charred leaves

cold coffee. (m)

pairing: jungkook | reader

genre: smut

word count: 4,564

description: “I wasn’t referring to verbal truth. I was referring to,” and then there was a brief pause that was followed by a light press to the center of your stomach. Your back laid flat against the wooden bench before the predatory loom of his figure appeared overhead, “Candor of the body. Which you, my love, are the absolute queen of.”

cr.


With an exchanged swipe, taste forthcoming as the two of you had intended. Too sweet, muttered against your lips – lips that curved into ones of amusement at his feigned disfavor for your particular arrangement of the poison. Too bitter, slipped past your teeth in retort, the air of the syllables brushing against his breath; a dance of icy exhales in a burning winter night. His mouth twitched at that, following your suit into similar enjoyment of the playful critique.

“Maybe not my coffee, but sweet in other aspects, no?” He spoke in a devilish dialect of insinuation and lust. One that, before encountering him, was unfamiliar to you. Adoration, it managed to claw at your chest with great vigor each and every time he glanced down at you through darkened tufts of raven hair. His words wrapping their way around you entirely until they sounded of music. The notes gliding across your bones as his voice conducted your motions.

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6

40+ Up: Ban Ji Yeon (Witch’s Romance)

Coldest Winter (Newt x Reader)

Originally posted by your-harry-potter-imagines

For the lovely anon who requested: Newt imagine where Tina is jealous of you (newts long time best friend) and she keeps taking his attention off of you and you feel like he doesn’t want you around anymore and he finds you packing your stuff to leave or something? (He loves you tho)

Words: ~1800

Rating: Confessional, loving fluff that is guaranteed to cure your ailments for the day. <3

Hope you enjoy!


She was jealous.

You knew for a fact Tina Goldstein was resentful of the close relationship you shared with Newt Scamander, whom she had quickly taken a sort of “liking” to since the nearly catastrophic events in New York a few days ago.

The worst part was that you weren’t any better than her. Envy seeped through your skin when she made Newt smile, laugh, or impressed him with her captivating conversation and undeniable charm. You couldn’t completely blame her though, who wouldn’t fall for the loving, timid Hufflepuff?

Tina shamelessly flirted with your magizoologist every chance she got, only provoking the fire of bitterness that charred your insides black, leaving you empty and longing. Years spent traveling together had kindled a friendship between you and Newt that you treasured dearly. Over time, however, your fondness only grew with every freckled smile he threw your way, falling harder and faster than you ever thought possible. Newt’s lingering stares, adorably stuttered compliments and constant eagerness to keep close to you gave you the impression he felt the same.

And now, it seemed your progress over the years had come to a crashing halt in a matter of days.

You observed Tina’s latest attempt at winning Newt’s affections from the corner of your vision as you stared out into the snowy New York streets, absentmindedly tracing random designs on the frosted windowpane in the parlor. You couldn’t stop the barrage of destructive thoughts that scurried to the forefront of your mind: Tina was heart-stoppingly attractive, intelligent, and kept a smile on Newt’s face, just as he deserved.

You felt cold, yet almost desired to be numb for the off-chance it would ease the throbbing ache that settled in your chest when you took note of how content Newt seemed to be in Tina’s company. He chuckled at her story you had stopped listening to, grinning at her in a way that made you consider the possibility he did in fact like her better and wasn’t just being polite as usual…

Their bubbling laughter shattered your concentration, a shiver running down your spine, practically feeling Tina stare daggers into your back as you rubbed your finger raw on the frozen windowpane. “It’s a shame you have to leave so soon…” she trailed off, her exclusive emphasis giving you the urge to shatter the window in fury.

Your heated anger began to subside, however, when you stared out into the white-coated streets, snowflakes leisurely drifting onto dim streetlamps that lined the sidewalks.

You attempted to rid your head of negative thoughts and replace them with fond memories of other cold winter nights you and Newt had spent together, walking through snowy parks, him teaching you to ice skate, or even just cozy evenings inside the suitcase taking care of his wide expanse of creatures.

