tantalise

You may have noticed that the books you really love are bound together by a secret thread. You know very well what is the common quality that makes you love them, though you cannot put it into words: but most of your friends do not see it at all, and often wonder why, liking this, you should also like that. Again, you have stood before some landscape, which seems to embody what you have been looking for all your life; and then turned to the friend at your side who appears to be seeing what you saw - but at the first words a gulf yawns between you, and you realise that this landscape means something totally different to him, that he is pursuing an alien vision and cares nothing for the ineffable suggestion by which you are transported. Even in your hobbies, has there not always been some secret attraction which the others are curiously ignorant of - something, not to be identified with, but always on the verge of breaking through, the smell of cut wood in the workshop or the clapclap of water against the boat’s side? Are not all lifelong friendships born at the moment when at last you meet another human being who has some inkling (but faint and uncertain even in the best) of that something which you were born desiring, and which, beneath the flux of other desires and in all the momentary silences between the louder passions, night and day, year by year, from childhood to old age, you are looking for, watching for, listening for? You have never had it. All the things that have ever deeply possessed your soul have been but hints of it - tantalising glimpses, promises never quite fulfilled, echoes that died away just as they caught your ear. But if it should really become manifest - if there ever came an echo that did not die away but swelled into the sound itself you would know it. Beyond all possibility of doubt you would say “Here at last is the thing I was made for.” We cannot tell each other about it. It is the secret signature of each soul, the incommunicable and unappeasable want, the thing we desired before we met our wives or made our friends or chose our work, and which we shall still desire on our deathbeds, when the mind no longer knows wife or friend or work. While we are, this is. If we lose this, we lose all.
—  C.S. Lewis, The Problem of Pain

anonymous asked:

So like it's pretty cool how humans figured out how to bake. Like we made edible chemistry, we like mixed all of theese reactions together to make a delicious cake. Imagine an alien seeing this for the first time.

Oh my goodness!! My first prompt! Thank you!

Hruk’ib didn’t understand why everyone was so concerned about the humans. For the most part, they were polite and friendly, they followed the orders of their superiors, and they didn’t hesitate when it came to tossing protocol out the airlock in dire times. Hruk’ib respected them and had known from Day One that these members of their crew were not just allies but assets.

So it was that when Hruk’ib smelled strange smells coming from the food preparation bay, he wasn’t too upset; a couple of the humans - Konani and Frederik - loved to work with food and did so regularly. Still, curiosity drove him to enter the bay, and it was when he entered, the doors’ hydraulics hissing open and then closed, that he sensed the excess heat.

FIRE!

He froze where he stood, every instinct of his species urging him to flee yet conflicting with the ingrained training of the fleet to make sure his crewmates were safe and away and not near fire! He couldn’t see it, there was no smoke, but he felt it – hot enough to reduce flesh to nothing more than charred ashes.

“Oh, hey, Hruk’ib!”

Hruk’ib’s head snapped around to find the two humans hovering around one of the many stovetops. In his peripherals, however (and it was a miracle in the first place that he noticed at all), he spotted the most unholy mess: white dust coating a prep table, glob-like splatters of what looked like sticky excrement in bowls and dripping onto the tabletop, and at least four or five of what looked like some kind of metal mesh trays on various nearby counters. The trays bore small, round objects that appeared solid and gave off a most enticing scent.

Then his eyes drifted back to the humans who stood uncertainly. Konani had heavy, cloth gloves on her hands and held a long, thin tray. Her brown eyes flicked from him to Frederik beside her and back again. “Um, this batch has to cool but if you want a cookie, there are some fresh ones, uh, everywhere.” She gestured with her elbow to the counters.

The humans were calm. Why were they calm in the face of fire? They weren’t that stupid. They were determinedly foolhardy at times, especially when ethanol was involved, but even humans got worried when fire threatened.

Hruk’ib forced himself to take a deep breath. The heat rushed down his throat and into his lungs – no ash, no smoke, just heat. It was a different heat, similar to when they passed too close to a star and the very ship felt like an… an oven.

