Marinette ignored the harsh glow of the screen on her eyes as she scrolled through her laptop, looking at websites that would probably get her arrested.
In her defence, she was doing it for a good reason. Which usually meant it was for the safety of the miraculous.
But no one needed to know that.
“Marinette,” Tikki said, floating by her owner. “I’m sure whatever you’re searching for can wait for a few hours, while you sleep.”
The fashion designer groaned, running her stiff fingers through her hair that was sticking out in various directions.
“No, Tikki, it can’t because if it goes too far,” Marinette said, closing a tab furiously. “It’s going to destroy our planet as we know it.”
Tikki stared at her, completely unfazed. “Well then take a break. I’m sure the world is not going to end in the next few seconds.”
Marinette paused her blindingly fast typing, considering Tikki’s offer.
Her answer was an immediate and resounding no.
The other kwamis who had come to support Tikki’s point sighed in annoyance.
“Really, Guardian,” said Wayzz, floating next to Tikki, “I would very much like it if you listened to Tikki; what you are doing is nothealthy. Also, Master Fu once told me, if you take a break, sometimes what you’re looking for appears right after.”
Thatmade Marinette pause. And her rumbling stomach, but we’re just going to ignore that for now.
“Well,” Marinette stretched the word out, her eyes flicking from kwami to kwami. “I supposeI could take a few minutes break.”
The cheers of the kwami echoed around the penthouse.
Marinette sighed in bliss as she took a sip of her coffee, feeling a little less tired than before.
“Coffee,” she announced, carefully sitting on her couch. “Is god’s gift to Earth.”
“Nah, Pigtails,” Plagg said, floating in front of her. “It’s cheese. Always and forever.”
He groaned in delight as he gobbled up a large piece of cheese.
Giving him the stink-eye, Marinette turned back to her laptop, continuing her search.
“If I could just find the name…” Marinette took another sip of her coffee before typing furiously again.
“If I may ask,” said Nooroo, blinking his large eyes. “What exactlyare you looking for?”
Marinette stretched her back, cringing at the loud crackit let out. “I’m looking for an alien. His name is Thanos. Or something like that.”
“Then I suppose we can help each other.”
Marinette froze as the familiar, smooth and silky voice of Damian Al-Ghul rung in her ears.
She turned around slowly, cringing at her state, slipping her confident mask on.
“Al-Ghul,” she said coolly, straightening her back. By now, all of the kwamis had flown into their respective hiding places, knowing who Damian was. “What are you doing here?”
Currently, Damian was perched upon her windowsill, which, for your reference, was quite high up in the sky.
“First,” he asked smoothly, deep voice rippling. “May I come in?”
At her suspicious look, he held his hands up, leaving him in a precarious position. “I don’t have any weapons. I have not come here, intending to fight with you.”
At Marinette’s signal from behind her back, Plagg and Wayzz flew around Damian, scanning him for any weapons.
Plagg flew in front of her after a few seconds, casually saying, “He’s clear, Pigtails.”
Toocasually.
Marinette saw the look in his eyes and mentally pinched her nose because it meant that Plagg wanted to tell her something.
It could wait.
“All right,” Marinette said, suddenly aware of her hair and how it must be looking. “Come in.”
Before she had even finished her sentence, Damian was already leaping inside, like a cat.
Oh kwami, Marinette thought, suddenly having an inkling of what Plagg wanted to tell her.
She really hoped she was wrong.
Once Damian was standing in front of her, Marinette stalked towards him, eyes cold as ice. “Now answer my question from before, Al-Ghul. Why are you here?”
Damian gave her that infuriating smirk, the one she still remembered from when he kidnapped her two weeks ago.
“I assume we are both looking for the same…alien,” he said, looking slightly annoyed at the thought. “Thanos.”
Marinette raised her eyebrows, unwilling to believe him. “I suppose we are. Provided you are telling the truth.”