“Oh, w-well I’m sure Y/n wouldn’t mind if we stayed just a bit longer…um, Y/n?”

The scene outside instantly became much colder in your eyes, harsh and lonely and the coldest winter you’ve experienced, feeling as though the crisp frost from the window soaked into your skin, ice crystallizing your blood and prickling at your bleeding heart.

“I need to go,” you muttered, blinking back tears as you rushed for the guest bedroom.

Newt stood immediately at your hasty exit, ready to pursue until Tina grabbed hold of his forearm, “Newt, she just doesn’t–” Her words fell on deaf ears as Newt watched you slip into the bedroom, flinching as you slammed the door behind you.

The wizard slowly sat on the edge of the sofa grudgingly, gnawing at his lower lip anxiously as he continued to glance behind his shoulder at the bedroom door. He sighed, gaze hardened as he looked to the Goldstein sister with determination. “Tina… we need to talk.”


Everything you had done– devoted yourself to, was for the sake of the magizoologist’s happiness, and if his well-being no longer involved your support, then so be it.

Packing your suitcase became an outlet for the emotional hurricane that tore you apart from the inside out. You violently grabbed your clothes from their hangers, chucking your belongings on the bed unceremoniously and stuffing them forcefully into the case to keep the tears of frustration at bay. All the while, you were cold, the tip of your nose and fingers numbing from your gazing out the window. You ignored the pins and needles in your freezing toes as you shoved another shirt in the case.

You stiffened at the sound of the door squeaking open. “Sorry, Y/n, I was…” the magizoologist trailed off as he came to an abrupt halt upon fully noticing your packing. “W-what are you…doing?” his brow furrowed in nervous confusion.

You paused only for a moment, heart aching and hands shaking as you stared at the last shirt to be packed, crumpled and lonely over the edge of the suitcase.

“Where are you going?” Newt questioned, a new sense of urgency in his tremulous voice as he made his way over to you, his seafoam eyes scanning your blank expression for an answer. He cautiously removed his navy blue coat and gingerly set it on the bed, as if any disturbance would shatter any chance of pulling a response from you. “Y-Y/n?”

“It’s been an honor…” You swallowed thickly, attempting to keep your composure, though your voice continued to waver, “…and a pleasure, thank you for everything.” You forced yourself to look up into the emerald eyes you had come to love once more, only to feel daggers pierce your chest at the thought of leaving them for good. The wizard looked to you with such concern, compassion and care… You didn’t want to leave the man you adored with every bit of your being–

You recognized muffled laughter from the kitchen that reminded you of the scene you witnessed in the parlor, and mentally berated yourself for being so selfish. You wanted the best for Newt, and if he felt his best with Tina, you wouldn’t allow your envy to prevent his happiness.

Newt watched in worry as your sympathetic expression melted into one of pure sorrow, his heart almost breaking at the mere thought of you so upset. “Y/n-?”

“G-goodbye.” You stammered, inhaling sharply and darting around the stunned magizoologist toward the door.

Newt’s jaw hung slightly ajar in shock and panic as you rushed past him. Time felt irrelevant as he watched your retreating form, hurried and stiff, feeling a sense of dread blossom in his chest when he fully processed what you had said.

Taking wide strides, Newt dashed in front of you, flinging his narrow body against the door and gripping the handle for good measure, amber-curls flailing wildly as he frantically shook his head, muttering, “No, no you c-can’t, you can’t–”.

Your breath hitched at the raw fear that laced his wide herbal eyes that locked with yours, surprised at his unexpected fierce determination to keep you from leaving. You fumbled for words, “Newt, I–”

The wizard’s grip on the doorframe tightened, his gaze hardening solemnly. “If y-you leave now…” Newt inhaled deeply, eyes clenching shut as he exclaimed, “I won’t ever love again!”

The intensity that laced his confession left you speechless. It wasn’t so much a threat as it was a statement of fact that seemed to terrify him to the core, his eyes widening in panic and grip on the doorknob so tight his knuckles whitened. “P-please,” he begged, his voice becoming much softer and beseeching, “Don’t leave.”