The oven was not designed to give off this much heat!

“What is it that you are doing?” he asked, trying to calm down.

Konani busied herself with the…cookies, leaving Frederik to explain. “Ve are baking,” he said. “Ve asked Yensen to tveak ze oven settings because zey vere too low for baking cookies.”

“We asked permission first,” Konani added. “Captain K’alo said we could but only if we did it to one. We made a notice and everything so other crew won’t accidentally set fire to their food.”

Frederik stepped out of the way and Hruk’ib spotted the massive note tacked to the wall above the stove in question. The bright red sign was impossible to miss and the white letters were clear in both Earth’s English, as well as Hruk’ib’s native language of Jubri.

Hruk’ib nodded his head in the humans’ agreement signal. “Very well. I was afraid you had set the room on fire. We usually do not encounter this kind of heat outside of the engine cores,” he explained.

“Ah,” said Konani. “That makes sense.”

“Ve apologise for startling you, Hruk’ib,” Frederik added, pressing his palms together.

Hruk’ib smiled at the human displaying the sign for formal apology among his species. He lifted his left hand, palm turning inward and then upward to accept it, and Frederik smiled in turn.

With her hands still full, Konani simply inclined her head to him, also apologising.

“What is baking?” Hruk’ib asked.

“In a word, chemistry.” Shedding the gloves, Konani faced him fully, leaning against the counter. “It’s different from cooking because the ingredients in baking react to the heat and, if you get the recipe right, work together to create something else. It’s not like we’re roasting meat where we have to cook it to eat it safely. You can eat an unbaked cookie without much threat.”

“Alzough, zere are many people who zink you can get salmonella - zat is food poisoning - from eating ze dough because of ze raw eggs,” Frederik put in.

“Oh,” said Hruk’ib. “Then, you are conducting a chemical experiment.”

“In essence, yes. Want one?” Konani held a mesh tray out to him.

Now Hruk’ib drifted forward, purposefully ignoring the mess, and bee-lined for the tantalising aroma wafting from these strange, dark-brown discs.

“They’re a friend’s recipe,” Konani explained. “She made sure I had enough cocoa powder to last me ten solar cycles, though I’m not sure I’ll use it all.”

Hruk’ib chuckled, sensing the humour, and picked up a cookie. It was still warm between his appendages. It was solid yet somehow soft, almost moist… He flicked his tongue out, sampling, and was rewarded with a burst of flavour. He took a bite. Barely hard on the outside, it was luxuriously soft on the inside. He had never eaten one of these things in his entire life and yet something about eating it and the smell of it reminded him of home, of blankets and coziness and something that was better than camaraderie: family.

Science. This rapturous product was one of science. May the humans and their ingenuity never die out.

Hruk’ib licked his fingers before turning to the two humans who watched him with mixed expressions of humour and curiosity. “May I have another, please?” he asked.

Konani grinned while Frederik laughed.

“Of course!” she answered while Frederik continued to chortle. “But it is a universally acknowledged truth that a glass of cold milk always accompanies the eating of cookies.”

Hruk’ib took the glass Frederik gave him, interchangeably eating and drinking. Milk and cookies, together: a universally acknowledged truth, indeed.

Venus aspects
  • Venus-Sun: Sonar love radiates through every auric field
  • Venus-Moon: Seeks motherly love in lovers
  • Venus-Mercury: Tantalised by the mind
  • Venus-Mars: Sensual and physical in displays of affection
  • Venus-Jupiter: Big heart, loves everybody
  • Venus-Saturn: Seeks father figures in lovers
  • Venus-Uranus: Enjoys long distance or frequent isolations
  • Venus-Neptune: Lovers are saviours or destroyers
  • Venus-Pluto: Mirrors the demons of lovers, can be on the receiving side of projective aggression
The Wedding Night

Ok so @omgkatsudonplease was streaming Pride and Prejudice tonight and lots of Rivals jokes were made as we have established that umfb&mha is actually an accidental Pride and Prejudice AU. And then suddenly we found out that apparently there is an extra scene in the American version that I had never seen before and let me tell you, that Fucked Me Up because I love that film and this new scene kills me. 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Zg7YhN-I2M0

So what did I do with this new, groundbreaking information? Wrote a Rivals version of this scene of course.