“I am,” Damian said, looking more annoyed now. “Some of my assassins are going off track, assassinating people who they shouldn’t be. I have been forced to dispose of them, their actions drawing too much attention to the League. I did my research a week ago and came across the same name you did, as well as the word ‘miraculous.’ I suppose that explains your involvement as well.”
Marinette was intrigued now, Wayzz’s confirmation that Damian was telling the truth reassuring her. “Well, did you come across the term infinity stones?”
“I did.” Damian looked and soundedcompletely confused, proving to Marinette that this was something out of their world, something that none of them knew.
“Well,” Marinette knew she was making a terrible decision and she should probably stop herself but two minds were better than one right?
“How about working together to figure this out?”
Marinette would remember Damian’s expression for the rest of her life because it was thatpriceless.
Marinette felt her body ache as she returned to the world of the living…not literally of course.
As her depleted senses recharged, Marinette slowly heard four voices around her.
“Her heartbeat’s normal, how are we going to know when she wakes up?” said one voice that Marinette recognized as Jason’s.
“When her eyes open, obviously,” Tim said, without his usual snark, though.
Wishing she could roll her eyes at their childish argument, Marinette futilely tried to open her eyes.
But her body had decided to not cooperate, and instead, Marinette remained motionless to outside eyes.
If it wasn’t for the monitor beside her, some would consider Marinette to be dead.
Which would be very concerning, considering the fact that she still had the whole of Paris to save.
Instead, Marinette resigned herself to the fate of listening to the Wayne brothers bickering between each other, and keeping her sarcastic comments to herself.
The raunchy tune of Dick’s phone filled the silence in the room, and if Marinette focused reallyhard, she could hear the snickers that Damian was valiantly trying to hide, in order to maintain his icy persona.
Although, Marinette couldn’t blame him for laughing.
Dick’s 90s era ringtone was hilarious, especially the singer’s voice.
Often, Dick claimed he put it as his ringtone as a joke, but Marinette knew better, especially when she was witness to Dick changing it on a night when he was particularly drunk.
That was a story for another time.
But for now, Marinette made a mental note to use it as blackmail material for Damian later.
Even though no one knew, Damian Wayne got around, especially with his silent footsteps.
He had loadsof material on everyone in the family (but not as much as Tim) but never made any move to use it unless it suited him.
Obviously, Marinette could make better use of it.
Wow, she thought with a healthy amount of wariness, it seemed like Chloe was rubbing off on her.
Speak of the devil and she shall appear.
The door slammed open in typical Chloe Bourgeois style and Marinette wished she could look up to see the Wayne brothers’ expressions as they faced the brunt of Chloe’s fury.
It would have been a sight to see, and Marinette sighed (as much as she could since she was still paralysed).
“What. The. Fuck.” Chloe punctuated each word with a menacing pause. “Happened to her?”
There was silence for a few moments.
“Well?” Chloe demanded, tapping her foot impatiently. “Answer me! It better be honest because as Marinette’s best friend, I have every right to sueyou-”
“Marinette overestimated herself,” Damian stated bluntly, and if Marinette were able to move(hint, hint, Tikki), she would have recoiled in faux hurt. “She used too much of her powers and hence passed out.”
If Marinette could look up, she would have seen the adoring look in Damian’s eyes as he watched Chloe curse Marinette to hell and back.
Later, Tim would snicker and tell her allabout Damian’s newest crush i.e. Chloe Bourgeois, Queen Bee, herself.
Marinette would laugh herself silly.
“Honestly woman,” Jason said, having recovered his manly confidence. “Language! You don’t want to scar the children’s ear in here!”
To emphasize his statement, Jason covered Tim’s ears with a pat on his head. “Don’t worry Timmy, this is just adult stuff you don’t need to learn.”
Jason was rewarded with cold coffee being dumped over his head.
Tim smirked as Jason ran out of the room, swearing about idiot brothers. “Now who’s the one swearing?”
Marinette huffed out a laugh, forgetting she had been paralyzed for the last few hours.
