none of this is fine

“I can get a bit insecure about my health condition. In the beginning I was worried that I wouldn’t be able to give her everything she needs. Because I can’t lift her. I can’t run after her. It takes me longer to do things, so I thought she might get frustrated with me. But none of those worries came true. She’s perfectly fine with our reality. She’s very patient. When we get out of the car, she knows that the wheelchair goes first, then Daddy, then Mommy, then Olga. She’s very happy sitting on my lap. And she loves to lie in bed with us. She even tries to help me. In the house I don’t use my wheelchair because I can walk while holding onto my husband’s shoulders. Olga saw us doing this recently, and she came up behind me and tried to help by pushing my legs.”

(Rio de Janeiro, Brazil)

7

On April 26, 1986, a power surge caused an explosion at the Chernobyl Nuclear Power Plant near Pripyat, Ukraine. A large quantity of radioactive material was released.

On May 2, 1986, the Soviet government established a “Zone of Alienation” or “Exclusion Zone” around Chernobyl – a thousand square miles of “radioactive wasteland.” All humans were evacuated. The town of Pripyat was completely abandoned.

But the animals didn’t leave. And a new study, published this month in Current Biology, suggests they are doing fine. “None of our three hypotheses postulating radiation damage to large mammal populations at Chernobyl were supported by the empirical evidence,” says Jim Beasley, one of the researchers.

In fact, some of the populations have grown. These photos (mostly taken by Valeriy Yurko) come from the Belarusian side of the Exclusion Zone, and area called the Polessye State Radioecological Reserve. Kingfisher, elk, boar, baby spotted eagles, wild ponies, moose, rabbits, and wolves all make their home in the park. In some ways, human presence is worse for wildlife than a nuclear disaster.


Image credits:

  • 1986 Chernobyl - ZUFAROV/AFP/Getty Images
  • Wildlife photos - Valeriy Yurko/Polessye State Radioecological Reserve
  • Ponies in winter - SERGEI SUPINSKY/AFP/Getty Images
female writers + beautiful quotes (based on their actual sign)

*IN HONOR OF INTERNATIONAL WOMEN’S DAY*

ARIES: Maya Angelou (Pisces Mercury in the 8th House)

“You may shoot me with your words, you may cut me with your eyes, you may kill me with your hatefulness, but still, like air, I’ll rise!”

TAURUS: Charlotte Brontë (Aries Mercury in the 8th House)

“I do not think, sir, you have any right to command me, merely because you are older than I, or because you have seen more of the world than I have; your claim to superiority depends on the use you have made of your time and experience.”

GEMINI: Gwendolyn Brooks (Taurus Mercury in the 9th House)

“It is lonesome, yes. For we are the last of the loud. Nevertheless, live. Conduct your blooming in the noise and whip of the whirlwind.”

CANCER: Anna Akhmatova (Gemini Mercury)

“The whole time I was hoping my silence would fit yours and exclamation marks would gently float across time and space so that boundaries would be crossed; the whole time I was praying you would read my eyes and understand what I was never able to understand. See, we were never about butterflies. We’ve always been about burning stars. All about us is unearthly and radiant.”

LEO: J.K. Rowling (Virgo Mercury in the 7th House)

“The mind is not a book, to be opened at will and examined at leisure. Thoughts are not etched on the inside of skulls, to be perused by an invader. The mind is a complex and many-layered thing.”

VIRGO: Dorothy Parker (Leo Mercury in the 4th House)

“If I didn’t care for fun and such, I’d probably amount to much. But I shall stay the way I am, because I do not give a damn.”

LIBRA: Marina Tsvetaeva (Libra Mercury)

“I want to sleep with you, fall asleep and sleep. That magnificent folk word, how deep, how true, how unequivocal, how exactly what it says. Just – sleep. And nothing more. No, another thing: and know right into the deepest sleep that it is you. And more: how your heart sounds. And – kiss your heart.”

SCORPIO: Anne Sexton (Libra Mercury)

“Give me your skin as sheer as a cobweb. Let me open it up and listen in and scoop out the dark.”

SAGITTARIUS: Jane Austen (Sagittarius Mercury in the 3rd House)

“I hate to hear you talk about all women as if they were fine ladies instead of rational creatures. None of us want to be in calm waters all our lives.”

CAPRICORN: Simone de Beauvoir (Capricorn Mercury in the 2nd House)

“I am awfully greedy; I want everything from life. I want to be a woman and to be a man, to have many friends and to have loneliness, to work much and write good books, to travel and enjoy myself, to be selfish and to be unselfish… You see, it is difficult to get all which I want. And then when I do not succeed I get mad with anger.”