So without further ado may I present to you The Wedding Night scene, otherwise known as my 1am fic rambling and a snippet of what Rivals - Past, Present and Future might be like 



                                       The Wedding Night 


Walking slowly into the room, Viktor finished pulling his shirt off over his head and looked to see where Yuuri was stretched out on the bed before him. Unlike Viktor, Yuuri was still wearing the formal white shirt of the day’s celebrations but his trousers were gone and the shirt was half unbuttoned, giving Viktor a tantalising glimpse of sharp collarbones and smooth, perfect skin. At the sound of his approach, Yuuri turned to face him, eyes softening and face breaking out into a smile as he looked at his once fiancé and now husband.

“Come here,” he murmured and Viktor obeyed, climbing onto the bed to where Yuuri was lying with a slight smirk on his face and arms open invitingly.

“Of course solnyshko,” Viktor breathed, planting a light kiss on Yuuri’s forehead and then laughing a little when Yuuri made a soft noise of protest before reaching down to capture his lips in a much deeper kiss. After a few seconds he pulled away and Yuuri smiled up at him, eyes bright in the darkness of the room.

“You always call me solnyshko,” he teased, running one hand down Viktor’s side and sliding the other up to tangle lightly in his hair. “People might think you’re getting…predictable.”

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Happy Free Comic Book Day, Whovians! This special edition also marks the first @titancomics appearance of new companion Bill Potts.

Take a spin through the past, present, and future of Doctor Who universe, in the company of the twelfth Doctor and his brand-new companion, Bill! Featuring Bill’s first Titan Comics appearance, this all-new story is an unmissable experience for fans new and old, with plenty of tantalising teases from Doctors past and present, including incredible clues to the year ahead for all of Titan’s Doctor Who series! Keep your Sonic Screwdriver at the ready and unlock a world of adrenaline-fuelled time traveling adventure!

You can find your local participating store here

Audition

A NIGHT AT HOME | TAEHYUNG VERSION

WORD COUNT: 3,112

warnings: graphic smut, dirty talk, spanking, slight exhibitionism, squirting

Originally posted by jitonic

masterlist | ask | song 


“Y/N? Are you listening to anything I’m saying?” Taehyung uttered under his breath, dumbfounded that you were daydreaming once again, a reoccurring phenomenon apparently.

“Mm?” You looked up from your plate, eyes immediately locking with his brown feline-like orbs. The contours of his face seemed sharper than usual, which saying something as your boyfriend had a jawline sharp enough to kill a man; he probably thought you were ignoring him.

The two of you were sat comfortably at the dining table, having just eaten dinner. You met Taehyung by accident three years ago in a movie theatre, he saw your sky blue jumper and assumed you worked there, giving that it was a similar colour to the uniform employees wore. As soon as you turned to face him he became overwhelmed by your beauty, and by his impending embarrassment. He apologised profusely and bought your ticket, writing his number on the back of the small piece of paper.

Calling him that night was the best decision you ever made.

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Metempsychosis, 1.

Pairing: Park Jimin / Reader

Genre: Immortal!AU, Reincarnation!AU + Slight Soulmate!AU / Fluff, Angst + Smut

Rating: NC-17

Warnings: None

Summary: Being everlasting certainly has its perks, but loving someone who does not have that privilege and reborn continually is not one of them.

Count: 2838 words.

Note: Thank you, @dimplecoups, for being in my inner circle and reading it over. This will be a three part series, and is told in Jimin’s POV.

Metempsychosis

And yet by death did life procure.

Various of theories are justificatory weaved in regards to our existence—that we either originated from a spiritual entity or created by a grand phenomenon. In the circumstance of a unique individual, he was produced by both; stars run in his veins for he is the embodiment of the galaxies, ethereal in every way. An enigma, some would say, yet was he truly a complex being? For the span of four hundred years, he had witnessed all that history could offer, but there was an uncomplicated reason for his melancholy: where was his moon? Where was his sun and stars, the one who was his celestial beloved? Surely, he was not meant to roam alone.