Immediately, in a ruffle of shoves, ouches and swear words, several people were crowded around her.
Realizing she was no longer paralyzed, Marinette thanked Tikki mentally, and experimentally wiggled her fingers.
Slowly, she began to open her eyes, expecting the harsh light of hospitals.
Instead, that light was muted by the heads of several people above her.
Marinette groaned loudly, feeling the aching stiffness in her neck. “How long do you guys plan to stand around my bed like creepers? I’ll plan the rest of my day - or what’s left of it - accordingly.”
“Well,” Tim said, after a few moments of silence. “We know she’s not insane now.”
Lady Noire smirked as she silently jumped through the window, executed a smooth flip and landed on her feet.
The museum was deathly silent, as expected because it was precisely three o'clock in the morning.
Her eyes searched around the exhibit she was in, looking for the lost miraculous.
It was, unfortunately, quite a large one, specifically, a belt. It gave the wearer the ability to, quite literally, become a fish, and Lady Noire wrinkled her nose at the thought of that.
With the help of her night vision, Lady Noire was able to locate the miraculous within seconds.
It was stored in a glass box, right in the corner of the room where no one would notice if it disappeared.
Stealthily striding towards it, Lady Noire nimbly dodged the museum’s security cameras and whispered a soft, “Cataclysm.”
The glass she put her hand on turned to ash immediately and with a small smirk, Lady Noire carefully held the belt.
As she turned to leave, Lady Noire froze, cat ears twitching, hearing the light sound of wind rustling.
Turning around completely, her bright green eyes narrowed as they landed on the vigilante in front of her.
“Nightwing.”
The vigilante gave her what she considered to be a smirk and straightened his back from where he was leaning.
“Noire.”
The first time Lady Noire had met him, she was frozen for a few seconds because she hadn’t expected his voice to be so…attractive.
But she was used to it now.
Kind of.
There were times - like this - where she would go silent in shock. It was rather embarrassing, to be honest.
“What, cat got your tongue?” Nightwing said, and Lady Noire could practically hearhow smug he was.
“Nope.” Lady Noire popped the ‘p’ and gave him a smirk of her own. “Just planning my escape route.”
Twirling her baton, Lady Noire extended it and with a short salute, she was out of the museum in seconds.
As soon as she landed on the roof, Lady Noire began to run, jumping over the gaps between the buildings.
Her cat ears twitching, she was surprised to find no noise whatsoeverbehind her.
Usually, Nightwing was seconds behind her, calling out flirty remarks that occasionallymade her blush.
In her confusion of the lack of noise, Lady Noire didn’t notice the escrima stick flying towards her.
It hit her square in the chest, and she stumbled back with the force of it.
Seconds later, Nightwing was on the roof and Lady Noire was forced to dodge his punches and kicks.
She remembered the first time he fought her, unwilling to harm a woman. Lady Noire left him with a lotof bruises that night.
Not this time, unfortunately.
Nightwing seemed determined to stop her and Lady Noire couldn’t help but give an annoyed grunt because of all the times she had stolen something, he hadto come on the day she was taking what was, technically, rightfully hers.
Lady Noire cursed herself as Nightwing gave her a painfulkick to her ribs.
Wheezing, she asked, “What happened to being the gentleman you claimed you were?”
“I am,” Nightwing said, stillattacking her. “Just not for you.”
“Ah,” Lady Noire gave him a sultry smirk. “So you like it rough?”
Nightwing’s cheeks darkened marginally and Lady Noire gave herself a congratulatory laugh.
It was abruptly cut off when Nightwing kicked her hardon the stomach.
Lady Noire fell back onto the roof with a loud bang, the breath knocked out of her.
She swore loudly, attempting to get up.
It was thwarted a few seconds later when Nightwing, straddled her, fingers gripping her arms tightly.
“The belt, Noire,” he said harshly.