A yearning to sweep the distraught magizoologist into your arms gnawed away at your soul, a feeling of emptiness apparent as you stared into his vibrant green eyes that were brimming with tears and churning with unspoken hope.

“I won’t,” you blurted quickly, your free hand covering Newt’s on the doorknob reassuringly as you let your suitcase drop to the floor, the floorboards vibrating beneath your feet from the impact. “I won’t…”

For a moment the two of you continued to gaze at one another, the subtle sound of Newt’s heavy breathing barely audible over your anxious heartbeat that thundered in your ears.

It was all Newt could do to keep from collapsing in relief at your words, the panic subsiding as his tense muscles relaxed and whirlwind of fearful thoughts retreated back to darker recesses of his mind. The wizard wasn’t aware of the hot tears that streamed down his freckled cheeks until you tenderly brought your cool hands to his face and gingerly swept them away with the pads of your thumbs. “I’m so sorry, Newt,” you hushed soothingly, feeling your own tears form at realizing your thoughtless mistake, “I won’t ever leave, I promise.”

Newt’s expression relaxed to one of soft joy, raising his warm hands to your wrists to gingerly pull you into his chest and wrap his arms around you in a contented embrace. The natural warmth that he radiated seeped straight into you, thawing your frozen core. He smelled heavily of damp soil and fresh cut wood, the scent you identified as that of home.

“I’m so sorry–”

“Don’t be, love.” Newt hushed, his grip on you tightening protectively.

“No, I am, I was selfish, I was…I was stupidly jealous because, I…I just–” You struggled for words before another thought sent your mind on a new track, “W-wait, what did you mean by never loving again?” you asked hesitantly, hope instantly swelling in your chest as you felt Newt grin against your shoulder.  

He hummed lovingly, the reverberations on your bare shoulder sending goosebumps up your neck. “Y/n, my heart has been in your hands since the beginning.”

You almost could have leaped in joyous surprise, his confession delightfully melting your chilled heart. Your second-thoughts found their way through your throat before you could think over what you were saying, “The way Tina looks at you, t-talks to you, she’s trying to–”

“Though her efforts are quite, um, flattering,” He gave an airy laugh, his thumbs tracing soothing circles along your spine. “I’ve made it clear this evening that my affections are reserved for someone else.”

The stark potency of his words triggered a wave of elation that washed over your entire form, your knees threatening to buckle under you as you hugged the wizard even closer, allowing the flood of euphoric feelings to manifest in a choked sob as you nuzzled into his shoulder.

“Oh dear, that wasn’t meant to make you upset,” Newt cooed, chuckling softly at your passionate response as he fondly planted a kiss just behind your ear.

Despite your emotionally-charged state, you found yourself giggling with a contented smile, “I’ve never been happier, actually.”

The unmistakable sensation of Newt’s contented sigh sent delighted shivers down your spine. “Neither have I…”

You had no idea how long you managed to stand there for the evening, though you both felt you could live in the comfort of one another’s arms for all eternity.


As you walked hand in hand to board the ship to leave New York the next morning, you looked to Newt with the fondest of smiles that he easily reciprocated with a light pink dusting his freckled cheeks.

Your destination may have been back to Britain, but you had truly found home wherever you went with your loving magizoologist.



Hope you enjoyed!

A big thank you to all of those who have liked/reblogged and left such lovely comments, they truly make my day and I cannot express my appreciation enough! <3 It’s a pleasure to write for you all!

Tags: @maybe-maj

Icarus

[AO3]

When Gavin first met Michael, he was intrigued.  Of course he was.  Who wouldn’t be?  That reputation, and all– Mogar, the famous embodiment of rage himself, somehow coaxed into loyalty to Ramsey and the Fakes.  The tirades, the hair-trigger bomb-dropping reflexes (both literal and figurative)– there they all were, capped in auburn curls and slouching against the wall on the day Gavin finally showed up in Geoff’s living room.

Who wouldn’t be interested in that?  