Or was he?

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the skulduggery pleasant books rated by mentions of dogs
  • scepter of the ancients: features dogs running freely in haggard with their tails wagging, a slobbery dog in a towtruck, and several other references to dogs. a solid dependable book. (8/10).
  • playing with fire: melissa mentions one of the edgley's owns owns three small dogs, says she prefers big dogs. valkyrie asks her if they're getting a dog. a tantalising conversation, but could be improved with more dogs. (6/10)
  • faceless ones: while there are two similes referencing dogs, this book contains no actual dogs. very disappointing. (2/10)
  • dark days: valkyrie asks her parents if they can get a dog. however, she also insults hannah foley's chinese crested dog. not cool. (4/10)
  • mortal coil: valkyrie see's a dog being taken for a walk at st anne's park. she also gives skulduggery a mug with a picture of her neighbour's one-eyed dog betty on it. this is pivotal to the ongoing development of both their character arcs. (9/10)
  • deathbringer: kenny goes to the park where he see's several small dogs playing in the sunshine. A few other references to dogs are made throughout the book. (7/10)
  • kingdom of the wicked: we learn of the existence of an alternate dimension where mevolent and his army kill dogs.this is awful, just awful (-10/10)
  • last stand of dead men: contains one real dog and one fake dog-like-alien, i would have prefered two dogs (5/10)
  • dying of the light: valkyrie finally gets the dog she's always wanted. xena is amazing, a very good dog. couldn't be happier for my girl. (11/10)
Champ de Fleurs Jaunes.

Pairing: Kim Taehyung / Reader

Genre: Artist!AU + Fluff

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: Slight sexual content.

Summary: Falling in love with an artist can certainly make one’s life more colourful.

Count: 736 words.

Note: This drabble was inspired by Taehyung’s recent museum trip because why not. The title translates to Field of Yellow Flowers which is one of Vincent Van Gogh’s pieces.

Champ de Fleurs Jaunes

i.

He had noticed her from afar. She strolled from painting to painting, each illustration regarded attentively with a warm gaze within the gallery until she ceased her pace and admired one in particular. It portrayed a meadow—vivid hues of yellow blossoms, streaks of grey as the contrasting overcast; yet, sun rays illuminated through fractures of the clouds, creating a natural spotlight.

“Solitude,” A voice had said behind her, velvety deep before it paused as the gentleman stood next to her, sipping on a glass of champagne. Proudly did he stand, an unused hand tucked into a pocket whilst he began to commend the piece of art. “Simplistic, brilliant. I think the artist is trying to display hope and enlightenment, wouldn’t you agree?” He turned towards the woman, who studied his presence as though he was, indeed, artwork and shrugged.

The flute of champagne twirled in her grasp, “What makes you believe that?” is inquired past tinted lips and from the corner of her eyes, she made note of the playful smirk in response. He clicked his tongue and took a few steps towards the painting prior to announcing: “I should know. I painted it.”

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Spice it Up! (M)

Jimin & You

Genre: Fluffy Smut, One shot

Word count: 4,110 words

~•~•~•~

The images projected by the TV were a blur and you blinked several times, realising that you had let yourself get lost in your thoughts. Shifting your head ever so slightly to the left, you sneaked a glance at your husband, whose eyes were trained on the TV, unaware of your lack of attention tonight. You chewed on your lower lip, the plans that you were determined to carry out making you nervous, but you were going to do it no matter what.

“Jimin?”

“Yes, sweetheart?”

The affectionate nickname made you smile and boosted your confidence a little. He loved you just as much as you loved him, if not more. This gave you comfort, knowing that even if he didn’t like what you wanted to try tonight, he would not feel hatred or disgusted towards you. He always made you feel safe and comfortable with voicing your thoughts.

And this was a thought that had been plaguing you for a while. It was a big one, to you at least.

