot-headed, weird, outlaw Italian with a great mind and a huge, huge heart, and you’re definitely too good for me.”

She shakes her head again, but looking at those amazing, gorgeous, breathtaking green orbs, you find a glimpse of that other side of hers, even if the tears are still there, hiding underneath the surface.

“Today, I only wanted to make sure you would be okay. And I’m sorry about the misunderstanding. I truly didn’t want to ruin that moment for you.” Finally, you reach her hands, and she holds yours back. You fit. “And I have only ever encouraged you to go out there because I really believe you deserve to have the fullest life you can possibly have, and that’s probably with someone… less damaged. Someone good and kind. Someone like Gary.”

Melissa mumbles to herself in Italian.

Forse sarebbe più facile.

“But I don’t love Gary.” She says simply, in English, relaxing into your touch, sending your blood pressure through the roof.

I’ve been in love with you for longer than I know.

“I know.” You say.

You had seen it in her eyes when she’d returned his declaration earlier, the emptiness, the masking, the guilt for lying. She wanted to love him so badly.

She’d looked at you back then and, for a split second, before the confusion and embarrassment that had followed, she’d seemed relieved, as if saying there’s the one who sees me. And something more.

Now, the something more is clearer.

“I know you’re scared.” She whispers again. “And you always, always try to protect me from these things. Never when I get myself mixed up with family business or get into fights…”

“Well, I trust your right hook for that.” You can’t help yourself. She snorts very, very softly, and maybe there’s hope yet.

“But you always try to keep me safe from this, even from you.” Melissa lets go of one your hands, placing a palm against your cheek. Oh, so that’s what it means to have a heart attack. “But I have never, ever, been afraid of your baggage, you jackass.” The spark of defiance that flashes through her expression pulls a smile from you.

If someone had asked you yesterday if this happening was something you thought possible, you’d have laugh them out of the room.

“I just wish you’d given me that god-damn card before I’d wasted this dress on somebody else and had broken a man’s heart for nothing.”

“Poor Gary,” you whisper.

“Yeah… Poor Gary.”

So, perhaps it’s not ideal, with the tears and heartache and being on Barb’s bad side, but she leans up on her tip toes, squeezing your hand, palm migrating down to hold your neck, and despite not being ideal, it does feel oddly right.

“I don’t give a fuck if you hate Valentine’s Day and you think this is corny. You better kiss me before I lose my nerve, or I swear to…”

For the first time in your adult life, you forgo your mind, trying something with risks that may far outweigh the good. With a tug, you pull her in, leaning down, breath catching in your throat when your lips connect, and you find you don’t give two shits about the risks.

Heaven.

Of course, your doorbell rings not five seconds later. Fucking Postmates.

[morgana-larkin]

Ok so I had an idea, it might be stupid but here’s the summary: one of Melissa’s first students became a teacher and got a job at Abbott as a first grade teacher. Melissa becomes interested in her right away.

On another note: dudes, I’ve noticed I don’t get as much notice on my Chessy fics and I’m not understanding, she the original gay icon from Lisa Ann Walter. Also almost no notice on my Marilyn Thornhill x reader fic. I’ll be doing worth it then a sexy Mel firefighter prompt😉

Playing Favourite

Warnings: smut, Mel being a tease

Words: 2.9k

You walk into the doors of Abbott Elementary and you stop to take a look. Been awhile since you last step foot in here, last time was when you were graduating grade 8, about 10 years ago. You’ve gone from graduating from Abbott to teaching there, full circle as they say.

You got your teaching badge and classroom key and then you head to the staff lounge. You open the door with a smile and look around in amazement. You never saw this room, the one place students couldn’t enter. You look and see a few teachers staring at you confused. You just walk in and go to the fridge to put your lunch in and you freeze.

“Ms. Schemmenti?” You say and she looks at you even more confused.

“Who are you?” She asked.

“Oh sorry, I guess I look a bit different. My name is y/n y/l/n. You might not remember me actually, I was in your class when you first started working here.” You tell her and she smiles.

“Of course, I remember you now. What are you doing here?” She asks.

You showed her your teaching badge. “I work here now.” You tell her proudly and walk over to her. “You actually inspired me to become a teacher. I just saw the way you loved teaching and I thought it’d be great to love your job so much and I always loved helping people out.” You tell her. “Ms Howard, you’re both still here. I don’t recognize anyone else here.”

“They all left dear.” Barb tells you. “And you’re a fellow teacher here now. Call me Barb.” She tells you.

“Barb…wow, that felt weird.” You say with a chuckle and she smiles at you. You then go and put your lunch in the fridge and then make a coffee. “Anyone else want one, I’m making a new pot.” You ask the room. Melissa gets up and stands next to you with her coffee mug.

“I’ll take one hon.” She tells you and you smile at her. “I’m proud of you, I knew you’d make a great teacher.” She tells you while you put coffee in her mug.

“Really?” You ask her and stare at her with wide eyes and she nods. “You might not have known but you were my favourite teacher.” You tell her and she rubs your shoulder.

“Thank you, it makes me happy to hear that.” She tells you and goes to sit down. When you’re done making your coffee, you get invited to sit with the trio and they all introduce themselves when you do.

“So y/n, what was Melissa like when she taught you?” Janine asks you.

“Well… she was always caring of all her students. And every year I was here, I saw that never changed.” You tell them and then go on and recall more moments that you remember from second grade and Melissa.

When it was close to 8am, you all make your way to the gym for the welcome back presentation. You walk in and see Barb and Melissa going to sit down somewhere and the trio going to get good seats near the front. The trio invited you to sit with them but you saw Melissa and Barb sitting in one of the middle rows and you make your way over there. You go in from the other side and walk over and sit down beside Melissa and she looks up from her phone to look at you.

“Hope it’s alright that I sit beside you.” you tell her and she smiles.

“Of course not hon.” She says and takes a candy from her bag, unwraps it and plops it in her mouth.

“I knew you had a candy stash.” You tell her and she looks over at you confused. “Whenever one of us was crying, you always gave a piece of candy to make them feel better along with a small pep talk.” You tell her and she smiles.

“Want one?” She asks and hands you a piece of candy. You take the candy with a smile.

“Sure, thank you Ms Schemmenti.” You say and she rolls her eyes as you pop the candy in your mouth.

“Hon, I’m not your teacher anymore, I’m your co worker, you can call me by my first name.” She tells you and you look at her confused. “Do you not know what my first name is?” She asks you and you shake your head. “It’s Melissa.”

“Melissa… that sounds weird.” You say and she tilts her head at you and you mentally facepalm. “Not that your name is weird. Just that I’m used to knowing you as Ms Schemmenti.” You rush out and she chuckles.

“I get it. When you’re used to something a certain way then it’s weird when it changes.” She tells you.

The presentation starts and you see that Melissa and Barb aren’t really paying attention. Barb is mostly focused on crossword puzzles, and Melissa on eating candy and her phone. She does keep offering you some during the 2 hour presentation, to which you always accept.

When Ava was showing selfies of her summer vacation, Melissa leaned over to you. “So where’s your classroom?” She asks you.

You look at your papers and see. “Ummm…” You look and she grabs one of the papers and sees.

“Oh, you’re right next to mine.” She tells you. “You’re a first grade teacher?” She says and you nod.

“You know we end up doing some things with the first graders during the year. I don’t know if you remember.” She tells you and you think about it.

“I remember doing some project with a bunny…or was it a rabbit.” You say and she grins.

“Peter rabbit.” She says and you smile and nod. “I still do that project.” She tells you and you smile.

“Really? Oh I would love to collaborate on that if you want. It’s a cute story.” You say while looking at what Ava is saying and she blushes.

A few hours later you’re decorating your classroom when you hear a few curses from next door. You walk over and knock on the door. A few seconds later Melissa opens the door and smiles when she sees it’s you.

“Everything alright in here? I heard, what I think is cursing.” You tell her and she sighs and nods.

“Ya, just having some trouble hanging something up. It’s a bit wide and everytime I go to hang up one side, the other one comes off cause it can’t support the weight.” She tells you.

“Do you need some help?” You offer and she smiles.

“If you don’t mind then I would appreciate it.” She says and she lets you in.

“Wow.” You say as you walk in her classroom. “It’s changed but still some things are the same.” You say as you look around the room.

“Was I really your favourite teacher? I mean you aren’t just saying that?” She asks and you look at her.

“Ya of course. I don’t really remember my other teachers that much, but I remember you. I sorta remember Barb but you don’t see me telling her that she was my favourite.” You joke a bit and she laughs.

“Well you could have without me knowing.” She tells you and you chuckle. You go over to one side of the poster that she needs help with and pin it up and then hold it while she pins the other side. “Well thanks for the help, I can’t wait to see you with the students. And it’s been great seeing you again.” She says to you and you smile.

“You as well.” You tell her and then go back to your classroom.

*2 months later*

Melissa opens her door and sees you there with a bag and a frustrated expression on your face. “Hey y/n.” She tells you with a quirked eyebrow.

“I need your help with my Halloween costume.” You say, straight to the point and she giggles.

“Alright come on in.” She says and steps aside to let you in her house. “Who are you going as?” She asks.

You and Melissa have gotten closer over the past 2 months. She didn’t give you the cold shoulder even though you’re new since you were one of her first students. She’s gotten to know who you are and the both of you have been slowly falling for each other. Neither of you will admit it though since you’re both stubborn and don’t want to possibly ruin the friendship.

“Ok well you know how you said you’re going as Penelope Featherington?” You start and she nods her head. “Well I thought I’d go as Eloise Bridgerton.” You tell her and she laughs.

“And what exactly are you having trouble with?” She asks you sigh.

“I can’t figure out how to put on the clothes.” You tell her with a pout. She giggles as your pout and walks up to you.

“Alright, well we can both get ready and help each other out.” She tells you and you smile.

You both get your costumes ready and laid out. You begin to put the corset on and she comes to tie it up. She sees all your skin on display and since you’re standing in front of the mirror, she sees a good amount of cleavage as well. She loops the string in the last few holes before beginning to tighten it.

“Is that too tight?” She asks and you shake your head.

“No, that’s perfect.” You tell her and she ties it together. She then helps you put the dress on and accidentally brushes one of your breasts and you gasp.

“Sorry.”

“Oh, it’s- it’s ok, just surprised me is all.” You rush out.

You then help her with her corset. You both really should have accounted for her chest, as when tightening it, one of them slips out and you both freeze. You stare at it through the mirror and your brain stops working. She tucks it back in and you’re still staring at where it was and your cheeks are redder than her hair. She sees your reaction and she turns around to face you.