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Fe is a Hearth; Fi is a Flame

These past few days, I’ve been pondering the differences between Fe and Fi in regards to easier typing. Here’s what I’ve come up with:

You know that friend that gives off a warm glow? Whether it’s consistently or occasionally, this friend’s emotions seem to steadily stream out of them like a warm blanket. When it’s time to speak from the heart, they are very naturally comforting. It seems like they can turn the heat up or down depending on what you want (and sometimes what will serve your friend best.) If you would describe your friends’ emotional side as warm, like a hearth or a heater, they’re probably an Fe-user. Even Fe-users like INTP’s and ISTP’s give off this emotional glow when they let their feelings out. They just don’t let those warm and gooey feelings out so freely.

Now, you know that friend that seems to run hot and cold? They are opinionated and fiery, hardly able to hold back the flaming hot tendrils of their feelings, meaning others may get burned. They let their feelings burn with great passion, regardless of how warm or cold the room was to begin with. But, they are talented at using their own personal light to guide those around them towards their own lights lying at the end of their tunnels. When the time comes to share feelings and speak emotionally, you leave them feeling invigorated and inspired, rather than reassured and comforted. Or, you leave charred and burned. If your friend’s emotions are unpredictable and invigorating like an open flame, they’re probably an Fi-user. Even Fi-users like ESTJ’s and ENTJ’s give off this fire. They just don’t let their feelings out as easily.

So, there you have it. Is your friend warm and glowing but occasionally smothering (Fe) or fiery and invigorating but occasionally overpowering (Fi?)

Music Series: Charlie Ain’t Home by ZZ Ward**

Lucy…you ha’ som’ esplainin’ to do!

Okay, when I write my imagines, I don’t want anyone else’s opinion on what the song means because I want the story to be from my own personal interpretation…usually.

After I write and post a story, if I really liked the song, I’ll google the lyric meaning to see how it was similar or varied from my interpretation. But occasionally, I’ll hear and read lyrics that just makes me think there has to be more to it!

This song…when I first read the lyrics, I immediately thought, “Girl, your ass is cheating!” Then I listened to the song with the lyrics and really loved it. The jazzy sound, the dual guitars…I knew there had to be more to this one, so I did google it and I’m glad I did. I didn’t want to write an imagine about her cheating with Harry because Charlie wasn’t home, and that was all I was picking up on. Hell, I’d probably cheat with Harry on Charlie, too, especially if he was a dick or something.

I was pleasantly surprised to find out ZZ’s inspiration for this song was the old Etta James song, “Waiting For Charlie”, with the thought, “What if someone got tired of waiting for Charlie to come home?” Like he was always gone, always leaving her alone and lonely, and she grew tired of it and left his ass…

DING! Winner! Gotta write this one now.

This is “Charlie Ain’t Home” by ZZ Ward, which you can hear on my Spotify playlist called ‘Acoustic Love’ HERE. Thanks for requesting! xo

Shelli

*********************

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8

Yakitomorokoshi from Silver Spoon, Ranma ½, Fantasy Life, My Love Story!!, Gourmet Girl Graffiti, Inari Kon Kon,and SENRAN KAGURA Bon Appétit!

Ingredients
Corn - Preferably Sweet Corn

Sauce Ingredients
3 Parts Soy Sauce
1 Part Mirin

Without removing leaves, peel them back and remove all the silk. Once you’re finished, fold back the leaves and place in corn into some water. Let it soak for about an hour.

If your using a coal grill, light the coal and let them heat up. If you are using a gas grill, set it to medium-high.

Mix the sauce ingredients and set aside.

Take the corn out of the water then place it on the grill. Rotate the corn about a quarter every 5 minutes until the leaves look charred (it’ll take about 20 minutes overall).

Remove from heat and let cool enough to be handle. Remove the leaves, but keep the stem. Brush on the sauce and place it back on the grill. Rotate the corn about a quarter every 30 seconds for about 2 more minutes.

royalfreckles  asked:

PROMPT! "Marry me." Hawke/LI (pick your fave~)

For @dadrunkwriting

Circinae/Fenris • Kirkwall • Post-Chantry Boom

Circinae stood on the steps to the Keep, knees tucked up against her chest. She had discarded her armor in a heap, shivering in the thin chemise and leggings she wore under the heavy metal. She was watching her city burn.

