the aftermath of it
can’t find it in herself to be mad anymore.
At the start, after Magnus had portaled home, staggering and hurt and halfway to death with this boy leaning against him, asking that she help this Shadowhunter first… she remembers healing him – Alexander
– and feeling rage. With runes stark on his skin and blood
on his knuckles, he had been every inch a Nephilim. The Nephilim who
had stolen Magnus’s heart.
She remembers the way she’d frowned at his unconscious face,
comparing him to the strip of photographs Magnus left on his desk.
Watching him lying there on a makeshift cot in the living room,
suffering from the shock of blood loss and broken bones, she couldn’t
imagine him making funny faces, couldn’t imagine him looking at
Magnus with soft, sweet eyes. Couldn’t imagine that
he’d want Magnus’s touch, that he would smile
that boyish, lopsided smile with her best friend’s arms looped
She remembers thinking, you don’t deserve him. This
Shadowhunter, this lying Head of the New York Institute,
didn’t deserve Magnus and his love. Magnus, who had started
sleeping exclusively on the right side of the bed, who looked at
Madzie with something wistful in his gaze every time she ran toward
him, who always protected his people at the expense of his own
He’s too good for you, she had thought as she glared
daggers at the boy in front of her, with his angel blood and penchant
for prejudice. But she hadn’t said anything, hadn’t rolled him down the stairs, and had gone to help Magnus instead; her best friend, drained of magic and still stubbornly trying to heal himself. She’d gone to the balcony afterwards to clear her mind for a minute, to rest her hands, and now, as she turns around to check in on Magnus…
The Shadowhunter is missing from his cot. Classic. Rolling her eyes, she opens the
door to the master bedroom.
They’re lying in Magnus’s bed together, Magnus’s head
pillowed on Alec Lightwood’s chest, nearly asleep as he slowly
heals from the wounds of battle. His body still lies stiff from the aches
of demon venom coursing through his blood, skin paler than its usual
golden hue, bruises littered everywhere, yet his arm is still curled
possessively around the Shadowhunter’s waist in a familiar motion.
And the Shadowhunter…
He’s looking at Magnus like he’s a miracle.
His eyes never leave Magnus’s and his face is soft and warm and
content, like he’s holding onto something he thought he’d lost
forever. He looks young like this, the way he smiles and whispers
secrets into Magnus’s ear, the way his fingers trace patterns on
his bare shoulder, the way he readjusts the red silk blanket so that
it’s tucked carefully under Magnus’s chin.
Magnus can’t see it, with his face buried into the
Shadowhunter’s shirt, but from the doorway, Catarina can. This boy…
he’s truthfully, honestly, painfully in love. The
type of love Catarina hasn’t seen Magnus receive in too long, the
type that’s as helpless and natural as the sky is blue. And a part
of her still wants to be angry, to shake Alec Lightwood until his
teeth click in his skull, to tell him, don’t you ever hurt
him, but from the way he’s staring down at Magnus with his
heart in his eyes, she thinks he already knows.
Catarina starts to turn around, when unexpectedly Alec Lightwood’s
eyes dart up to meet hers at the sound of her loafers swishing
faintly against the rug. They stare, frozen for an awkward moment,
and she nearly laughs at loud at the way his cheeks go rosy pink. She
opens her mouth to say something, to make fun of him
maybe, or tell him to let Magnus sleep, but right then Magnus shifts,
groaning low in his throat, and the Shadowhunter breaks his gaze,
mumbling something into Magnus’s hair that makes her friend smile
Wordlessly, Catarina magics the door closed, staring at the smooth
black wood as Magnus and Alec fade from view. In the kitchen, she
makes herself a cup of chamomile tea, hands wrapped around the
soothing, fragrant heat as she sighs in exhaustion. The two of them…
they don’t make sense to her, not at all. They shouldn’t work.
But Magnus is Magnus, and he’s never done anything by halves. If
his happiness comes in the form of a too-tall Shadowhunter with
gentle eyes and a cautious smile, then Catarina will be the very last
person in this dimension to tell him no.