“Did you like what you saw?” She asks, with a bit of a teasing tone and you nod.

“It looked perfect.” You breathe out and she can see your breathing has gotten heavy. She takes a step towards you and she’s right in front of you, it wouldn't take much to lean forward and kiss her.

“Y/n, are you attracted to me?” She asks cautiously. You widen your eyes and you don’t know what to say. All you have the brain function to do is nod. “Well that’s perfect because I’m attracted to you too.” She tells you with a smile.

“Really?” You say in disbelief and she nods.

“Ya, and I just want to say that I’ve been wanting to kiss you for a couple weeks now.” She tells you and you lean forward a bit and she closes the gap. She puts a hand on the back of your head and you put one on her cheek. You both pull back after a few seconds and you stare at each other before going right back and make out. She walks forward a bit while still kissing you and your back hits a wall. She puts both her hands on the wall, one beside your head and the other beside your waist. You have both your arms wrapped around her neck to keep her where she is and open your mouth a bit to let her tongue slip in.

At one point she puts her hand on your waist and gives it a small squeeze and you moan. You pull back when you need to breath and look at her as you try and bring oxygen back to your brain.

“Do you kiss all your former students?” You tease and she smiles.

“Can’t say I have, you’re the only one.” She tells you. “Do you kiss all your former teachers?” She teases back.

“Only my favourite teacher.” You say and she lunges forward to capture your lips again. She moves her hands downward near your ass and cups it when she gets there. She then gets you to hop up and wrap your legs around her and you do just that. She then pins you against the wall harder and goes for your neck.

She then gets some of her control back and she pulls back to look at you. “Do you want to continue with this or do you want to stop here? Cause I’ll tell you right now that if we continue then I’ll want to go all the way.” She tells you bluntly.

“Then let’s go all the way.” You tell her and she carries you to her bedroom and lays you on the bed and continues kissing you. You then get an idea when she goes back to kissing your neck. You get her to pull back and look at her. “I know you said to call you Melissa, but right now I just want to call you Ms Schemmenti.” You tell her and she smiles and shakes her head.

“Oh, do you want to be disciplined then?” She asks, playing along.

“Perhaps.” You say.

“I mean you have been bad. Having dirty thoughts about your teacher, showing up in sexy clothes to get her attention.” She tells you and blush. “Oh don’t think I haven’t noticed your wardrobe change in the past few weeks.” She tells you.

“So it worked then.” You say proudly.

“Oh, it definitely worked.” She says and kisses you again. She then reaches under your dress and pulls your underwear down and throws it somewhere. She then goes under your dress and connects her mouth with your pussy.

You feel her tongue on you and you gasp. You can’t see her, all you do is feel her and she definitely knows how to please a woman with her tongue. You grab the headboard behind you and you buck your hips. She then moves her mouth to your clit and you moan and buck your hips again. She then slips a finger in and you gasp out. She pops her head out from under your dress and looks at you with wet lips.

“How should I discipline you?” She asks you and you just whine as she’s still fingering you. She adds another finger and your eyes are shut closed. She expertly takes her underwear off and goes in her nightstand to get her strap on. She somehow is able to put it on with one hand and then she pulls out of you, much to your reluctance. She pulls your dress off and then she pulls one of your breasts out of the corset top and wraps her mouth around the nipple. She pulls back after a few seconds and looks at you. “I’m going to get in a sitting position and you're going to settle yourself on my strap and ride it.” She tells you and you look down and realise that she put a strap on and you nod.

She goes to sit and you climb on her lap and then slowly go down on the strap, taking the whole thing in you. You then start to go back and forth on it, riding the strap and wrap your arms around her neck and look at her. She grabs your hips and helps you ride her and she feels it rubbing her clit.

“Yes, ride my strap, take your discipline like a good girl.” She tells you and you moan.

“Yes Ms Schemmenti, I’ll be good.” You tell her and she groans. She slips a finger down to your clit and applies pressure and you gasp out and pull her body closer to you. She pulls you in and kisses you and you feel yourself close to coming. “Omg, I’m so close Miss.” You gasp out and she moans.

“I’m close as well, go on baby, come with me.” She says and seconds later you come and she comes right after you. You stop riding her strap and you get off of her. She holds you to her and you’re both trying to catch your breath. While doing that, you hear a knock at the door and you look at the time and realise it’s probably some of the early trick or treaters. “Ignore them, I’m more interested in this treat.” She says and points to you and you giggle.

“I do have to get ready though. I have a Halloween party to get too.” You say to her and go to get up.

“Nooo, but I want you here and don’t want to let you go.” Melissa says to you as she holds you tight and you giggle.

“Well how about you come with me, and then I can come back here with you.” You suggested and she smiled as she accepted your offer.

“Ok deal.” She tells you and then the two of you get ready and go to the party.

Taglist: @esposadejoyhuerta

@imaginesmultifandoms

@idonothingalldays-blog

@sexysapphicshopowner

@dvrkhcld

@lilfartbox1

@ricejucie

@unicorniusfallapatorius

@a-queen-and-her-throne

@sleep-deprived-athlete

@og-kxsh-420

Let me know if you want to be added!

[cottonlemonade]

hi😁 i thought long hard about this and i came to a decision of a large mango with boba for issei🙇🏽‍♀️ mwuah

Noisy Neighbors

word count: 603 || avg. reading time: 3 mins.

pairing: post-time skip husband!Issei Matsukawa x chubby!Reader

genre: fluff and smut

warnings: mdni, nsfw, mentions of overstimulation

request: fluffy spicy, clingy husband Mattsun

“There, all done!“

“Look at us, being accomplished adults and everything.“

You high fived your husband.

After many weeks of driving back and forth you finally managed to move into your new house and today you both trampled the last battered, empty moving box.

With a happy squeak you threw your arms around Issei‘s neck, having to hop and balance on your tiptoes to accomplish such a feat.

You gave him a kiss and let your hands wander from his shoulders down to his butt, giving it a quick squeeze, then wanted to let go to get started on a late lunch but Issei pulled you back for another, much more indecent kiss.

You laughed against his lips when you felt something hard press against your plush thigh.

“Can‘t believe that‘s all it takes for you.“, you teased.

“Baby, anything you do is an aphrodisiac to me.“

You leaned back a bit, in thought, playing with his hair in the back of his neck.

“What if I‘m pigging on a burger and have sauce all over my face?“

Issei gave you a superior grin, cupping your cheek, “There isn‘t enough fast food in the world to ever turn me off my wife.“

Leaning down, he began kissing your neck.

“Oh, you‘re about to get sooo lucky.“, you beamed.

“I already am.“, he murmured into your skin.

Making a sound somewhere between a giggle and a moan you replied, “Ugh, that was so cheesy, babe. Take me to bed already, will you?“

“Your wish is my command, my queen.“

And with that he crouched down to throw you over his shoulder like a sack of rice, carrying you off towards your new bedroom.

“Ah, stop it!“, you laughed.

“Quit wiggling like a chubby little worm.“ Issei gave your ass a playful slap then tossed you onto the bed.

He climbed on top of you, knees trapping you on either side.

With a grin he discarded his sweaty shirt, his well-toned body glowing in the afternoon sun shining through your large window.

“But just to be clear“, he leaned down to kiss you again, “I would still love you if you were a worm.“

You snorted and pulled him down on top of you, sighing happily.

Soon enough the remaining clothes were taken off as well and Issei went to work worshiping every inch of your body.

“Mmh… ah, baby… no more teasing. Please? Can you just fuck me?“

You saw him smirk between your legs.

“You sure? Just letting you know, you‘re not about to leave this bed for a while.“

“Stop bragging and prove it.“

____________________

Three orgasms later

“Where do you think you‘re going, bunny?“, he panted.

His large strong hands grabbed your hips and pulled him back onto his cock.

You had been at it for hours. Your new neighbors, although few and far between, must think you were being tortured. Exhausted and on all fours you were completely at the mercy of your husband who very obviously had lost none of his stamina since quitting volleyball.

“No more… Issei… Oh my god… Ah! I can‘t…“

“Aw, my cute little bunny. Surely you can take one more. Hm, okay, maybe two.“ His hips sped up again, balls slapping heavily against your overstimulated clit, “Ah, look at you dripping on our new sheets, hm? Nnng, so tight… ah, so full of cum - hey, come on bunny, ass up.“ He grabbed at your cheeks, kneading their flesh while pounding you like a madman, “That‘s it… you‘re so good to me. Come on, you can do it.“

You muffled your next climax in the pillow.

a/n: did anyone else read that time skip in the voice of the SpongeBob narrator? No? Just me then xD I genuinely had so much fun writing this. Thank you for the prompt✨

Note, the fast food line is inspired by a tweet I saw many many moons ago. I tried to find it again but with no luck - if you know the one, lemme know and I shall credit ^^

for requests see here

[confiaenanaa]

OOOOOO ANOTHER M&M WRITER?????

ONE OF US! ONE OF US! ONE OF US!!! ANYWAY, I'M JUST HERE TO SAY MY THANKS CUZ I'M GLAD SOMEONE ELSE IS WILLING TO WRITE FOR EMINEM 👀, back to my real intention (hehe), may i request (if you're open, if not you can discard this request) an f!reader with 90's marshall an age-gap around 1-2 or no age-gap, your choice, and the reader was just having an amazingly bad day, while her boyfriend just ruins it even more for her. after their biggest ever argument, reader just ends up wanting to break up with him, in which he agreed and she just stormed off somewhere private and dark but calm for her to listen to music and cry, but then there's marshall spotting her in the corner all by herself. and him, as her best friend, of course wouldn't let the little lady be alone. n then she just kind of started aggresive at first, but moves on to give up and cry while cuddling marshall after a bit more of interacting with the silly blonde guy. he always have great advices for cases involving love, especially for reader, but when it comes to him actually falling for reader? now that's a special case. he'd sometimes give an obvious advice that led to giving hint that he wants reader be with him. (ex: "maybe u can date someone blonde hotter than him." something like that) YOU GET ME YOU GET ME????????? SPECIAL SONG INSPIRATIONAL: TREAT YOU BETTER 🔥🔥🔥🕶️🕶️ ANYWAY, THAT'S ALL OF MY PROMPT, THE REST IS UP TO U, EITHER ENDS UP WITH SMUT OR FLUFFFF 🤭

eminem - friends to lovers

fem!y/n x Marshall Mathers

masterlist

synopsis: Y/N and Marshall are best friends. Y/N goes through a rough breakup; and her best friend is there to help her.

warnings: cursing, smoking

A/N: first request! I hope you like it. if there's any feedback you have let me know!