Cullen had been doing well, organizing the remaining Templars, calling in help from the surrounding Circles, putting out the fires that…Anders had caused. Her hands were still stiff with his blood. She hadn’t bothered to wash it off yet.

She didn’t react to the clang of metal behind her, or the feeling of un-gauntleted fingers twining gently through her hair and pulling it out of its tight, militaristic bun. The loose strands whipped around her face in the air, obscuring her vision. She didn’t care. It wasn’t as if she had actually been looking. Watching the city burn beneath her.

“Nae.”

She stiffened at her name, glancing sideways at Fenris. He looked concerned, as though if he moved her she would break like a glass ornament. She lifted her hand and allowed him to thread his fingers through hers. They were so warm. So alive. So real.

“Nae, are you alright?”

She stared blankly out at the city, unable to answer.

“You should get inside. You will catch a cold.”

“Alright.” Her answer was as dead as her emotions.

“Alright.” He settled next to her, pulling her into his chest as she started to shake. “You make this life worth living, Circinae. Never forget that.”

“I’ve fucked everything up.”

“This was not your fault.”

She turned and looked at him, her hand shaking. “And after? When people try to find who to blame? Who are they going to turn to? I killed Anders. I killed Meredith. There’s no Viscount. There’s no Chantry. There’s just… me.”

He blinked, as though thinking hard and looked back out towards the burning city. “So we leave.”

“LEAVE? Now?” Circinae gasped.

“Just for a bit. Just until things calm down,” Fenris continued. “We can go somewhere quiet. For a bit. That derelict cottage near Sundermount maybe.”

“And do what?”

Fenris looked back at her, eyes softening. “We try to live. I… have never gotten the chance to before. Not really.” He sighed heavily. “I know that this… is not the best time to suggest this, but we could… get married.”

The suggestion was so ludicrous Circinae actually laughed. A snorting, halting laugh, but a laugh none the less. It turned into a deep frown as she leaned up against him again, sniffing the air. For the first time all day she could smell the ocean above the smoke and char.

“Alright.”

“Alright?”

“We’ll leave. Get married. Be normal. Just for a little bit,” she whispered. “I like that idea.”

I Think I Like It (Part 2)

Originally posted by kai-tastrophe

Part 1 /

POV: First

Featuring: Kai x Reader



I spent most of the next day in bed, and the day after that as well. I still drug myself to the main house for food, and every time my sister would try to convince me to participate in something, and I’d refused. I really just wanted to get lost in video streaming, books, and my own head.

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Jason Todd will never deny doing horrible things. especially when he deems there no other solution to the situation. he will punch and shoot his way through things before he even tries to use his words. but he is hardly a horrible person. 

this is the boy that likes books more than people. who would rather be surrounded by puppies than women. unlike every other bat-boy ( minus ice berg damian ) has been in ONE sort of canon relationship. and only left her because he felt she’d betrayed the All-Caste. 

yet everyone seems to be under the impression that he is a womanizing misogynist who has no respect for women; sees them as nothing but objects and couldn’t care less about them. 

lets all just remember that Jason Todd is a man who will say anything to push people away and make people hate him. but he will never be an outright disgusting human being who belittles or dehumanizes a woman. 

so jot that down. 

The apple is what kills him.

Char sees it shining on his walk outside the palace, seeming to almost beckon him to take it.

The first bite is bliss, warming him entirely but he falls dead not long after.

He wakes a ghost, feeling alive but not being so, and watching as his uncle takes over the kingdom is devastating. Especially when he learns how it was he died.

Poison.

Days turn into weeks, mourning his life and watching the kingdom his parents had hoped he take over turn into a tyranny.

A month into his haunting prison the smiling man appears.

Eyes shining, glowing, the smiling man offers him something he didn’t think possible.