Steve holds Bucky’s hand whenever the opportunity presents itself. It’s not even a conscious action anymore, he’ll be mid conversation with someone else and Bucky’ll sit next to him and Steve takes his hand or starts playing with his fingers. Natasha asks him about it, why she never sees them together not holding hands and Steve’s quiet for a moment before saying “because i couldn’t reach it before, im not letting go now”
jin: jin’s fingers slowly traced the inside of your thigh as they slowly traveled up the soft skin. a shiver went down your spine as you realized what was happening.”jin,” you said breathily, trying to close your legs. he merely tsked and pried your legs apart with his strong hands. “i know you want it baby,” he whispered in your ear, “you love having my fingers inside you.” your head was thrown back as he reached his destination, slowly pushing a finger inside you.
yoongi: yoongi was rough, pushing your legs apart and growling, “mine.” the word made a shiver travel down your spine as you shook under yoongi’s intense gaze. his finger trailed over your slit as you gasped impatiently, “yoongiiii.” a chuckle rumbled through his throat and he suddenly slid two fingers inside you, roughly pumping them. “that’s right baby,” he growled again, “say my name.” broken syllables from yoongi’s name fell from your lips as he continued his ministrations.
hoseok: hoseok couldn’t help the smirk that pulled at his lips as you writhed underneath his touch. three fingers pumped steadily into you as you couldn’t control the loud moans falling from your lips. “f-faster,” you begged as your hands gripped the soft sheets underneath you. hoseok happily obliged and pressed his thumb against your clit, making your back arch. “that’s it,” he praised, “good girl.” his fingers continued to take you over the edge.
namjoon: namjoon’s fingers slowly edged under the hem of your dress as you were focused on the speaker up on the stage. your eyes widened as namjoon’s fingers got dangerously close to the hem of your underwear. you gasped and swatted at his hand. namjoon merely smirked before lifting the edge of your underwear and trailing his finger across your slit. “j-joonie,” you pleaded, “we’re in public.” he chuckled “exactly,” before slipping a finger inside you.
jimin: jimin had one hand pressing against your abdomen to hold you down while the other was pumping in and out of you. “so good for me baby,” he praised as you keened under him, “so wet.” the force of his movements increased as pleasure continued to pool in your stomach. “j-jiminie,” you pleaded as you pressed down on his fingers. “be patient, baby,” jimin’s fingers curled inside of you, reaching a place that made you see stars.
taehyung: taehyung was ruthless, pressing fingers deep inside you and placing kitten licks on your clit. “you like that, babe?” his voice was deep with lust, “like the feeling of my fingers inside you, huh?” a whine left your mouth at his words and your head trashed against the pillow beneath you. taehyung’s fingers moved faster and faster as the pleasure inside you was reaching it’s breaking point. “cum for me, princess,” he said before sucking on your clit, causing you to cum immediately.
jungkook: jungkook slowly traced his hand up your thigh and under the hem of your skirt, pushing against your slit, making you gasp. “are you alright, y/n?” jimin asked from across the table. you frantically nodded as you tried to close your legs. jungkook growled low enough for only you to hear while whispering in your ear, “you better open your legs right now princess,” a finger moved your underwear to the side and you could barely hold in a moan as a finger slipped inside you.
During the Basic Spellwriting class that Salt hosted tonight on the server, the WAMILY members gathered and constructed a spell together. This was an amazing team effort and the collaboration produced a simple, yet effective spell. This is what they came up with!
PURPOSE OF THE SPELL:
To dream deeply and vividly, and to recall it when you wake.
During the New Moon; and/or on a Saturday (a day of relaxation.) Bonus points if you can score a New Moon on a Saturday!
Each New Moon is a brand new beginning. It offers the opportunity to make a change, to re-orient yourself, or to conjure a new aspect of yourself and your life into being. The energy of the new moon is great for initiating a new project or the start of an adventure. And with it being hidden in darkness, there are parallels drawn between the darker sides of the moon as well as our minds.
Soft Pajamas: for comfort.
Fluffy Pillow: to rest our head, where dreams happen.
Cup of tea: to warm and relax our bodies.
Amethyst: to remove stress, to boost intelligence and promote personality growth, to protect from harmful outside influences, to strengthen memory.