Ignoring the odd stinging in her heart (Nightwing was her enemy, she knew nothingabout him), Lady Noire gave him a pained smirk. “Bold of you to assume I even have it on me.”
Nightwing sputtered, eyes raking up and down her body.
In any other situation, Lady Noire would have been excited, but right now, she was just nervous.
The belt, in actuality, was right on her waist.
Her abilities as the Guardian allowed her to make the miraculous invisible, but only for a short amount of time.
Speaking of time, both Lady Noire and Nightwing jumped as a loud beeping filled the air around them.
“Shit.” Lady Noire swore as she saw her ring.
The cataclysm.
She only had 3 minutes exactlybefore she detransformed in front of Nightwing.
“What the hellis that?” Nightwing stared at her ring. “Don’t tell me you’re going to blow this place up.”
“Don’t be an idiot,Nightwing,” Lady Noire snapped, mind racing. How was she going to get out of this? “I’m not suicidal.”
“Thenwhatis it?”
Nightwing was glaring at her and for the first time, Lady Noire noticed the blue of his eyes.
Usually, in the darkness, she didn’t notice it, but at that moment it struck her quite hard.
Maybe that was what prompted her to do what she did.
Lady Noire wrapped her arms around Nightwing’s neck and pressed her lips on his.
Soft,was the first thing that came to her mind.
Nightwing’s lips were unbearably soft, a pillowy kind of soft. It made kissing him all the more enjoyable.
His hair was alsosoft. Lady Noire tangled her hands in the dark strands and he grunted, relaxing against her.
In a few seconds, they were heatedly kissing, tongues dancing together, hands roaming around each other.
Their moment of heat was rudely interrupted with anotherloud beep from Lady Noire’s ring.
The green light was flashing urgently now, as it disappeared from sight.
The two of them pulled apart, breathing heavily.
Lady Noire was now standing, pushed against a wall at some point. It took her a few seconds to catch her breath.
Once she did so, Nightwing still looked dazed, so she shot him an apologetic smirk. “My apologies, Nightwing. But you can consider it payback for before.”
Shoving him backwards, Lady Noire kicked him on the chest and he went flying.
As she launched herself off the roof, Lady Noire said, “We should do that again sometime! It was fun.”
And she disappeared into the darkness.
The only thing was…she didn’t see the smug smirk on Nightwing’s face as he fingered the belt wrapped around his hand.
He’d played her as much as she had played him, Lady Noire would later realize.
Marinette stuck her tongue out as she opened the bottle of bright, brightgold glitter.
The bottle was humongous, with a largeamount of glitter filling it up to the tip.
With her experience as a designer (and Manon’s demands), Marinette knew justhow explosive and stickyglitter was.
As a teenager, when Marinette was still what she considered was a rookie designer, her clumsiness often resulted in glitter coating her room.
It was absolutely painfulto try and get it out once it was stuck.
To be honest, Marinette thought that they should put a hazard sign on glitter because it was just thatpainful.
Hence her caution now.
Making sure the bottle was absolutelystraight, Marinette twisted the bottle cap slowly with a towel around her hand, so the cap wouldn’t slip through her hands.
Although her clumsiness had receded in her recent years as the Ladybird of Gotham, it was still prone to come out at the most inopportunetimes and with a material like glitter, Marinette wasn’t risking it.
“You know,” A voice said from right behind her. “You don’t haveto open the bottle so slowly. It’s not going to explode, Mari.”
Marinette shrieked, the bottle tipping slightly.
A single flake of glitter fluttered down to the floor before Marinette managed to straighten the bottle again.
“Oh my gods, Dick!” She breathed, turning around and facing the grinning man in front of her. “Neverdo that again; especially not when I have glitter in my hands.”
Her boyfriend shot her that cheeky grin she loved and held his arms out for a hug.
Marinettecarefullyset the bottle on her desk and wrapped her arms around Dick, drowning in his scent.
Pressing a kiss to the top of her head, Dick asked her, “So which of your clients demanded glitter on their clothes?”