Y/N pulled into her driveway, sighing after a long day's work. She’d had a terrible day, truly one of her worst. She’d requested a raise from her boss, which she was denied; later, she spilled coffee all over herself and her car on her lunch break. She’d botched her presentation and possibly lost the deal of a lifetime. Her coworkers seemed to be extra annoying, and most of all, her boyfriend, Jack, couldn’t let her relax for one day. She’d received the seventh passive aggressive text from him just as she was turning the key to her front door. 

“Why haven’t you gone for groceries yet? I thought you were going to get me my favorite sour candies.“ 

At this point in her day, she just needed some peace. Maybe a facemask, some ice cream, and a movie. However, just as she’s setting her bag down on her desk, she hears an irritated sigh behind her. She turns to look at him, displeased as ever. 

-Why are you being so bitchy today? All I asked for were my sour candies.

She felt a surge of rage through her body. How dare he call her that? 

-Bitchy? What the hell is wrong with you? I’ve clearly had a rough day, so can you just lay off my ass and let me relax for a bit?

-Why the hell do you need to relax?! All you do is bitch about your job and sit on your ass all day doing nothing and making jack shit!

He’d begun to scream in her face. At this rate, it’d take only one more syllable out of his mouth to make her go catatonic. 

-At least I have a job! And I’m not just some squatter mooching off his girlfriend and sucking the life out of her! 

She knew she’d struck a nerve. He’d recently lost his job—one that he’d really loved. She saw his face contort from rage to hurt to a mix of both.

-Is that how you really feel? Fine! Then I’ll go and suck the life out of someone else since I’m such an inconvenience to your life!

-Yeah! You should! Get the hell out, Jack! And take your shit with you!

He’d looked a bit shocked. By the end of the night, he’d been packed up and moved out. Y/N sat down on her couch and popped open a bottle of vodka. She decided to text her best friend in search of some comfort. He’d texted back almost immediately. 

“I’m sorry to hear that you guys broke up. If you want, I can come over and bring your favorite chocolates and stuff.”

She’d smiled at the message. She told him to come over as quickly as possible. When she put her phone down, the feeling of grief hit her like a truck. It washed over her, covering her from head to toe. She felt the tears flow down her cheeks freely. She suddenly wanted to sink into the couch and not come back out. She didn’t regret her decision, but she’d certainly mourn the loss of a loving figure in her life. 

Just as she began to allow her thoughts to wander, she heard a knock at her front door. She opened it and saw her bleach-blonde best friend. He had a wide grin on his face as he held up the Walmart bag full of snacks and skincare. They were watching a movie, a random one; at least, to Y/N. She couldn’t pay attention; she was too busy thinking about her breakup and the thousand other things overwhelming her at the moment. She’d excused herself, telling him she was going to the bathroom. Instead, she decided to go to her spot. In her backyard, there was a small hill. On the other end, there was a pond with ducks and trees, and she always had it to herself. She sat down near the pond, pulling a cigarette out of her pocket. She lit it and inhaled. 

Just as she was about to light her second cigarette, she heard footsteps behind her.

-Hey.

-Hi.

-You feelin’ okay?

He asked as he took the cigarette out of her hands and hit some himself.

-Kind of. I just don’t really know what I’m feeling. I’m not regretting it, but I’m sad.

-I get it. But the best way to get over things is to move on. Don’t keep thinkin’ about that shit, or you’ll get caught up in it and things’ll get worse.

She realized he’d been right (like always). He looked up at her with hopeful eyes.

-Let’s go back inside and just chill, yeah?

-Alright.

She laid down in her bed, Marshall quickly following suit. She looked around her room, beginning to think about the weight of what just happened. She felt the tears pricking her eyes again. Marshall felt her tremble and heard a sniffle, so he just held her close and whispered reassuring words to her as he stroked her hair. 

-Look, you don’t need a guy like that.

They both sit up.

-Oh, yeah? And what kind of guy do I need?

She asked, keeping up the silly banter their friendship always maintained.

-I don’t know—maybe a hot blonde guy that actually cares.

She giggled and hit him on the shoulder; she thought he was joking, until she looked him in the eye. She saw that he meant it. Y/N froze for a second; did she really want her best friend? Did he really want her? She didn’t really have time to answer since he’d already had his hands pulling the hair at the nape of her neck, pulling her in for a kiss...

[emlovessid]

@into-the-jeggyverse for the bingo prompt coffee shop au, 769 words inspired by this tiktok // bingo masterpost

He's trying to hide Regulus' birthday present when he finds them.

He'd swung past his place after class to grab his overnight bag – artfully-wrapped present hidden in amongst his trackies and jocks – before arriving at the flat Regulus shares with Evan and Barty. It's Regulus' birthday tomorrow, but James unfortunately has an eight am class; his only class that the lecturer actually takes attendance, or else he'd skip. Regulus' first class isn't until two, so James' plan is to leave his gift on the end of the bed for when Regulus wakes up, which won't be until at least ten am, knowing Regulus.

James gives Regulus a quick kiss on the cheek when he lets him inside, saying, "Let me just dump my bag and then I'm all yours," before taking the stairs two at a time up to Regulus' room on the second floor.

He doesn't want to be rustling about in his bag in the morning when he's trying to be stealthy, so with a peek back down the stairs to make sure Regulus hasn't followed him, James pulls the present out of his bag and looks around for a good hiding spot. Opening the wardrobe door, he pushes aside some of Regulus' clothes to tuck the present behind them when he freezes.

At first, he isn't sure what he's looking at, plastic stacked on plastic. Reaching out, he picks one up out of curiosity and as soon as the light hits it, he realises it's one of the plastic iced coffee cups from the coffee shop James has worked at since he started university three years ago; the coffee shop where they first met, actually.

It was in his second year that James first saw Regulus, who very quickly became a regular, coming in two or three times a week during semester for his vanilla iced coffee.

But that doesn't explain why Regulus has a stack of the cups hidden at the back of his wardrobe.

Turning the cup in his fingers, James feels his heart leap into his throat at the words he sees written in black marker on the side:

Regulus

And beneath it:

Have a magical day :)

James immediately recognises the handwriting as his own, though he doesn't specifically remember writing this message. Reaching into the wardrobe once more, he pulls out another cup. And another. And another. Each of them with Regulus' name and a short message.

Happy Tuesday!

Have a great weekend :)

Good luck with exams!!

I really like your smile

Seeing you is the best part of my day

Do you want to get coffee with me? Somewhere other than here?

I had a really great time last night :)

He's staring at the cups in disbelief, that Regulus has seemingly kept every cup with every note James has written him since meeting nearly two years ago. There has to be close to a hundred of them, stacked neatly in rows. He lets out a wet laugh as he reads the next one, tears in the corners of his eyes as he remembers the day he wrote it.

Will you be my boyfriend? Yes / No

He remembers it like it was yesterday, the way he had to steady his hands as he wrote it so his handwriting wasn't all over the place, the way his heart was beating loudly in his ears as he slid the cup across the counter to Regulus, the way Regulus laughed as he turned the cup and read the message.

"What are we, fifteen?" he had chuckled, before adding, "Can I borrow a marker for a sec?"

James had watched nervously as Regulus uncapped the marker, picking the cup up and dramatically circling his response. He'd leant over the counter to tuck the marker back into James' apron, before turning the cup in his hands to take a sip, smirking around the lip as James saw that he'd underlined and circled Yes.

It's like this that Regulus finds him, sitting cross-legged in front of Regulus' wardrobe, cups scattered around him and eyes watering with unshed tears.

"Oh," Regulus whispers.

"You kept them?" James asks, his voice hoarse as he looks up from the cup that reads I love you to find Regulus standing in the doorway, wringing his hands nervously. "You kept them all?"

Nodding, Regulus says, "Yeah. I mean, almost all. There was one that Barty threw out accidentally but otherwise, yeah. Every single one."

Putting the cup in his hand aside, James pushes himself to his feet, striding across the room to Regulus and muttering, "God, I love you," before crashing their lips together.

[solaris-amethyst]

🪻Stay Back, I Bite!🪻

✨Pairing: Wooyoung x gn!reader ✨Prompt: There was this trend going around where couples would test how their partner would react if being hit on by someone. I feel like Wooyoung or Hongjoong would be a lot of fun to see try this! ✨Requested by @beabatiny🫶🏻 ✨Word Count: 0.9k ✨Genre: fluff, non idol au, humor, partners au ☀️Authors Note: Thank you so much for the request! This was so much fun to write, hope you enjoy it even tho it’s a bit short❣️ Currently writing a Hongjoong version of this as well because I was inspired for both of them🫶🏻

"Wooyoung! Come here!!" You call for your partner while walking around the apartment trying to find him.

"Where are you??? I got something I want to try with you!" You say loudly and that does the trick, he comes in to the living room from his own bedroom and bounds towards you for a hug.

His arms wraps around you pressing you into him and you can smell the cologne he's wearing whilst he pepper your face with small kisses.

"I'm here love! What do you want to try out? Is it something fun?" He asks happily, he always enjoy doing things with you and as always he's curious as to what you might have cooked up this time.

"I saw this trend on TikTok where people test how their partner would react if they were being hit on by someone and I want to try it with you!" You explain holding up your phone wanting to film it, not necessarily to post it online, just to have something fun to look back on in the future.

"Sure! That sounds fun! Will you be hitting on me then?" He asks raising his eyebrows at you with a small smirk.

"Well yes." You roll your eyes at him "But you have to act how you would act in real life okay?"

"Yes sergeant!" He says while playfully saluting you before stepping away from you, looking at you curiously as you put up the camera and start filming.

"So we have something to look back on." You say before going out of frame and getting ready to go and flirt with him. Wooyoung stands there looking around pretending as if he's somewhere else, he picks up his phone and starts playing around on it just so he looks busy.

"Hey I'm sorry, but which one would you say is better out of these two?" You ask as you hold up to bars of chocolate towards Wooyoung, leaning close so you enter his own personal space. He glances at you, looking you up and down before suddenly turning towards you and going:

"BARK BARK BARK!" You're caught by surprise before bursting out into laughter at the fact that your boyfriend is standing there barking at you, moving closer as he lets out a bark.

"Woo what the fuck?!" You stare at him as you laugh "You'd seriously bark at someone??"