AQUARIUS: Virginia Woolf (Aquarius Mercury in the 10th House)

“Better was it to go unknown and leave behind you an arch, then to burn like a meteor and leave no dust.” 

PISCES: Elizabeth Barrett Browning (Pisces Mercury in the 6th House)

“What we call Life is a condition of the soul. And the soul must improve in happiness and wisdom, except by its own fault. These tears in our eyes, these faintings of the flesh, will not hinder such improvement.”

Someone’s YA Dystopian Future novel is going to feature one character being a natural leader and then revealing:

“I was at the Fyre Festival in 2017.”

The whole camp went quiet, with the exception of Daran, who swore softly. Chelsea looked like she was about to cry; Pete laughed softly with disbelief. “You were at the Fyre Festival?”

Craig nodded slowly, his gaze not leaving the flames in front of him. “One of the first ones in. One of the last ones out.”

Susan furrowed her brow, trying to piece the words together. Would it be inappropriate to ask him? Was it a religious thing? A massacre?

“What’s a Fire Festival?” The question slipped from her lips before she could help it, and suddenly all eyes were on her–all except Craig’s. The fire still flickered inside them.

“There was just one. The Fyre Festival, with a ‘y’. They thought it was clever.” He sighed, stroked his beard, and shifted a little before continuing. “It was supposed to be a simple weekend in the Bahamas. Me and a bunch of other rich kids packed our clothes, gathered our things, and took a plane down south. Everything was going smoothly…but when we hit the first landing strip, that’s when we started to realize that something had gone awry. Instead of seeing a private beach in front of us, we saw a crowded tourist trap. We were promised private jets, fancy boats, the full VIP experience…” His eyes flicked up to her, and though his mouth curved up in a smile, the eyes did not share in it. “But none of that was anywhere to be seen. We thought it would be fine, all we had to do was get our things, make sure they were together, and they’d lead us to the hotel, but…it was already growing dark, and that’s when the luggage arrived. Unloaded from one of those giant storage containers, the big ones, like you see on the docks. Just tossed out to the crowd, one after another. No conveyer belts, no lockers, no express deliveries to the rooms…and it was when I finally got my bag, with a dented crease along the side, like it had been resting under someone’s golf clubs, that I realized: everything had gone wrong.

“Anyway, I’m standing there with this bag, and it occurs to me how hungry I am, so I start looking for the restaurant. I was young, and foolish…fortunately, Gabe was young and foolish, too, so we both headed off to find the restaurant, thinking it would be there.”

His smile widened, showing those teeth again. “There was no restaurant. They fed us sandwiches–small, flat, flimsy sandwiches, with that bread you see on a gas station shelf, and some meat they said was ham. A single wilted piece of lettuce and a piece of rubbery cheese were the condiments, if you could call them that…Gabe said he saw someone with a ketchup packet. I didn’t believe him. Served in a white styrofoam box.

“Anyway, this would be regal fare to us today, but back then, to us, it might as well have been cow dung. I saw three people vomiting their food right back out; the girl next to me saw the same thing, and she became number four. I don’t know how many of us managed to actually choke our way through the meal, or how many of us actually made it back to go onto the plane, but I do know this: there were two thousand of us left in that village when the last boat left the island. Two thousand of us left to fend for ourselves. 

“When the sun rose the next day, we were one thousand nine hundred and ninety four. Four of us were missing; two were dead. It was then that I realized that this was going to be a live-or-die situation. I chose to live.”


I would continue with this but it is late and I needed sleep an hour ago.

Because some asked why I needed Truthwitch to break out...

Some people have asked me what I meant by a statement in my postmortem – about WHY I needed Truthwitch to break out (because if it didn’t, my career was over). I’m not sure how in-depth I’ve been in my newsletter, so here’s an answer for you:

Basically, my first series tanked. I mean…tanked. We’re talking, Truthwitch sold more copies in its first two weeks than the entire SS&D series COMBINED.

Bad sales hurt an author – you’re way better off as an untested debut than an author with shitty sales. So I was at a crossroads in my career, where the plan was to change my name. That way, I could be a “debut” again. (Sadly, this happens a LOT in the industry. Which is why please do not pirate our books!)

But then Tor decided to take a chance on me. Because they’re a small (and amazing) house, they have more room to take on projects that they’re passionate about (instead of just commercially successful). HOWEVER, if Truthwitch didn’t sell well…. Then yeah. That was it. “Susan Dennard” would be dead, and I’d have to reinvent/start over my career.