“Audrey Bourgeois.” Marinette mumbled against his chest. “Something about a new fashion line?”
Dick snorted. “I don’t think she understands how chaoticit’s going to end up.”
“Oh, Mr Grayson,” said a sharp voice from the doorway. “I know exactlyhow chaotic it willbe.”
Audrey Bourgeois strode into the spacious office as if she owned it. “Now, Marinette, would you like to show me what you have made up till now?”
It was an order phrased like a question.
Marinette reluctantly untangled herself from Dick and pulled out the dress she had made.
She was very proud of it, having spent hoursworking on her latest creation. The only thing left was the glitter - something she had put off until the end, just in case things got out of control.
Audrey scrutinised the dress with pursed lips as Marinette eyed the glitter bottle on her desk with something close to hostility.
The gold glitter sparkled from the light in the studio, creating a blinding ball of light on her desk.
“Stare any harder, Mari,” Dick mumbled from next to her, “And it’s going to burn.”
“Maybe it should,” she muttered back, still glaring fiercely at it. “I hateglitter.”
“Well,” Audrey interrupted their conversation. “The dress is acceptable, Marinette. Where do you plan on adding the glitter?”
As she gestured to the places where she was going to add the glitter, Marinette internally rolled her eyes at Audrey’s inability to dish out a properly framed, genuinecompliment.
After she was done explaining, Marinette stood by Dick who, thank the gods, was still there.
Probably because he knew how much Marinette disliked glitter and that paired with her rarely-found explosive temper was notgoing to end well.
Audrey hummed. “It isan adequate idea.”
She looked at Marinette and pointed at the dreadedglitter bottle. “Add the glitter and send me the dress. Then we can talk about payment.”
Marinette nodded politely and Audrey pulled out her phone, already yelling at her chauffeur.
Onceshestalked out, Marinette let out an exaggerated sigh. “At least she liked it.”
Dick shot her an amused smirk. “You thought she wasn’t going to?”
Marinette shrugged. “You never know with Audrey Bourgeois.”
She walked towards the glitter bottle and screwed it shut tightly. “There. Now the bottle isn’t going to just randomly explode.”
“You worry too much.” Dick said, holding her hand and pulling her to the door. “Let’s go out for lunch, yeah?”
Marinette shot him a dazzling grin. “Just give me a minute to cover the dress.”
◇─◇──◇─◇
Downstairs, Tim shrieked as he ran from Jason, jumping over the railing.
He had just accidentallydropped some coffee on Jason’s favourite fluffy slippers and now said man was chasing him through the house.
“Timmy!” Jason was yelling. “I swear to godyou better come back here right now.”
Obviously, he wasn’t going to, but Tim applauded Jason’s futile efforts to coerce him into coming back.
Tim ran up the stairs, two at a time, and carefully set his coffee cup on the side table.
It wouldn’t do for it to break.
Once he did that, he took off, faster, now that he didn’t have his coffee cup in hand.
The familiar open doors of Marinette’s studio welcomed him and an idea began to bloom in Tim’s head.
Marinette said she was getting glitter today…
◇─◇──◇─◇
Jason narrowed his eyes at the double doors of Marinette’s studio.
He was well-aware that Tim was inside and it was becauseTim was inside, that Jason walked in warily, eyes and ears alert.
That was until a flurry of glitter fell straight on his head.
Golden glitter coated Jason from head to toe and without even thinking about it, Jason sprinted out of the room like his life depended on it.
He knew justhow much Marinette hated glitter and finding out it was all over her studio?
Well that wasn’t going to end well.
◇─◇──◇─◇
“Istilldon’t understand how you take your coffee with so much sugar and not get high,” Dick said, walking with Marinette on the streets of Gotham. “But maybe it’s because you like your coffee as dark and bitter as your soul.”
Marinette shoved him lightly. “Shut up, you dork.”
Dick shot her a cheesy grin. “But I’m yourdork, aren’t I?”