Give me your heart and I will make you live again.”

Char says yes.

When he comes to life again and takes over it’s different, hollow, and he does not care any longer.

His uncle he sentences to death.

The ball to celebrate his resurrection is a grand affair. He does not expect to see anyone worth note and spends the evening eating without taste and smiling without feeling.

Until a voice interrupts his tedium.

May I have this dance?”

The voice belongs to the smiling man, different now but exactly the same. His silver hair is pulled back, and his eyes no longer glow.

They dance, warmth filling Char as they move, and when his hand is kissed the first words utters is, “Don’t go.”

A smirk.

“was coming to congratulate you,” the smiling man leans in scandalously to whisper in his ear, “Your heart is safe with me.”

Char grabs onto his shoulder, “I feel like a corpse. I haven’t felt a thing in weeks and you here now I…”

The smiling man kisses his cheek.

Say the words, King.”

“I want my heart back.”

The smiling man leans back to stare at him. “You will die.”

“I do not think you want me to die,” Char whispers, smiling truly for the first time in so long, “You are fascinated by me.”

The smiling man’s smile vanishes.

"Do you?”

Char swallows his pride and kneels, the cry of surprise echoing through the room making him determined.

"If you give me back my heart, I will wed you and use all of it to love you the rest of my days.”

The smiling man doesn’t smile at his proposal, leaving Char kneeling as he rushes from the room.

Char feels hollow, a single tear of frustration as every emotion leaves him again.

He excuses himself and lets the guards follow him to the king’s quarters where Char resigns himself to this fate.

Better alive than dead.

When he sleeps it’s fitful, disjointed images filling his head with the smiling man’s face throughout his dreams.

Char is woken from his sleep when he feels his heart returning to him. It’s like he experiences every emotion at once.

He opens his eyes and sees the smiling man kneeling at his bedside.

"I accept.”

Char grabs his hand, “Your name.”

The smiling man brings Char’s hand up to his lips. “Kaecilius.”

Char feels warmed by the name, like he’s learned a secret. “I know you.”

The kiss to his mouth is soft, Kaecilius’s eyes tear filled. “Across many lifetimes, yes,” he smiles sadly, “Sleep, Mylimasis. I will explain in the morning.”

Char does and his dreams are once again filled with Kaecilius though the smiling man looks different. Char sees himself as well answering to a different name which seems to melt from the other man’s lips.

"Hello, Will.”

Originally posted by sweetconformity

Originally posted by baba-yaga-not-only

Originally posted by ireallyhateallofyouguys

A flicker of hope

Hear me.
Won’t you?
This burning flame,
Once shining bright,
Is turning mellow,
A soft candle light?

The spirit dimmed,
It’s will over powered.
In the bustling wind,
It meekly sways,
Ever so carefully,
Passing the glowing hour.

With the oil run out,
Withering we find the wick
Stricken and ashen,
Souls blackened in a fray.
Shadows casted on walls,
Are all that remain.

Before the water,
Douses us all.
Or the once charring flame
Leaves me,
Burning in chaos,
Tell me- no. Give me,
A flicker of hope?

Find a match,
Ignite it all once more.
Turns out,
This wax needn’t go to waste.
I might light myself,
Just to keep you warm enough.

Dick Grayson x Reader

For once, a fic where the Reader actually has a defined set of superpowers- they’re pyrokinetic, have slightly enhanced strength, and can cause explosions. Anyway, this is what I came up with from the three prompts sent by an anon a while ago!


Your name: submit What is this?

“Look out!” Dick shouted, lunging forwards to shove you out of the way of the falling rubble. 

A chunk of rock caught him in the head, and he grunted and dropped to hands and knees. Blood dripped down the side of his head, and you turned towards the terrorists with your eyes glowing like embers.

The guy holding the rocket launcher dropped it and turned to run as you ran forwards, the fire searing through you and clouding your vision. You were sure that as you came towards the four men, you made a terrifying sight- flames running over every exposed inch of skin and eyes glowing deep red.

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