There’s no shame in that. I was totally willing to reinvent! The problem was that I had this great audience for my writing advice – thousands upon thousands of people who were coming back for my blog and newsletter. Yet none of them were buying my books. Which is fine – I don’t give free writing help to sell copies. I do it because I love doing it.

BUT…if I reinvented myself, I would lose what little crossover I had between writing-advice-fans and book-readers – not to mention the handful of amazing fans who did like the SS&D trilogy (I will never ever forget my wonderful Misfits!).

So…I needed + desperately wanted Truthwitch to sell well. I wanted Tor to be happy. I wanted to keep my name. That led to me going “all in” on self-promo.

Full disclosure: I allocated $15,000 of my advance to promote Truthwitch. (Which, in case you’re wondering, was most of the advance.) I ended up going over that amount…by a lot. Costs ranged from travel to important events (this was really where the bulk got eaten up!) to running/maintaining my street team (swag, postage, hiring an assistant to help me keep it going) to learning how to + making my own book trailer.***

And like…I honestly don’t even know what kind of TIME I spent promoting. It was a lot more than I thought it would be. Literally most of 2015.

But…it paid off, right? At least in terms of “success.” I’m a New York Times Bestseller now!!

That said, I haven’t earned back the money I spent yet (“bestseller” doesn’t automatically mean “rich”), and I will never get back the time I spent. Plus, the nightmare that was 2016 as I tried to rush-create Windwitch

It begs the question: were the costs worth the rewards? I don’t know. I think so since, hopefully, the rewards will continue to pay forward for a long time – and my career is definitely growing!

Best of all, though, I CAN KEEP MY NAME. Susan Dennard. C’est moi pour toujours. ❤️

Edit:

I want to add two more things – because this post has opened up a lot of conversations I wasn’t expecting to have (but welcome!!).

First: I cannot emphasize enough just how important LUCK is in this equation. On top of the time, money, publisher-partnership, and salty desperation that I poured into Truthwitch, I ALSO GOT LUCKY. I had the Right Book at the Right Moment with the Right Cover in the Right Genre coming out in the Right Month.

A publisher can pour all the money in the world into a book, but nothing will make readers buy it. There is no predicting trends.

So a lot of the success of Truthwitch (which is still pretty small, relatively speaking. I’m not a Big Author by any means!!) boils down to that intangible, finicky sprite known as Lady Luck.

Second: This is just ROUND ONE of “reinvention.” I have no illusions or expectations that my success will remain. The Witchlands series has already exceeded my wildest hopes, but no author stays “on top” forever. It’s a constant up and down, and frankly, we’re all just really lucky to even be able to share our words in the first place.

Sure, I’d love to be successful forever, but it’s not my primary dream – and definitely not my expectation. Realism is key to longevity in this industry, and more than that: gratitude.

So on that note: thanks for reading, thanks for sharing, and thanks for being the reason I keep writing.


***Note: I need to also mention that, once it was clear my own self-promotion was starting to pick up momentum, Tor really stepped in and helped me. This was not a solo journey, and it NEVER is. I had/have an amazing team, and we’ve forged a real partnership while getting the Witchlands into readers’ hands.

9

everyone in harry potter is a poc: beauxbaton girls

Harry noticed a dozen girls- all, by the look of them, in their late teens- had emerged from the carriage and were now standing behind Madame Maxine. They were shivering, which was unsurprising, given that their robes seemed to be made of fine silk, and none of them were wearing clocks. A few of them had wrapped scarves and shawls around their heads. (based on this post)

Look what I’m working on…

Serendipitous Fate 

Chapter 23 - Unofficial Preview (spoilers)

The most rational thing that Marinette could figure was that she was dreaming. Or maybe even in the midst of a nightmare. Yes, a nightmare. That was the only conclusion that made sense.

Yet, it was the little things that contradicted what she would like to think was certainty. The cool feeling of the porcelain toilet lid seeping through her shorts and searing her skin like a burn. The familiar grain of the hardwood floor beneath her feet. The soft murmur of voices in the other room. But what was most jarring was the too-close sound of scissors shearing through hair. It wasn’t consistent like everything else. It stabbed through her ears like a dull, choppy blade—like being sick with the flu only to be shaken every few seconds.

She wanted it to end, but was afraid that if she said anything, she’d be forced to recognize what was real. So, instead, she stared at the floor as chunks of black hair fell softly down around her feet, the weight gradually lifting from her head with each sharp, grating slice of the scissors.

Her mother’s hands were gentle as they sifted through her hair, evening the strands and snipping at flyaways. Until, finally, the shearing stopped.

Finally, Marinette could close her eyes and convince herself that none of it was real.           

That everything was fine.