“Sometimes,” Marinette took a welcomed sip of her coffee, “I wonder why I love you.”
“It’s because of my dashing looks, love.” Dick said, donning a British accent.
Marinette laughed as he ran over to the door and held it open for her. “Ladies first.”
Blowing him a kiss, she walked in and Dick quickly followed, offering his arm to her.
They kept up the act for a few seconds before they broke down into fits of giggles.
Still laughing as they entered Marinette’s studio, they didn’t notice the glitter-covered surfaces until a bag of the cursed substance fell on them.
Gasping, the Marinette sputtered as her vision was covered with an influx of gold. “What the hell?”
Dick was stumbling around like a headless chicken, his hands waving around. “What’s happening? Has someone broken in?”
As funny as that was, Marinette decided to calm him down. “Nothing’s happened…except for someone dropping the glitter on us.”
Her gaze went to the bottle she had left on the table, and sure enough, it was empty.
“If you wish to know who was responsible for this,” Damian stood, leaning against the doorway with a smirk. “I can tell you…for a price.”
Marinette whirled around. “Absolutely. What’s the price?”
“Your next cookie batch.”
Dick gasped theatrically in the background. “No.”
Whirling to him now, Marinette glared at him. “No? The perpetrators need to be punished, Dick. I am the queen of all pranks and I will remainthe queen of pranks.”
Said man turned to Damian. “Ask for something else, Damian.”
“I shall not.” was the prompt answer. “I want the cookies and the cookies only.”
Marinette, whose back was to Damian, shot Dick a wink. “Alright, I agree to your terms. I will give you the next batch I make. Who did this?”
Damian shot her a narrow-eyed look but still answered. “Drake and Todd.”
“Done. The cookies will be for you.” Marinette gave him a smirk and turned to Dick. “Come on Grayson, let’s get revenge and then I’ll bake two batches; one for you and one for Damian.”
Dick grinned as he pressed his lips to his girlfriend’s. “Let’s.”
summary: “i dare you to go to that man there,” alya pointed at an, admittedly, handsome man, “and ask him out on a date using puns.” alya finished her dare with a smug smirk.
Marinette eyed her best friend with a healthy amount of cautiousness. Alya could be extremely…daringwhen it came to giving dares.
The two of them were playing a game of Truth or Dare in a coffee shop – she knows, notthe ideal place but they were bored.
“I dare you to go to that man there,” Alya pointed at an, admittedly, handsome man, “And ask him out on a date-”
Marinette waited for the other shoe to drop – there was literally no way Alya was going to let her get off so easy. Because, like, even if she wasn’t dared, Marinette would definitely ask him out.
“-using puns.” Alya finished her dare with a smug smirk.
Marinette groaned loudly and pointed an accusing finger at her. “I can’t believe you’re-”
She paused when she saw her dark-haired (with a shock of white) turn around – curious to see who made that noise.
“-actually going to make me do that.” Marinette continued in a significantlysofter voice.
Alya grinned at her – wickedly, she might add. “That’s the point, Mari.” She sing-songed.
Her best friend made her hands into a shooing motion. “Now go. You gotta ask someone out, girl!”
Marinette huffed and dragged herself behind the man as he waited for the person in front of him.
Pausing, she made a mental list of all the coffee-themed puns she could use and took a deep breath.
◇─◇──◇─◇
Jason turned around when he felt a light finger tap him on the shoulder.
He wasn’t exactly surprised to see the girl who groaned before behind him, grinning.
She said, “I seem to like you a latte.”
Jason’s eyebrows shot up. He was expecting somekind of flirting, but definitely not thiskind. Nevertheless, he played along, “Really? And who would you be?”
The female giggled. “Marinette,”
“Well, now, Marinette,” Jason bowed gallantly, “My name is Jason. And may I add you are brew-tiful?” He even added a wink on for a good measure.
Marinette’s eyes brightened as he set the unspoken challenge. “It seems like we’re the blend then, aren’t we?”