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Good Girl

Requests: “could I request a credence’s smut that he’s confident and he and the reader are at a party and she provokes him and they have sex in somewhere at home? I love your fics

Pairing: Credence Barebone x Reader

Word Count: 2087

Warnings: Smut, alcohol, DIRTY TALK AH

Originally posted by wheretheyrefound


“This party blows.” You droned, leaning your head into Credence’s shoulder.

“Aw c’mon, it’s not that bad.” He smirked.

“It really is. Can we go home soon?”

“No, I told Newt that I’d stick around at least until the toast. You know how much this means to him.”

“Ugh, don’t remind me.” You groaned. “But you have to admit, he has no idea how to throw a fun party.”

“We can make it fun.” He shrugged. You narrowed your eyes at the young man, beginning to nod with him as you simultaneously thought of the same solution.

“Alcohol.”


The room twirled as you sat on a couch with Credence, watching people talk, dance, and enjoy themselves. You turned to him, finding his eyes to be just as glazed as yours with a stuporous look.

“You having fun yet?” Credence asked, poking at your sides. You flinched, giggling as you caught his hands in yours.

“There’s still more fun to be had.” You mumbled, your lopsided smirk growing as you placed a not so subtle hand on Credence’s thigh. He took in a sharp breath, simply watching your fingers slide up at a tantalising pace.

“(Y/n)! Credence!” A voice called. Credence whined as you withdrew your hand instantly. “I’m so glad you two came!” Queenie drunkenly wobbled over, Jacob on her tail.

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Shut Doors (Doctor Strange x Reader) [SMUT]

Title: Shut doors (Doctor Strange x Reader) [SMUT]

Pairing: Doctor Strange x Reader

Characters: Reader and Doctor Strange, the Avengers

Request: Doctor Strange x Reader with 10+17, annnnnnnnnnd smutty-ish, please? If you could write it, I would be appreciate so much. And thank you in advance. Hoping that you would have a nice day! By @septimaseverina (sorry the link didn’t work the first time around, silly me. 

10. “It’s not what it looks like…”

17. “Oh please! It’s not like you’ve never seen something like this before.”

Summary: When a one night stand leads to awkward silences, awkward glances and awkward conversations you feel you’re never going to get your best friend back. But, when a mission threatens your life will everything change?

Word count: 965

Warnings: Mentions of potential death. SMUT, yep, you heard Doctor Strange smut. 

Tags: @tmntwhat-you-get-is-what-you-see @trinswhimsys

Originally posted by cactuseverywhere

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8

stare through the mirror of the self, reflect the face of someone else (the bodyguard au) by bigchickcannibalistic

She’s leaning it. Red lips close – so tantalising close it’s fucking taunting her and it’s fucking unfair. So fucking unfair. Because her heart’s pounding, her hands are already on her hips and her throat is so dry it could be a fucking desert.

And it’s so fucking unfair because this is not how it’s supposed to go, and how can her body just betray her like that, just give in to temptation wrapped in a black dress and with positively thirsty eyes?

So I’ve been sitting on this one for a while but thanks to @marveliskindacool and @imagine-that-marvel I’m feeling a lot better about uploading it. @lost-in-my-arms, sorry - I couldn’t follow the request explicitly but I hope the fic is still enjoyable nonetheless. Be brutal with your feedback - though you should know there is a part 2. Enjoy, my darlings!

Prompt[s]: the reader, who’s a new Avenger, has the same powers (and name, and costume, maybe) as Daredevil, being blind and all, knows when someone is lying; is great fighting (everyone) Pietro, since she can pinpoint where he is even when running. Cracks jokes about being blind all the time. This sort of stuff. Maybe something romantic with Bucky, or Pietro?

‘More Than Meets The Eye’

Pietro sighed. The coffee shop was buzzing. Perhaps in a novella such an atmosphere would incite excitement. However, all Pietro wanted to do was sit, rest his feet, and drink his coffee. You’d have thought it would be simple.

Just as he was beginning to think that he might have to take his drink elsewhere, he spotted an empty seat in the corner of the room, near a partially empty table. In such a crowded room, using his speed never ended well so he fought his way to the table patiently. It wouldn’t have bothered him so much if he wasn’t wary of the fact that there would be other patrons searching for a place to sit and this seemed to be the last available space.