1. On the night of a New Moon (or a Saturday, or both), climb into bed wearing soft pajamas and tea in hand. Sip your tea and focus your energy on a night of restful sleep. Think back on the past vivid dreams you have had and the details of them. You can also set an amethyst by your bedside, under a pillow, or near a window.
2. When your tea is finished and you are sleepy, read the following incantation, focusing on the mysterious, majestic power of the New Moon. Visualize its shadows as a cloak that will conceal you. The New Moon will inspire the start of your adventure in the dreamscape.
3. Recite the following spell:
I ask the New Moon to allow peaceful and calm rest. To the depths of my subconscious, give me access. Let the absence of the Moon be my shield and guide, and when I wake, let the dreams ever-flow to my mind.
4. Turn off the lights, rest your head on your pillow, and allow for your dreams to blossom! In the morning, you should wake and be able to recall the details of the dream. (We suggest writing them down!)
Thanks to everyone who participated in creating this spell! You all are amazing and we cannot wait to see what else our WAMILY creates together!
clingy drunk: he hugs magnus from behind and doesn’t let go, and
when magnus sits down, alec plops on his lap and wraps his arms
around his neck, burying his face in magnus’s neck. when jace
laughs at him, alec tries to punch him and misses.
talkative drunk: every single deeply-held secret suddenly comes
spilling out. alec reveals that he thinks jace’s hair is weird,
that clary and he watch friends together every tuesday, that
izzy singing sounds like a dying demon, and that magnus can do
this thing with his tongue – that’s when magnus shuts him up with
hungry drunk: he asks magnus to conjure up belgian waffles, then a
bacon cheeseburger, then lobster, then ramen from that one little
shop in tokyo, then more alcohol, and inhales it all
sentimental drunk: alec tells jace how much he loves him, and tells
izzy how much he loves her and he’s sorry about the yin fen, and tells clary how she’s actually
tolerable now, and tells simon… whatever and tells raphael he’s
sorry for punching him and tells magnus sorry for almost marrying lydia and sorry for the soul sword
again even though you’ve told me not to apologize and sorry for the
dumb shit i’ve said to you but also i love you i love you i love
you did you know i love you?
judgmental drunk: he sits with magnus in a corner and laughs at how
idiotic everybody looks when they try to dance. and then magnus goes
up to dance too and alec’s jaw drops to the floor as he watches his
boyfriend, and then he gets all “grabby hands” with magnus (see
“i’m not drunk” drunk: insists he’s not drunk even after too
much gin and tonic, laments everybody’s irresponsibility, insists
i’m the head of the institute and i have to take
care of you guys all the time, but then is obviously drunk (see
any other drunk option)
sleepy drunk: three drinks in, his head is pillowed on magnus’s
shoulder, eyes half closed, and moments later he’s snuffling as he
sleeps, a little smile on his face while his cheeks still glow red
and a chuckling magnus kisses his forehead
“God, look at you,” Tom whispered, his voice rough as his lips played connect the dots with the small freckles and moles scattered across your chest. “You look so good right here,” his lips met your jaw, sucking harshly when you tugged his hair, “you look so good under me.” You went to say something but his cold hands slipping into your sweatpants and touching your hot skin made you gasp, urging Tom on more.
“Tom,” you whispered, silently begging him to do something but not being able to form an actual sentence.
“Darling, patience is a virtue.” You rolled your eyes, your comeback stuck in your throat when his hands fingers danced over your clothed heat. “Did you have something you want to say, my love?” His voice changed from a delicate whisper to a deeper, rougher tone. “Nothing?” You managed to shake your head, feeling his cold fingers dip into your underwear, a prominent smirk on his face. “Hm, I didn’t think so.”
You restrained another eyeroll, your legs trying to close around his hand to encourage him. You whined when his free hand came to separate them, hearing him softly ‘tsk’ you. “Tom, you’re such a tease.” You huffed, reaching your hands out to grab his cheeks and pulling him up to kiss you. Your hands slipped from from behind his neck to the top of his boxers. Before your hands could dip any further, his hand came down to grasp your wrist, causing you to groan in annoyance.