"If it made them back off then yes and it worked!" He points towards you as if it proved his point before laughing as well. He had tried so hard to not burst out laughing at the split second you had looked at him with wide eyes in shock when he had let out his first bark to get you to back off.

"Okay okay." You say trying to stop giggling as you step out of frame to go and hit on him as a stranger again.

"Hey there pretty boy, think you can help me carry this big package to my car?" You say giving him a wink.

Wooyoung looks at you once before giving you a glare stating loudly.

"Stay back! I bite!!"

"What?" You're completely taken aback at what he said and he turns to you and bites the air.

"I'm serious!!" He bites twice before letting out a huff of air turning around causing you to break character and laugh again. You can hear him giggle most likely finding himself funny as he playfully takes your arm and bites it causing you to gasp and give him a light slap on his arm.

"You do know you could just say you got a partner babe."

You tell him in-between laughs and he turns around with that playful glint in his eyes.

"Now where is the fun in that??" He says while giving you a big grin.

"Go again! This is fun!!" He says cheekily

"Okay, okay one more time!"

You take a moment to regain yourself wondering what he might say or do this time. So far this had been pure comedy for you and the fact that you will be able to look back on it makes it even better.

"You're really cute! Can I get your number??" You tell him trying to stop the laughter from building up before he's even done anything.

"No you can not get my number. You know, I have a partner and they're absolutely amazing. You should see them they're perfect in my eyes especially when they smile a me. They bring me so much joy and I would never ever ever want to leave them, I'd rather walk on legos than let them go. They're beautiful and kind and loving and handsome and wow they're the love of my life." Wooyoung rambles on so quickly you can barely catch what he's saying and he just goes on and on and on until you slowly but surely back away from him with a snort.

"Yeah I think you pass this one with flying colors babe." You admit, now trying to fight the heat building on your cheeks as Wooyoungs words actually starts to sink in.

"Yayyyy!!!!" He runs up and hugs you, spinning you around happily.

The two of you end up looking back at what you had just filmed and the laughter and snorts echoes loudly throughout the apartment when Wooyoung suddenly barks at you.

"I still can't believe you'd bark at someone like that." You say to him

"Why not? I'd totally do it." He says with an innocent smile before continuing:

"Now we should totally do the other way around! I wanna hit on you and see what you would do!" He grins and you can't help but laugh and give his nose a little kiss before agreeing to do it the other way around so he gets to see how you would react in this scenario.

[the1975attheirverybest]

July Forever / Take Off All Of Your Clothes

A/N: loosely inspired by “Lust For Life” by Lana Del Rey featuring The Weeknd.

It’s a bit short. I’m still rusty and trying to get back into writing.

For day 1 of @abiiors ‘s summer75 prompts.

Prompt: melted ice.

Happy July!

Warnings: smut.

The folding chair rocked, precariously, underneath her as she crossed her legs. She sighed and popped open the cooler that she’d used as a makeshift picnic basket, scooping out some ice for her glass. It began to occur to her that she was going to be here a while. She might as well have drink.

The waning crescent light above her was dull. She pressed the ice-cold glass to her hot cheek, sighing at the minor relief it gave her. Where is he? Had she given him the wrong date in her letter? The wrong time, maybe? Why did it have to be a letter? It all felt exciting in the moment. The sexy postcards they’d send back and forth from around the globe. She got caught up in it. Now, she wished they’d sexted like normal people.

The ice in her glass had begun to collect water in the crevices. It rattled in her hand as she switched to the other cheek. Maybe she should’ve kept copies of her responses. Matty would’ve objected though. No doubt. He would’ve said something about the ephemeral and intimate nature of letter-writing. Permanent record keeping would ruin the romance. She couldn’t help but smile at the thought of him. The stuffy humidity was beginning to undo her previously sleek hair and melt off her makeup. Soon, she’d have to take off her cardigan.

She had no idea what time it was, but the ice in her glass had completely melted into a layer of water by the time that she saw the flashing lights of a motorcycle and heard the rev of the engine.

“You’re late.” She said over the loud humming noise as she stood up, watching him dismount.

Matty took off his helmet and ran a hand through his disheveled hair, checking his own reflection in the side mirror. That is why he was always worth the wait.

“Hello, love.” He smiled, self assured, and leaned in to kiss her. His lips tasted of cigarettes.

He clawed the damp, slipper glass out of her grasp, eying it with disappointment. “Your drink looks dead.” With one swift motion, he splashed the contents of her beverage far into the distance. She heard it splatter somewhere. “Pack up. Let’s go for a ride.”

***

the hot wind blowing through her hair provided minimal relief from the heat. She gripped Matty’s torso tighter as the motorcycle tilted at the curve of the street. The Hollywood hills were behind them now. She couldn’t help but note the way that, even under his clothes, his muscles felt firm to the touch.

Matty killed the engine and turned to face her. A smile dangled from his lips. He looked through his pockets for a blunt and a lighter, and, after a couple of drags, he placed it between her lips. His lips, on the other hand, found something else to suck on: the exposed skin of her shoulder. “Get me a drink out of your cooler thing, would you ?”

“since when do you drive motorbikes, anyway?” She asked as she handed him a glass. “what? You don’t like it?”

“oh, I love it. Just..”

Matty’s eyebrow raised. “just not sure you’re cool enough to pull it off.”

“you’re saying you don’t think I look cool right now?”

she took a big swig of her drink to wet her dry mouth. “If I touched you right now, you’re saying you’re not gonna already be wet for me?”

she looked away, instantly, to hide her blushing cheeks. She ran her fingers through her hair and collected it into a ponytail, sighing softly at the feeling of air against her neck. Matty’s gaze followed her. “What? What is it?” The playfulness in his tone told her that he already knew the answer. “N-nothing. Just hot that’s all.”

“Hmm.”

she watched him reach into his drink and fish out one of the ice cubes. He stuck it into his mouth, then, effortlessly took his wet fingers and pressed them to her lips. He felt cool to the touch. Obediently, she parted her lips, taking his fingers in and sucking on them like a cold popsicle. Grinning, he listened for the wet pop as he pulled his fingers out of her mouth. She felt his fingers, wet and sticky, against her cheek when he cupped her face and leaned in for a kiss. their teeth crashed against the remnants of the ice between his lips. She giggled as it fell out of his mouth and landed somewhere on their clothes. “what- what was that?” She chuckled. Matty shrugged. “I was trying something, alright?” He couldn’t help but smile as he watched her eyes sparkle like stars in the sky above. “It was a lot sexier in my head.”

“Don’t worry. still sexy.” She mumbled, kissing him. “Would be even sexier if you took off all of your clothes. Too bad we’re in public.”

matty looked to his right, then to his left, “I mean…”

“matty!”

“It’s the dead of the night.” he shrugged. “Nobody would see.”

“there’s a security camera right over there.” She pointed down the street. Hesitantly, he untangled himself from her and walked closer towards the camera. A sign right below it read “LOS ANGELES POLICE DEPARTMENT.” He stood there, thinking, for a moment, before he took off his jacket and draped the camera with it, obscuring its view. “oh. My god. What are you-“

“Don’t worry about it. I know what I’m doing. Just follow my lead.” He took her hand in his and pulled her towards the grass. *** “You sure about this?”

“Never been more sure of anything in my life.” He said, staring into her eyes. “With you on top, you can keep your dress on just in case.”

any more objections that she might have had evaporated from her mind as she watched him get undressed. She hiked up the skirt of her dress to straddle him, struggling to keep her eyes open and she began to sink down on him. Under the dark cover of night, she couldn’t see his bare chest too clearly. She would have to rely on her other senses. not that it was a problem. She delighted in tasting the salty sweat on his skin as she peppered him with kisses. Her nails took to scratching up and down his back as their bodies met needing. Her scent was unmissable to him as he crashed his lips against her, repeatedly, moaning into her mouth. “waited for this all summer.” He whispered hotly into her ear, thrusting upwards to meet her hips. “fuck- oh- matty!”

“Yeah, baby, call out my name. Let me hear you.”

he watched her face scrunch and her eyes squeeze shut. Swiftly, he reached for the half molten ice in his glass, this time, dropping it in between her breasts and delighting in her help. “Fuck you!” She yelled. “yes, please, darling:” he laughed, taking her in his arms and turning them both around to reverse his position. “Please do fuck me.”

[milksnake-tea]

hello!! 💕💕 first of all, I'd like to say CONGRATS ON THE 1K FOLLOWERS!! honestly your work is so amazing you totally deserve it - reading your work is such a pleasure and such an inspiration, keep up the amazing work, Lui!! 💕💕

okok so now for my request:

may I humbly ask for the love of my life Blade with angst dialogue 10... (please be easy on my heart 💔)

anyways, have a lovely day!! I can't wait to see what you write for this event!! :)

❀ ˎˊ- prompt: "I didn't know where else to go." ❀ ˎˊ- 1k followers event ❀ ˎˊ- character: blade ❀ ˎˊ- warnings: angst ofc !! but not too heavy lmao, mentions of blood and injuries, brief mentions of blade's real name ❀ ˎˊ- a/n: AHHHH TY EL !!! UR SO SWEET I KEEP SAYING THIS BUT GRIPS U

Blade muttered a silent curse to himself, clutching at his bleeding arm as he hauled himself through the Xianzhou. Normally, he would've welcomed the injury, but this one didn't seem to be healing anytime soon.

The streets were uncharacteristically silent - something Blade found himself thankful for. It wouldn't do him any good if a civilian, or worse, a Cloud Knight, had found an injured Stellaron Hunter out in the streets.

He hardly paid attention to where his feet were taking him; he didn't care. Anywhere was fine, as long as it was away from the enemy.

Before he knew it, he was standing in front of a familiar doorstep. Blade blinked, before cursing himself for his carelessness. He needed to get out of here, quick, before you figured out he was here.

He attempted to walk away, but instantly, his arm flared with pain. Blade hissed, glaring at his arm as if it had done something wrong. His arm did not reply.

He heaved a sigh. He'd love to just leave and treat his wound himself. But where to would he leave? Here, he was on enemy territory. No one would welcome him.

Lost in his turmoil, Blade failed to register the sound of your approaching footsteps. It was when you finally opened the door, and the light of your home cascaded onto him that he stiffened like a deer in headlights.

You looked as young as he remembered you - or rather, as much as he could remember you. Such was the fate of a long-lived species, he mused. Your eyes were wide with surprise, shock, and even fear.

"Yingxing?" you managed out in disbelief.