Unfortunately, on account of his hopes being so high, they fell all the harder when a well-built gentleman arrived, seemingly out of nowhere, and fell into the chair. The polished wood groaned under the weight, and Pietro groaned under his breath – or so he had thought. The man turned and met his gaze with ferocity.

“You got a problem?” He asked, pulling out his newspaper and unfolding it to make a point. This guy was not going anywhere. Before Pietro could begin to speak, somebody appeared at his side and placed their hand in the crook of his arm.

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Every Time You Call

*click through to read on ao3!

written by: Mel | @caramelkru

prompt: ‘modern day fic where bellarke decide to send nudes to each other even though they’re just friends? ’ for anonymous

word count: 1406


[10.42pm] bellamy?

[10.45pm] Clarke

[10.45pm] ok good. just making sure u’re holding ur phone

[10.46pm] … What??

[10.47pm] Clarke sent an image

[10.49pm] Uh

[10.49pm] That is

[10.50pm] stop typing n backspacing n typing again u can ditch the awkward idk-whats-goin-on spiel i just needed to vent

[10.51pm] With a picture of your boobs?????

[10.51pm] … Those are YOUR boobs, right?

[10.53pm] yes very much mine

[10.54pm] i’m making up for all the unsolicited dick pics out there in the world

[10.54pm] By sending an unsolicited boob pic?

[10.54pm] boob pics are always solicited

[10.55pm] Fair point

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Standard (M)

» mafia!yoongi/namjoon, 4.3k, mafia yoongi is pissed [] &  sugamon threesome []

warning: smut (threesome, love hate idk, jealousy?, blow job, hand job, does this count as slight torture?, weird shit man)

“A bet between friends. If you win, I’ll leave you alone and you can live in peace, I won’t try to destroy you or take your people, nothing like that. But if I win, you give me everything. Deal?”

Originally posted by bangtannoonas

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Winter Shadow - chapter 2

Work was really slow today so you get two chapters. Hope that’s OK, sorry. 

And all credit to @pixierox101 for the idea, not me xx

They woke at dawn wrapped around each other, bare skin cold in the unheated lodge. No time, or need, for words: they would be expected at the base and lateness would be punished.  They both dressed, strained and tired muscles complaining at the movement but disregarded, pain too familiar a companion to attend to.

He led the way, as always, out onto the hillside, skirting the treeline to stay out of view of early risers, but there was no one around.  They walked for four hours in silence before stopping to drink from a meltwater stream coming down the mountainside. The sun was hot on their backs now, the cool water a blessing as they cupped their hands and poured it over their heads.

They were used to spending time together without talking, their connection not needing words, more primal than language, so she was surprised when he spoke her name as they walked off. He stopped, and waited for her to catch up from her customary position a pace behind.  Walking side-by-side felt unfamiliar but comfortable, as if there was a half-forgotten memory of walking down a woodland path with someone once. She watched him, waiting to see what he needed to say.

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What Are the Roses For?

Pairing: Park Jimin / Reader

Genre: Fluff + Light Smut

Rating: PG-15

Warnings: Sexual content

Summary: We may be miles apart, but our hearts are sempiternally together.

Words: 686

Note: Thank you to @dimplecoups and @sydist for helping me with the last line. This drabble is for @kwritersnet February prompt event - I chose Long Distance. Also, I wrote this while I’m sick so sorry.


What Are the Roses for?

The first time she inquired, “What are the roses for?” is when Jimin mentioned that he would be absent for a year due to a terribly packed schedule. Naturally, she was saddened and as the vase filled with roses was settled on the marble kitchen counter, he gathered her into a regrettable embrace. “I’ll be back soon, Y/N.” was a whispered promise that hinted a bit of hope. Thus, she nodded against his plaid shirt and inhaled quietly, taking in Jimin’s scent—his soul—just in case he would be weaved in forgotten seams. I’ll be waiting.

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