His response was interrupted when the bored barista at the counter said, “If you two are done flirting, could you please order? There areothers behind you, you know.”
Jason turned around, giving a half-hearted apology and placed his order. He turned to ask Marinette what she wanted. “Do you want to order anything?”
Marinette nodded and gave him her order.
Once they got their steaming cups of coffee, she grinned. “Thanks a latte, Jason.”
Jason resisted the urge to one-up her and instead asked, “Would you like to go on a date with me? A real one, this time, not as a dare.”
Marinette grinned at him sheepishly. “When did you figure that out?”
“Wasn’t that difficult, seeing as your friend isn’t quitethat quiet.” Jason stifled a laugh when her cheeks pinked a little.
“Actually, I would like that very much.” Marinette dug around for something in her purse. She scribbled something on the paper she pulled out and handed it to him. “Here’s my number. Call me up, yeah?”
Jason nodded and she grinned brightly at him. “Guess I’ll be seeing you around, hot stuff.”
He couldn’t stop the grin that spread across his face when he heard that.
Magnus leans back in the rattan chair and chooses ‘truth’.
“Are you a top or a bottom?” Jace asks.
Alec hits his parabatai over the head with one of the firm pillows from the sofa. They started to play stupid party games after realising that the born and raised shadowhunters never had heard of them. Alec is already regretting agreeing to it.
“Ouch!” Jace hisses, rubbing the painful spot. “It’s just a question.”
“He needs to answer,” Izzy points out, sounding as if she were a judge proclaiming a sentence, and takes a sip from her wine glass.
“I have no problem answering that,” Magnus says. Alec grabs his arm, eyes full of concern, but his boyfriend pats his hand. “It’s okay, Alexander. I’m not ashamed of who I am.” He leans closer to Jace and says, “It depends on the cuddle pile. I don’t want too many people on top of me. But if it’s six or less, I’m fine being at the bottom.”
Jace blinks at him while Clary falls giggling against her boyfriend’s shoulder.
“That’s not what I meant,” Jace grumbles.
“Wait,” Simon calls. “You’re fine with six people on top of you? I know you’re immortal, but as a warlock you still need to breathe, right?”
“Of course. But I actually like it sometimes—the pressure, the surrender, the feeling of being one with everyone around. Back in the 1960s, we did it all the time. We cuddled a lot. I think at some point I had The Stones and The Beatles all over me, if you know what I mean,” Magnus says and winks at Simon.
“You married the best and worst liar of all time, bro,” Jace chuckles.
“I’m not lying, Jonathan. I’m embellishing the truth,” Magnus says and snaps his fingers. Two photographs appear in his hand, one showing Paul McCartney kissing Magnus’ cheek, the other Janis Joplin sleeping wrapped over his chest.
“Damn!” Simon breathes.
“Did you sleep with them?” Clary blurts out.
“A gentleman never tells, biscuit,” Magnus replies and cuddles against his husband.
“Smooth,” Alec whispers into his ear.
“I always am, my love.”
“I still don’t believe it. No one can enjoy lying buried under a pile of people,” Jace says, mirth sparkling in his eyes.
“Is that a challenge, Mr Herondale?”
“It sure is, Mr Lightwood-Bane.”
Magnus snaps his fingers, and the coffee table is replaced with a pile of pillows.
Magnus swirls around elegantly and lands in it with a giggle.
“Challenge accepted,” he chuckles.
Alec rolls his eyes but joins him. Izzy, Clary, and Simon follow soon after, building a giggling and snickering pile of bodies.
“Come, Jonathan. I can take it.”
“Why can’t you say anything without sounding naughty?” Jace asks.
“It’s a natural talent,” Magnus quips.
“C'mere,” Alec orders. “We all know you want to.”
Jace rolls his eyes. “This is ridiculous.”
“You started it,” Magnus points out.
Jace shakes his head and carefully lowers himself onto Simon’s back.