You took a step back, taking a defensive position. Somewhere, in the depths of Blade's guarded heart, something tightened painfully.

"What are you doing here?"

You tried to sound assertive, but the tremble in your voice gave you away. You were scared, and Blade knew it. He didn't blame you. He was a Stellaron Hunter, after all. Creating fear was part of his job - Kafka was particularly good at it.

Usually, he liked fear. He loved seeing it in the eyes of his enemies, their ego dropping to absolute terror when faced with an opponent far beyond their league.

But with you, something about it made his gut twist, as though something was wrong.

As Blade merely stared at you, conflicting emotions swirling in his eyes, you noticed his arm. His black coat was ripped, revealing the gaping slash wound.

"You're hurt," you stated the obvious. Blade cringed, but nodded.

"I..." he took a deep breath. For a moment, the criminal wanted by the IPC looked nervous, vulnerable. "I didn't know where else to go."

Your gaze dropped. It'd been centuries since you'd last seen Yingxing, or Blade. When you last saw him, he was the blacksmith of the High Cloud Quintet, a hero to the Xianzhou. Now, he was one of its most hated criminals.

If you let him into your home and were caught, you'd surely be arrested for treason.

Blade noticed your conflicted gaze. Despite expecting this result, he couldn't help a pit of disappointment from forming in his stomach. He straightened, hardening his gaze.

"Never mind," he said quietly, turning his back. "I apologize for bothering you."

"Wait."

Your voice stopped him in his tracks. You crossed your arms, wondering to yourself if you were insane, delusional, or perhaps just plain stupid.

"Come in," you sighed, quite honestly disappointed in yourself. "You'll get it infected at this rate."

Very reluctantly and confusedly, Blade followed you into your home. You pointed him to the couch, which he wordlessly sat himself on while you disappeared into another room, presumably to retrieve medical supplies.

His memory is foggy, but there's a sense of familiarity here. He briefly remembered the paintings that are hung up, the ones that you won in a bidding. He recognized the table at which you'd drink tea and discuss your day with him.

Flashes of memory flicker in his mind, but Blade immediately squashed them. He knew that delving into the past would only serve to irritate the mara lying dormant within him.

It wasn't long before you returned, holding a first aid kit and sitting down next to him.

"Can you take off your coat?" you asked. "It'll make things easier."

Blade followed suit, slowly unbuttoning his coat and letting it fall to the couch around him. Bandages were wrapped around his entire torso, while scars of many lives littered his skin like burned reminders.

You reached out a hand - but what for, you didn't know. To console him? To touch his scars, to give him even the slightest of comfort?

But you didn't. No, the relationship you two once had was no more. You no longer had the right to do so.

And so, you opted for bandaging him, cleansing the wound, applying ointment, and wrapping it. You stubbornly kept your eyes on the gash, no matter how much you hated the sight of blood, refusing to look up and meet Blade's burning gaze.

"You can stay the night."

Your mouth moved before your brain did. You almost didn't believe your own words, and immediately you wanted to take them back. Even Blade was shocked by your offer, staring at you as though you've grown a second head.

"But," you quickly added, "you need to be gone by tomorrow morning. I refuse to be arrested because you're found in my home."

Your words stung, but were understandable. Blade closed his eyes, and nodded. You stood up.

"There's an extra blanket and pillows in the closet," you said, packing up the first aid kit. "Goodnight, Yingxing."

"Blade," he corrected quietly. "I lost my right to that name a long time ago."

You were silent for a moment.

"Very well," you finally said. "Goodnight, Blade."

And as you left for your bedroom, leaving the criminal in your living room, you could barely hear the faintest of whispers from your old friend.

"Goodnight, [Name]."

reblogs w comments are appreciated !!

[thus-spoke-lo]

Hi Lo!!!

If you find yourself inclined, Law + honeymoon suite has wormed its way into my brain. You can switch the character up too if you find inspiration with another too! I hope your writers block subsides soon i know its a pain in the ass. Take care of yourself!

Thanks for being patient with me fulfilling this! Honeymoon suite is such a cute prompt, but it's Law, so of course I had to make it dirty. Hope you like it!

CW: NSFW/18+; afab!reader; piv sex WC: 970

“Well this is certainly…”

“…something…”

You and Law finished each other’s thoughts as you stood just inside the hotel room and looked around, your mouths hanging open at the sight before you. The room was undoubtedly the nicest you’d ever been in, though you had little to compare it to. It was certainly more lavish than the groaning metal walls of the Polar Tang that you were used to—that was a vessel built for efficiency, and this was a space that was clearly made for luxury and romance.

“And, ah—how did you say Nami got us this room?” he asked tentatively, running his long fingers up and down your arm, his breath warm against your ear.

“She said she knew a guy,” you muttered as you closed the door behind the two of you and dropped your backpack on the floor. “I didn’t think I should ask too many questions after that.”

It only took a tipsy night of catching up with Nami the last time you saw the Strawhats for her to slowly and surely pull it out of you that you and Law had gotten married—a covert ceremony that only the Heart Pirates knew about, all sworn to secrecy, since the spouse of one of the most wanted pirates in the New World would certainly become a target if anyone else knew. She was stunned when you said you hadn’t yet had a honeymoon—didn’t everyone deserve some high-priced extravagance somewhere private and indulgent? She poured each of you another glass and promised to help you make it right, so long as she could have the pleasure of telling Sanji that you were off the market.

“So, what do we do now…husband?” you teased.

“Hmm, I don’t know,” Law said as he flopped back onto the plush mattress. “Sleep sounds pretty nice to me.”

“Sleep?” You grinned as you walked over and climbed on the bed with him, swinging a leg over his thighs to straddle his lap. “We have this whole big, beautiful room to ourselves, and you want to sleep?”

He placed his hands behind his head and slowly moved his hips under you, bucking up against you. “Oh, did you have something else in mind, sweetheart?”

“Well,” you said, biting your lip as you placed your hands on his chest, starting to grind your hips against his, matching his rhythm, “I was thinking we should put this room to good use, you know—make sure we fuck on every single surface?”

“Every one, huh?” He pulled you down towards him, kissing along your jaw and down your neck until little sighs spilled from you like secrets. “You mean like that couch over there?”

“Y-yeah,” you stuttered, starting to frantically tug at the buttons of his shirt. “And each of those nice chairs.”

His hands found the hem of your shirt and he quickly pulled it over your head, before cupping your breasts in his large hands. “And of course we’ll have to do it in the shower, right?”

“Of course,” you smirked, your hips rocking faster as you felt the hardness straining against his jeans, "and obviously that nice big tub.”

“Yes, can’t forget that.” He moaned as you leaned closer down and nipped as his ear, ran your tongue down the stubble that had formed along has jaw and neck, kissed his collarbones and let your warm breathe spread across his bare chest. “But maybe we should start with the bed, don’t you think?”

“I think that sounds amazing, Law.” You yelped and laughed as he pushed you off him, onto the plush mattress, and he wasted no time in pulling your shorts and panties down while he unzipped his jeans.

Law wanted you, needed you, had to have you—after so many nights of interruptions, of hasty encounters in his room or messy fucks bent over the desk in his office, he finally had you all to himself with no one to knock on your door, no one to ask something of either of you, no meetings or plans or anything at all to distract you from each other. He fucked you like he missed you even though you were right there underneath him, driving himself into you, burying himself deep while he gripped your hands and held them above your head, and you each felt the smooth warmth of your rings pressing into your skin, reminders that he was yours and you were his, that in this world of uncertainty and danger, you at least had each other for as long as always might be.

Your bodies bucked and arched and collided in perfect rhythm, and murmured words of adoration and desire and forevers hung in the air between the moans and sighs while you moved against each other with abandon. A warm, pulsating heat built and built until you held his hands even tighter and quaked, spasms of pleasure wracking your body, his name leaving your lips again and again. It wasn’t long before the feeling of your pussy walls fluttering around his cock was too much for him to handle any longer, and he plunged over that crest, spilling himself into you as his hips shuddered and his muscles trembled. Air rushed in and out of his lungs as he buried his face in the crook of your neck and smiled, breathlessly whispering “I love you” into your heated skin.

“So where do we try next, sweetheart?” Law asked after a few moments, as he moved to settle next to you, pulling the covers up and over your sweat-slicked bodies, turning on his side to run his tattooed fingers along your face. “Maybe the balcony?”

You couldn’t help but yawn as the soft pillows and plush bedspread started to warm you from the inside out. “Maybe in a little while—I’m starting to think sleep was a pretty good idea after all.”

[husbandograveyard]

Alright, I already beat my shame with a sandal, so I may finally slide my humble request for a fresh dose of Nanami's E cups 🙏

So, can I request him with prompts: 10, 12 or 8? In case you would need it, any turn towards afab reader/cisfem anatomy is okay with me ❤

I'm really excited for all the writing for this, the prompts are simply amazing, and the choice was the hardest I had in a while 😂 Thank you, good luck, and have fun!

For some reason, Nanami has been evoking the most inspiration this event. JJK mood still reigns supreme. I hope you enjoy some more silly time with him! <3

☁️ Pillow talk event - Masterlist ☁️ Prompt: “Have you seen my socks? I think I’ve lost at least one of them somewhere.”  Character: Kento Nanami (JJK) x GN reader (no pronouns or genitals mentioned)

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽ Suggestive content | Minors DNI | Public sex (office), fluff, humor ☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

Usually, Nanami wasn’t the kind for a quickie, especially not in the office. Too messy, his paperwork could get messed up, there was just too much to factor in and to worry about, he generally preferred you keep it to the bedroom or the couch. 

But somehow, you had been too irresistible today. Every touch had left his skin feeling like it was burning up in the most pleasant way possible, every glance, every smile sent shivers down his spine and blood straight to his dick. There was no way to control it, no real outlet except- 

Well except for bending you over the desk a few minutes ago. It had all been a blur, an innocent kiss on the cheek escalating in clothes hastily being removed, or moved out of the way. Luckily there was barely anyone else in the building, even though the thrill of possibly getting caught only added to your excitement. 

And now that it was all over, you had come to your senses, and both of you were starting to realize just where you were and what had happened, the lust that had clouded your brain dissipating and seeing the office for what it was right now: a mess -especially considering just how neat and meticulous Kento usually was. 

You started to get dressed again hastily, picking up fallen papers and garments from the floor, seeing Nanami do the same thing. You had to stop and stare for a while. His hair a little tousled, strands of it sticking to his forehead, a slight blush still tinting his cheeks. He looked so good too, all disheveled, it almost made you want to go for another round. But rationally, you knew you better wait till home. 