“Baby, be good,” he pulled away from you and lowered himself. You almost let out another pathetic attempt to beg him to get him to speed up his teasing when you felt his cold fingers slip into your underwear. “Fuck, honey,” he whined, letting his fingers slip into you slightly, feeling your anticipation. “You are being good, aren’t you, pretty girl?” You nodded vigorously, bucking your hips to force his fingers to perform a different motion, which he happily obliged.
“God, Tom,” you whispered, one hand reaching down to grip his wrist while the other carded freely through his newly cut hair. It wasn’t styled, resulting in it being messily scattered around his head, slight waves forming on top of his head. “You’re so fucking good at this,” a light gasp leaving your lips mid-sentence as his fingers circled roughly against you.
“Tell me, baby,” his rigid voice called out from beneath your waist, “tell me how good it is.” You whined, pulling his hair again. He pulled his mouth away from you slightly causing you to complain. He licked his lips, rising to your ear, his fingers still toying with you. “Darling, tell me,” he placed a kiss to the shell of your ear, “I need you to tell me how good it feels, baby. Or else – I can’t continue.”
“No! I – fuck, Tom.” You felt him smirk against your cheek, his head slowly kissing his way back to where he previously was. “Baby, don’t stop I – oh, god,” your eyes squeezed shut when his hot breath hit you, “I need this – you – I need you. And, god, fuck me you’re so good – so, so good.” His fingers quickened their pace, moaning into you softly, driving you over the edge. “Tom, oh my, god.” You almost came undone – and then you felt an absence. “Tom, what the fuck!”
You looked toward him, seeing him lick his lips and wipe his chin. He walked toward the bedside table and picked up his ringing phone. “Hello? Oh, shit. Yeah, give me a second.” You looked at him confusingly, rubbing your thighs together in frustration.
“Are you done?” You asked, seeing him hang up the phone. He slid on his jeans and grabbed a flannel, lazily buttoning it up. “Where are you going?” He frowned at you, leaning over you on the bed to kiss you.
“I gotta go back to set – they need me for a reshoot.”
“Please tell me you’re joking,” you groaned, ceasing your thighs as you flipped onto your stomach and shoved your head into a pillow. Tom chuckled softly, rubbing your back.
“I’m sorry, darling, I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
“You’re such a fucking tease.” You whined, flipping onto your back again to face him. You brought your hands to the back of his neck, pulling him into you to kiss him again. Your teeth immediately nipped at his bottom lip, causing him to smile. You pushed him away from you slightly. “When you get back,” you whispered, “you better fucking wreck me.” Tom laughed loudly, dropping his head to your neck.
“You don’t know what you’ve just gotten yourself into, love.”
The one where Y/N loves Harry’s mouth, and he loves eating her out.
She was frustrated.
All day, her mind had been tortured with thoughts of him that did exceedingly well to get her panties wet, and heart hammering against her chest. Starting from when she woke up alone this morning, she’d felt a need for him. He’d left early because of meetings, and she had to go to work. She was slightly grumpy and frustrated that she didn’t get to have him that morning. Carried a pouty lip to work with her. The thoughts followed her—haunted her—she felt like. She couldn’t focus her mind on anything else - mental images of Harry’s mouth grazing her neck while his fingers worked on her clit, or how dark his eyes would get when he stared up at her with his tongue licking stripes all over her heat, distracting her from everything she had to get done.
So, when she gets home, she’s quick to run to him and press her lips against his soft ones. God, she loves his lips, they’re so good.
anon requested: Heyo could I request some step brother chanyeol smut where they don’t get along and are constantly teasing each other (in a sexy way?). One day chanyeol is going through the girls Phone and finds her daddy kink bdsm Tumblr and decides to punish her ;) in turn some kinky sex with spanking and bondage. (Lol sorry this is so detailed chanyeol has been fucking me up lately)
Pairing: Yoongi x reader Genre: Fluff, a lot of smut Warnings: Mature content Word Count: 4.5K
His voice was almost a whisper, warm breath hitting the shell of your ear. And the heat coupled with the slow, savory movements of his fingers overtop the thin fabric had an almost numbing effect, your mind drawing a blank as you enter an intoxicating haze.
“I thought there was no punishment?” you manage to say, swallowing back the moans that threatened to escape. “This is a demonstration baby, not a punishment.”