“Have you seen my socks? I think I’ve lost at least one of them somewhere.” 

You were almost done redressing, and the room almost looked like it was before. You both had been completely silent through all of it, and now you were the first one to speak up. You saw your lover blink a few times rapidly, as if awakening from a daze. 

“Ah yes. Behind the chair over there. Not quite sure how it got there?” 

You laughed, you had a vague idea of how it got there in the heat of it all. And still. You put your socks back on, and then your shoes. Standing up to feel your body ache in the most delicious ways, you stretched and walked over to Kento, placing another kiss on his cheek. The same kind as what had started everything earlier. 

“I need to get back to work, but I will see you later at home. Maybe we can go for another round?” 

You grinned as you walked off, sure you heard his breath stuck in his throat for a moment there.

[writingwife-83]

Hello! How do you imagine the first time Rey would wear Ben's sweater? 🦋

Yay for filling another long overdue prompt! 😅 Since I know you love my fic Somewhere Out There, I decided to write this little one shot as a bit of a prologue to that fic. It seemed to fit well. And I was obsessively listening to the song “I can’t hear it now” by Freya Ridings when I wrote this, so that’s where I got the inspiration for the title from. Go listen to the song, it’s got great angsty reylo vibes! 😭 (posted to AO3 but once again tumblr won’t let me link)

Silence So Soft

Rey woke with a gasp, so deep and violent that she nearly felt like she was choking, like surfacing from those dark waters on Ahch-To.

Sitting up, panting and resting her forehead on her knees, she blinked the blur of tears from her eyes. Just like she’d done the night before.

Just like she’d done every night for two full weeks.

She was exhausted, tired of feeling like she was grasping at life, trying to keep a tight grip, when it really felt easier to let go and slip into nothingness. She wished she didn’t feel this way, when the whole galaxy was rejoicing all around her. Everyone else had gotten what they wanted. She’d been left with only a gaping hole within her very soul.

The nightmares wouldn’t stop since she’d lost Ben. Sometimes he slipped away silently, like he had in reality. And sometimes he spoke, begging for her help as he faded and disappeared. Sometimes he reached for her and she couldn’t reach him, couldn’t even grasp his hand in those final moments. But no matter how she was forced to watch him go, she always woke in tears, feeling gutted and miserable.

Rey shivered a little, the perspiration beginning to evaporate from her skin and leaving her chilled. She stood slowly from the cot in her tent, knees still feeling a little weak. Everything on the base was quiet and still, and no doubt all were sleeping, so Rey quietly padded over to her little case of possessions and opened it in search of a cloak. But that wasn’t the first thing she saw.

She’s put this particular item away, almost afraid to see it and touch it at first. But she’d kept it… because she had to. She couldn’t let it go.

Rey gingerly lifted Ben’s black sweater from where it lay, holding it up and watching as a bit of moonlight shone through the gaping hole in the right side. She laid the heavy knit fabric on her lap, running it through her fingers, softer than she ever would have guessed. But then, of course it was. This was what laid against his skin, underneath everything harsh that he presented to the galaxy.

Unable to resist, she lifted it to her nose, breathing in deep and instantly feeling herself carried back to the moment where she’d woken in his arms. That sweet, blissful moment when she feared nothing and the future before her seemed bright and promising. It all came crashing in around her faster than she ever could have predicted.

Rey clutched the fabric tighter, feeling her eyes fill again at the bittersweet memories. And then, as quickly as the thought occurred to her, she was lifting the sweater up and over her head, letting it fall down around her, snuffing out the cold and sadness.

She released an audible sigh as the soft weight settled on her body. Somehow it also lifted what had been weighing heavily on her. All that loneliness faded, just a little. She could almost feel him again, feel that little crackle of energy when they’d connect through the Force. What she wouldn’t give to feel that prickle on the back of her neck at that very moment. And then she could almost feel his fingertips against that same spot, the way he’d supported her, even after he’d brought her back to life.

Crawling back into her cot, Rey laid down and snuggled into her pillow and blankets, feeling more at ease than she had in two weeks. She closed her eyes, somehow not minding the silence as much as she had before. There was a sort of peace in it, a clarity. She didn’t feel so alone anymore. Ben wasn’t really gone.

Rey’s eyes flew open again, wide and bright, darting back and forth as her thoughts flew in a hundred directions at once.

Of course…

Ben wasn’t really gone.

Rey hugged the sweater tighter against her body, her chin wobbling a little, but not in grief anymore. No, now it was replaced with determination. She knew what she had to do.

It was time to find Ben Solo.

[klausinamarink]

Happy birthday in advance!!

If it's still unclaimed, could you write something for the "swimming" prompt? And if swimming is already spoken for, an alternate choice would be "Because you're a jinx!" While Steve, Eddie, and/or Robin are my favorites, any characters that you are inspired to write about would be great.

Thank you! I hope the entire month of April for you is filled with creativity and fun!! 💜🎉🥳

and a happy birthday to you too! 🎉

—

When Max thought of what she missed the most in California, the beach was always at the bottom of the list. 

Sure, it had been fun when she was younger, but that was when it was just Max and her mom. Before Max started skateboarding and found it more enjoyable than burning her bare feet on the sand. 

Before her mom remarried and Billy was supposed to be her brother. 

Max always hated Billy. But in the first week after their parents’ marriage, Max had tried to connect with Billy. See if there was something else under his spitfire attitude and resentment. 

It was a Saturday morning and Billy was lifting his weights when Max had asked him if they could go to the beach.

She saw how the muscles of his bare back had tensed up. The sudden hitch in his breath. His eyes wide and distant in the mirror. 

Then Billy had spun around, one of the weights breaking through the drywall just inches from Max’s head. She had cried out but forced herself to be silent when Billy had yanked her towards him by the collar. He had leaned to her face, spitting at her as he growled, “Don’t ever ask me that again, you little bitch.”

When Billy had let her go, Max ran to her room and muffled her sobbing into her pillows. 

Since then, she never looked back once at the beach. Not even years later when they moved out to Hawkins. 

But here she was: facing the waves while the heat radiating from the sand made her sweat. It made her faded surgery scars itch and rustled the ever so-deep flares from her metal-fixed bones. 

“You doing okay?”

Max tore her gaze away from the waves. Steve was crouching under her umbrella, dripping wet from the ocean. His hair was ridiculously flat. Max bit the inside of her cheek so she wouldn’t laugh yet at the future image of Steve bemoaning the loss of his infamous poofy hair. 

“It’s hot,” Max admitted. She used to miss the permanent heat. She never liked the Indiana winters even with the fluffiest coats and sweaters. But now she was starting to pray for a December snowfall. 

“Did you need the towels soaked again?” Steve asked.

“Please. I’m dying over here,” Max pleaded. Back in March, she would never make another dead joke. Back in March and April and May, she had to chew the guilt with the shitty hospital foods whenever she caught Steve’s fallen expression. As if Max was a lost ghost and he was the only one who couldn’t get her to the other side.

But March was four years ago. Today was a lazy Saturday in May and Max can make as many dying jokes as she could and it always caught everyone off guard that had them spluttering for breath while Steve and Lucas laughed their asses off. 

Suck that, Vecna.

Steve gently pried off the towels that hung on her arms and around her neck. As he dosed them with one of their many cold water bottles, Max stared back out into the ocean.

Mike, Lucas, Robin, and Eddie were in the middle of another ruthless round of water volleyball. Dustin and Erica were picking through the tiny shells on the shore. El and Nancy were sunbathing while Jonathan and Argyle chatted. Mike and Will had walked off somewhere, probably for something gross. 

It was nice. But the longer she had stared at the waves, the more they called out to her. 

A long time ago, the crashing waves reminded her of the broken drywall and Billy’s spittle on her face. Sometimes she had a nightmare of walking in the water, only for a riptide to pull her out into the vastness where she eventually had no choice but to sink underneath the surface where the infinite darkness greeted her. 

Max had assumed that it was literal. But it had turned out that the riptide and darkness was just Billy. And then it became the Upside Down and Starcourt. And then it was Vecna.

She was so scared then. 

“I think I want to swim,” Max said.

Steve stopped as he was about to place a freshly-soaked towel on her arm. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Steve made an affirmative noise and stood up. “You need any help?”

“Maybe you piggyback me to the water?” Max gave him the best puppy eyes she could muster. “I don’t wanna burn my feet.”

Steve sighed but she caught him smiling, “And when you want to get out?”

“Steve, it’s a crime to leave a girl in the ocean!”

He laughed as he crouched down in front of her, his arms outstretched to carry Max. She managed to slide out of the beach chair and land firmly on Steve’s back, wrapping her arms around his broad shoulders. The wetness of his back slightly soaked through the front of her baggy shirt and swimsuit.

“God, I swear you used to be lighter,” Steve huffed, already running towards the water.

Max laughed as she bounced, “No, you’re just getting old!”

The waves grew louder as they approached. Max spotted Lucas turning around just in time for Steve to splash into the water, dashing through the first wave. She swore she saw Lucas breaking into a joyous grin and waving to her with a whoop. It made her heart swoon.

Steve stopped suddenly. A particularly large wave was about to break in front of him. 

“Ready?” 

If he had asked Max that years ago, she would’ve said no. Or maybe she would agree just for the sake of being pulled far from the shore’s reach and accept what waited for her in the depths.

Max said with a grin on her face, “Born ready.”

Steve torpedoed into the wave just as it broke and crashed onto them. Max was immediately plunged into the forgotten warmth of salt water. It went up her nose and she closed her eyes too late so it stung her eyes. She clung tighter around Steve as the water roared in her ears.

When she broke through the surface first, Max’s first reaction was to laugh.

It was kind of dumb to be scared of the ocean after all this time. But it definitely helped when her family was here too.

[deathclassic]

tag game wedenesday thursday

thank you @iansw0rld @sgtmickeyslaughter @spacerockwriting @rayrayor and @energievie for the tag, it's really appreciated <3

-

Name: Molly

Age: Twenty five

Location: Somewhere in Australia

And now...

Latest music discovery: I've been listening to a lot of south korean and japanese metalcore bands lately, really digging 'end these days' and 'synsnake' from south korea as well as japanese bands like 'break your fist', 'foad', 'c-gate', 'knosis', 'daybreak of silence', 'falling asleep', 'make my day', 'prompts', 'azami' and 'girugamesh'

Latest movie: final destination 3 i think

Last TV show you finished: uhhhh probablyyyy only murders in the building

Most recently started book: nope

Most recent trip out of town: i went to a funeral a few weeks ago

Most recent trip out of the country: never left the country

Most recent gift you made yourself: made? idk i have a lot of self indulgent ian and mickey drawings that are too obscure to post

Most recent gift you made to someone else: probably for the gallavich gift exchange where i drew a blink 182 inspired piece for ms-moonlight-inn

Most recent text message you received: from my mum 'i saw you in photos at bring me the horizon on twitter, looks fun! good spot'

Most recent text message you sent: lmao i sent like 5 to my mum after that one and she didnt respond to any of them! so the last one was 'here'

Last fic you read: oh! i re read @callivich 's masquerade fic this morning - weight of the world

Last drink you had: hot choccy

Last thing you ate: a piece of bread when i got home from bring me the horizon last night

Latest piece of clothing you bought: a bring me the horizon tour tee, a bring me the horizon hoodie and a bring me the horizon longsleeve,,,,,

Latest piece of advice you received: 'take the hot cross mix out of the fridge when you start mixing the buns so your hands aren't cold'

Latest piece of advice you gave: 'if you go down the sides of a crowd you're more likly to get barrier even if you didn't camp out'

Latest thing you promised yourself: go to sleep whenever you can

im really really sorry if you've been tagged and have already done it :(

@creepkinginc @heymrspatel @heymacy @gardenerian @stocious @transmurderbug @transmickey @ian-galagher @callivich @suzy-queued @crossmydna @too-schoolforcool

[bcbdrums]

Cadenza

A Soul Eater fanfic. Read on: AO3 | FFn

Fourth in a series of 31 prompt-based one-shots. Prompts from this list.

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A/N: Soul needs to bond with Maka's dad. Just saying. Anime-verse, post-canon. My headcanon is that the room with the piano and pictures on the wall we see in episodes 1 and 51 is actually an art gallery somewhere in the academy. 4. “Hold fast to dreams for when dreams go Life is a barren field Frozen with snow.” --Langston Hughes

Sunlight poured warm and bright through the gallery's picture windows like a curtain, bathing the room in gold. Just like any dawn, it served to bring a sense of freshness and rebirth to the surroundings and a feeling of hope for better things.

It should have been inspiring.

It was not.

Soul stared at the dust that floated through the yellow rays as he sat in the one part of the room untouched by the sun's warmth, the piano next to the wall still in shadow.

He looked down at the keys, pristine and unmarred even by fingerprints — a testament to the academy's custodial staff, he supposed. But, he also rarely heard of the instrument being played.

He set his hands in a familiar pattern, letting them rest upon the smooth ivory, but he didn't play. Countless songs were at his fingertips, but his soul denied each of them. Whatever it was he was yearning for that had brought him back to the rarely-used room, he couldn't identify it to bring it out.

And so he sat unsatisfied, letting memories of the past float through his mind like the dust in the sun and simply staring down at familiar black and white, a small comfort in and of itself even if it couldn't resolve whatever had his soul in such a twist.

"I’d expected to hear something by now."

Soul startled upright at the unexpected intrusion.

“D-Death Scythe!” he exclaimed, the name coming out less respectful and more accusatory, which only added to his sudden panic.

Outside of the collective safety of the classroom and without his meister, Lord Death’s second in command suddenly seemed very intimidating. Not that it stopped Soul's cocky tongue.

“How did you know I was down here!?”

“I saw you heading this way. And the art gallery isn’t exactly a popular student hangout,” was the man's soft reply.

Soul slowly lowered himself back down on the piano bench, seeking that small familiarity for protection as the tall man slowly approached, hands in his pockets and a gentle smile on his face.

“I was looking forward to listening. Your playing is practically legendary,” the death weapon continued, stopping just behind the hinge of the grand piano’s lid and setting a hand on the smooth, black surface.

“Huh?” Soul replied, his initial panic being replaced by confusion. “You must be thinking of Kilik, or someone else.”

“I think Maka talked for at least an hour about you and the piece you played after you two became partners,” Death Scythe continued. He paused and glanced toward the windows, the light still streaming in and quickly increasing the ambient temperature of the room. Or maybe that was just Soul’s nerves getting the better of him. “That’s a night I’ll never forget.”

'Neither will I,' Soul thought, but he wasn’t about to ask the man what had caused his eyes to grow misty and stolen the smile from his face. But before he could fumble out another response, the red-haired man had turned back toward him.

“So how about it? What can you play?”

Put on the spot, Soul wasn’t sure if he should show off, flee, or say something insubordinate. But Death Scythe’s comment about Maka talking about his playing for over an hour had caused the roller coaster of his thoughts to flatline.

She truly thought that much of it? Granted, she was wholly uneducated and slightly tone deaf when it came to serious music, but what he had chosen to play for her—in fact, what had been designed to put her off—had captivated her that much?

Death Scythe was still waiting, his expression calm but his eyes encouraging. Soul thought for another moment and then adjusted the placement of his fingers over the keys. 'Show off,' was what his racing mind kept repeating, and his fingers began flying over the keys in long-practiced patterns, filling the room with boisterous rhythms and jolly harmonies.

He didn't look up, focused on accuracy for something he hadn't touched in years, but he could peripherally see the expression on the man's face. He was impressed, and Soul smirked as he arrived at a cadence where he could stop. He wasn't about to play an entire sonata on the spot, no matter who the audience was.

When Soul finally looked up in victorious satisfaction, the death weapon lifted his hands and offered soft but affirming applause.

"You're very good," was the man's comment after several honoring claps. The words were genuine, Soul knew, but he suddenly had the feeling of being exposed—the way he used to feel during a lesson when he hadn't practiced beforehand and knew his teacher would be able to tell. Sure enough, the proof came out in Death Scythe's next words. "But that isn't what you played for Maka."

Soul wanted to snip at the man for his intrusion and for his assumptions. And he knew it would take the slightest thing—either an insult to his musical intelligence, or, it was past ten in the morning so shouldn't he be at the bar already?—to send the red-haired man spluttering angrily away. But, he found his mouth had gone dry.

As the tall man stepped around the instrument to hover over his shoulder Soul suddenly realized he wasn't seeing him as a death weapon, but as Maka's father. A man who despite flaws that could be listed from sunup to sundown (in his meister's opinion, at least) was still skilled, intelligent, and ultimately someone whose approval mattered to Soul.

"I used to play guitar, you know," Death Scythe said, reaching down to set a hand on the keys. Soul leaned away from the man's proximity and looked up at his slightly furrowed brow, where it was clear he was trying to recall something.

"What kind?" he couldn't help but ask.

"Electric. Les Paul."

Soul's brow rose.

"It's still in my closet somewhere. Haven't touched it since...I was younger than you," the man continued, pursing his lips with a small hum of nostalgia.

The younger weapon glanced between the man's face and his hand still resting on the keys not far from where Soul's had been, but he'd tucked his hands into his lap when the man came near.

"Why'd you stop playing?" he asked, unable to help himself.

Death Scythe shrugged lightly. "Got busy. Chasing souls, chasing after my meister, chasing..."

He trailed off, and Soul mentally finished with the likely demeaning comment of 'tail,' but his curiosity had been piqued now and to offend Maka's dad wouldn't get him any real answers as to why the man had followed him down to the gallery.

Before he could think of something else to say, a single chord rang through the room. It was slowly followed by another, and another. There was no added rhythm, each chord lasting a slow four counts, but it was clear almost immediately that it wasn't that type of piece as Death Scythe played. The progression was complex, having started in happy major but moving quickly to minor and drawing the tension out, approaching resolution but taking surprising turn after turn away from it. Soul glanced away from where he was memorizing the chords to the man's face, his eyes only half-watching what he was doing as they had glazed over, clearly recalling something. And whatever was on his mind, Soul knew it wasn't music theory.

"So you play piano too?" Soul asked, though he could tell from the uncertainty of the man's movements despite the lack of errors that this wasn't an instrument he had much experience with.

Death Scythe didn't reply immediately, hesitating as he seemed to struggle to recall something, and then brought his own impromptu performance to a conclusion with the expected major chord. But everything that had come before it had left the sunlit air with a feeling of melancholy.

The man finally straightened up and took a step away and back out of Soul's personal space, for which the teen was grateful.

"No, just when I would write... To hear the song with a different sound, to see if it was really going where I wanted it to."

Soul's chest was burning with curiosity now, despite the fact that this was Maka's hated, cheating father standing next to him. Had he written the haunting song he'd just played? What was its meaning? How many other songs had he written? And was that guitar in his closet still in fair condition?

Death Scythe moved back to where he'd stood before by the piano lid's hinge, in the position a teacher might occupy. Soul felt the familiar unease of being scrutinized again, but he didn't shrink from it. His expression was open now, watching the older, more experienced scythe and waiting. What for though, he wasn't sure.

"We never had to fight the kishin itself in my day," Death Scythe began, "but we certainly had our share of defining battles."

"Oh yeah? Like what?" Soul couldn't help but quip. He doubted the older weapon had ever dealt with anything quite as painful or terrifying as the blast of the kishin's weapon.

Of course, Soul recalled then with a flash of guilt...the man had lived through exactly that.

"Entire covens of witches. Rogue wizards. Immortal monsters who couldn't hardly sustain damage let alone die," Death Scythe reminisced, glancing out the window as his expression fell to stone.

Soul bit the inside of his cheek. Despite having faced and ultimately helping Maka win against the kishin, there was something too real and ominous in what Death Scythe had said. There was still madness and evil roaming the world, and he couldn't forget his duty just because they'd been victorious against one extremely large threat.

Soul began to mentally pack away the twisting confusion in his chest that had led him to the gallery that morning. His own problems were nothing in comparison to his responsibilities to Maka, or to Lord Death and the rest of the world.

"She doesn't love you because you're close to becoming a death weapon, you know."

Soul's thoughts were arrested again, every one of them floating away like the dust in the sunbeams as his throat constricted.

'What?'

Death Scythe was looking at him again, the hardness to his eyes having softened but not to the place it was when the man had entered the gallery. He didn't speak again, simply staring at him out of the wisdom of experience that was reflected in the clear, teal depths of his eyes, suddenly extremely visible despite the curtain of red hair that was designed to hide them.

When Soul remembered to breathe, he leapt to insubordination as a defense. Because talking about Maka in that way wasn't something Soul ever wanted to do with the older scythe.

"Psht, and what would you know about love?" he retorted cockily.

Death Scythe's expression only softened further, and Soul balled his sweaty hands under the piano in unease. No one ever looked at him the way the man was now, except perhaps Maka, and it was unsettling. As if he could somehow see through him even lacking soul perception, see his thoughts and insecurities and everything in his life that had his wavelength pulsing erratically as he wondered who he was and who he was supposed to be.

Death Scythe shifted to lean against the piano and inhaled slowly. His gaze on Soul clarified in seriousness. His voice remained low and soft as he answered, as it had with every word he'd spoken.

"I know that in the lives we lead as weapons, we're incomplete without it. We belong in the hands of a meister, and that relationship in itself is part of what defines us. Trying to make it on our own, or out of sync with them...it won't work. We'll end up losing ourselves if we don't...allow ourselves to accept love. And give it in return. Because the trust that comes in love is the foundation of a successful weapon-meister partnership."

Soul ran over the words in his mind, processed them... He knew they were true. But rebellion still won out.

"And I'll say it again... What would you know about it?"

Soul didn't like how Death Scythe had seen through him so clearly, to the questions that had haunted him ever since the kishin's defeat as life had slowly begun returning to normal. But, what was normal anymore? His soul had been stirring ever since that day with questions he couldn't even put to words, but hearing one of them spelled out so clearly was a bit more than the young scythe could handle in the moment.

Just who was he to Maka now, after everything?

Death Scythe's response to the dig against him was to hum softly in acknowledgement, his gaze lowering to the floor. But the small, thoughtful smile he wore remained.

He turned back to the window, and Soul noticed the brilliance was fading from the sun's rays. He couldn't see the dust floating in the air as clearly anymore.

"You're still very young."

"Hey—"

"And I don't want you to make any of the mistakes that I made."

This gave Soul pause. He watched in silence as the death weapon's smile began to fade to seriousness again, and he wondered... This was Maka's father. A victim of tabloid fodder for over a decade, an unashamed alcoholic and flirt, an utter failure in domestic life...and the death scythe of death scythes. The way he'd always viewed the man, through Maka's eyes, suddenly merged with the man who had taken that first nearly-fatal blow from the kishin, standing bravely with Lord Death between madness and the rest of the world.

Spirit Albarn turned from the window, piercing Soul with his clear, teal gaze once more. Crimson stared back, open and almost childlike in the hope Soul suddenly found he needed.

"Don't let what you think you need to be...become so important that you lose your soul."

The younger scythe was pierced by the words as well as the gaze, again struck by how the man he'd never wanted to respect had seen straight through him. Curiosity brimmed at the back of his mind, about what could have happened to lead the man astray from the foundation of love he had so aptly named as vital to a weapon's relationship to their meister. But he ignored it, swallowing slowly as he let his grip on nothing fade, his gaze falling to his hands as he spoke.

"What if...I'm not sure I even have the key to my soul anymore?"

Death Scythe's expression fought then between impassivity and a grimace, the man glancing down as the latter slowly won, and Soul had the overwhelming impression of seeing Maka's father once again and not the death weapon.

"Then...you look to your meister. And h— She'll...know where to find it. If you trust her."

The older man pursed his lips and seemed to force away whatever discomfort he felt and then looked back at the teen with knowing, pressing eyes. Soul felt his mouth had gone dry again as he attempted to process what in essence was permission and in fact encouragement from the man to love his daughter.

"So. Soul Eater..."

The red-haired man nodded toward the piano, his soft, parental smile returning as he straightened up from where he'd leaned against the instrument.

Soul looked down. He brought his hands back to the keys and moved them into another pattern, anticipating. They were still sweating, but not for fear of being judged on a mistake.

It all started with one terrifying chord.  And after taking a deep breath, he let it resound through the room—through his fingers, through the floor, feeling the vibrations through his bones until the power faded. And then, a single repeated note that increased in speed until it finally climbed.

He let everything fade. The warmth and radiance of the sunlight around him, the gnawing in his chest of something yearned for and unsatisfied, and Maka's father watching him less than two feet away. He let himself slip into the music, ignoring the constraints of tempo and rhythm as he alternated between precision and recklessness, simply playing as his soul demanded.

And through playing... Not for his family, not for aid in battle, and not even for Maka... He felt the beginnings of peace; a settling of his wavelength into the same frequencies vibrating out of the strings as he played for him for the first time in perhaps years.

And that, he finally realized, was what was missing. Ever since the crisis of the kishin's escape, he had spent every part of himself on being what everyone else and especially Maka needed. It was in his nature as a weapon. But as he felt the confusion in his heart lessen, he was forced to admit that Death Scythe was right.

He couldn't continue being everything for Maka, and everyone else, if it all ended with giving every part of himself away. And with all he had learned in his short years at the academy, he realized he was ready at last to find himself again.

These thoughts sent more peace through his wavelength as he let the song almost play him, responding to it as much as he was directing it—the push and pull of the tempo, the power and gentleness of the dynamics, everything in his soul pouring out through his fingers in the way he had always desired but felt he couldn't permit himself to express.

As he let the newfound freedom bring rest to his soul, he suddenly understood just how right Death Scythe was. The passion he felt to be what his meister needed was no longer a pressure, nor carried fear of failure. It was light within him, and he knew...if he continued this pursuit of his own soul—the reason he'd joined the academy to begin with—then he could truly be the weapon partner she deserved.

The revelations washed over Soul as he played the final chord of the song with cathartic release. And he didn't want it to be over. He wanted to keep playing, to let his wavelength spill out in the way he'd first learned before he'd ever discovered his weapon blood, and relearn himself in the way that he never wanted anyone to know was so precious to him. But before he did that, he knew reluctantly that a thank you was in order. He lifted his gaze from the keys.

"Hey—"

Soul blinked at an empty room. Death Scythe was gone, and the suns rays had shifted, lighting up the ivory in an almost golden aura and leaving him feeling empowered, his soul practically vibrating in readiness.

"Hmm," he huffed lightly as one corner of his mouth curled upward just enough to reveal a toothy grin. He shifted his hands on the keys and began another song, his soul rising with the music like the sun.

[alexanderlightweight]

Hola, hope you're doing well. I was scrolling trough tiktok and I saw an edit of the "You would not hold up well under torture" "oh and you would?" "I did" so maybe Magnus let that detail slip? Or i don't know something inspired in that quote? 😁

hola! i am doing very well thank you, and this prompt was a lot of fun so i hope you like where i went with it <3 it was definitely inspiring

-

“Magnus!” Simon calls, relief in his voice as he heads Magnus’ way and really, if it wouldn’t delay him even further, Magnus would just portal Simon somewhere else.

Where his existence doesn’t interfere with Magnus getting to Alexander as quickly as possible.

“Yes, hello Simon.” Magnus says dryly and he continues on, stepping past Simon and rolling his eyes when Simon’s expression drops.

“Wait, Magnus—” and Simon is chasing him now, “uh, wow. You are fast, is this a warlock thing too? Because I thought vampires were supposed to get cool stuff, but I can’t even outrun runed shadowhunters.”

“Simon, I am incredibly busy.” Magnus tells him, a hint of fire to his tone. “I am going to collect Alexander, and then I am taking him home. So why don’t you run along, before I ask someone who is actually supposed to be here, why you are bothering the Commander of this Institute’s partner?”

“Uh—”

Magnus makes eye contact with a blond hunter he thinks might be called Undermole, he’s not entirely sure because Alexander is too distracting for Magnus to pay attention to much else. The hunter immediately steps up, blocking Simon’s path.

“The Commander is waiting for you in his

Magnus pauses, suddenly suspicious as he glares at Simon. The hunter seems to notice because suddenly, he’s also staring Simon down, backing Magnus up.

“Simon—” Magnus drawls, leadingly, “is there something you have to tell me?”

“What? No, me? No, I’m just you know, happy to see you. Yeah, cause you’re my buddy and Alec’s buddy and—”

“I am not Alexander’s buddy, Simon.” Magnus says, voice clipped, and he lets magic wreathe his nails with fire as he looks at them, feigning boredom. “And whatever you think you are to me, it’s about to become even less.”

“Izzy just needs to talk with Alec. For like a half an hour, max!” Simon blurts out, “but she lost track of time and Alec put in a rule that if it’s not an alarm level emergency, you get priority.”

“You would not hold up well under torture.” Magnus mutters, utterly disgusted and done with both Simon and Isabelle. It would have been one thing to ask if Magnus would mind waiting a few minutes, but they have plans and he won’t be postponing them for underhandedness.

“Oh, like you’d do any better.” Simon grumbles and Magnus scoffs, even as Undermole sucks in a deep breath and looks between the two of them in horrified shock.

“Oh, I’m known for holding up under torture.” Magnus tells me, delighting in the panic and sudden fear in Simon’s eyes. “You can ask any hunter here, including your girlfriend. I’m sure the clave has pages upon pages of just how little information they’ve ever been able to extract from me no matter how hard they tried. Do you want a lesson, Simon? In the art of holding, one’s tongue?”

“I’ll take him from here!” Undermole interjects and he’s bodily hauling an unresisting and gaping Simon away.

Magnus is furious now, his skintight as he remembers just how far he’s willing to go before betraying those he cares about. It creates an itch, a hunger and need he can’t settle, and Magnus isn’t sure what’s showing on his face, but every single hunter he passes gets out of his way and keeps their eyes down.

Alexander’s door is shut, and Magnus slams it open with a flare of magic that has Isabelle spinning, hand on her pommel and Alexander looking towards him with delight.

The wonder on his boy’s face fades the minute he sees Magnus and Alexander barks out an “Izzy, leave now.”

His sister tries to protest, and Alexander ignores her, walking over to Magnus and when she continues to talk, Magnus gives in and flings her from the room. He’s seen shadowhunters survive much worse than being slammed against the hall and his magic seals the door into place.

“What do you need, Magnus?” Alexander is asking him, smooth and sweet and concerned.

“I’m going to take you somewhere knew,” Magnus tells him. Which is a change from their plans, “and I’m going to fuck you until the only thing either of us knows is how well we fit together.”

“Okay—” Alexander tells him, hands soothing as the rub Magnus’ shoulders and then tightly grip his biceps, “take me home then, Magnus. I’m yours, why don’t you show me where I belong, okay?”

“With me,” Magnus murmurs, his anger stoked and the fire needing the cool of a blizzard to temper it. “You belong with me, to me, don’t you sweetheart?”

“Always,” Alexander promises him, and he lets Magnus tug him through a portal. Taking his boy to the fortress Cat and Ragnor once built him, so that Magnus could put himself back together, piece by piece.