“How does it look?” Her mother’s voice, though even and calm, was nearly as jarring as the scissors had been. Marinette snapped her eyes open to see that a hand mirror was being held out in front of her.

Out of expected habit—because her body knew motions well enough to substitute for her lagging brain—she reached up and took the mirror, before holding it up so she could see the reflection of the back of her head in the large bathroom vanity.

“It looks fine,” she replied, voice rough from misuse. No more pigtails. Though her heavy bangs remained, the back and sides of her hair had been trimmed within millimeters of her head, so as to even out where Queen Bee as cut away the strands during their battle.

Queen Bee… The battle…

Marinette didn’t want to think about it.

She wasn’t too torn up over the loss of her hair—she’d had short hair before. Not this short, but it’d grow back. There were worse things, after all.

“Marinette,” her mother said softly, touching her shoulder. She sat down on the edge of the tub a moment later, so they were facing one another. “Are you alright?”

She didn’t want to talk about it. She didn’t want to think about it.

Changing the subject to anything else was better.

“You were Ladybug before I was, right?” she asked, despite already knowing the answer

Sabine’s hold tensed on her shoulder, before her hand fell away. Much like her gaze did, becoming distant as she peered to the side.

“I was. But that… was a long time ago.”

“You’ve known I was Ladybug this whole time,” she determined.

“I realized it shortly after your first encounter with Hawkmoth, yes. I’d know those earrings anywhere. And the ring too.” She took a deep breath. “I knew Adrien was Chat Noir the first time I met him.”

Which was before Marinette had known.

“The miraculouses extend their users lifespans,” Marinette went on. “How old are you?”

“Much older than I look,” Sabine replied, finally looking back at her daughter and able to wear a small smile. Yet, Marinette said nothing, and so Sabine gave in. “I turned 97 this year, one year younger than Gabriel. I was Ladybug for most of my life.”

“Is that how you and Mr. Agreste know one another?”

“Yes. Gabriel is… a very old friend. We fought together during World War II, myself, him, and… And we stayed together for many years after, the three of us. Then the four of us.” Reaching up, she touched her forehead, looking wearied. “Thinking so far back really makes me feel my age.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” Reaching out, Sabine patted her knee. “I’m not nearly as old as some.”

Distance

He’d only been gone for three days, but Ignis’ heart ached.

He and the others had made it to Altissia in one piece, docking their boat and taking in the wonders of the capital of Accordo. Ignis supposed he should have been excited, should have taken the opportunity to really make the most of his time in a foreign land––but he couldn’t keep his mind off Raine, his new wife, the soulmate he’d left behind.

Sometimes, if he closed his eyes, he swore that he could feel the tingle of her touch on his forearm, or her breath against the nape of his neck. He imagined her face in his mind’s eye, the smile that she reserved for him and him alone, and wondered if she was alright back in Lucis.

“She’s fine,” Gladio’s voice snapped him out of his reverie. Ignis had been standing alone near the shore, taking a selfish moment to gaze out at the horizon, wondering if maybe Raine was doing the same.

Ignis turned briefly to his friend, offering the tiniest of smiles before directing his attention back out at the water. “I know,” he said finally. “I just…I miss my wife.”

Wife. The word alone felt so new, but so good to say.

“I know,” Gladio chuckled, clapping a hand onto Ignis’ shoulder. “Don’t worry, Romeo. I’m sure she’s fine. Now, come on, we have to join Noct and Prompto. Looks like someone else needs our help.”

Ignis sighed. “Alright. Just allow me a moment? I shan’t keep you waiting long.”

Gladio gave a nod, leaving so that he could have his privacy. 

Ignis pushed his glasses further up his nose and turned back to the sea, the waves lapping at the rocky shore, and closed his eyes. When they slid shut, his heart nearly stopped.

He could see her.

Raine was still in Cape Caem. She sat at the edge of the dock, where their boat had carried him away from her. The dark, battered cardigan that she loved so much was wrapped around her body, and her bare feet dangled down into the water. Her eyes were slightly red, as if she’d spent a good deal of time wiping away her own tears. Ignis felt a jolt of guilt run through his being, cursing himself for being away from her and for causing her so much pain.

He wanted nothing more than to reach out and touch her. It felt like she was so close, but still, just out of reach. Raine must have felt it too, because she brought her cardigan around her body a little tighter, a shaky exhale escaping her lips as she kicked her legs back and forth, tiny waves rippling around her.

She was so beautiful. 

Raine tilted her chin up towards the sky, her eyes slowly closing as the breeze blew through her cropped blue hair. The smell of sea salt invaded her lungs, and Ignis breathed in that same scent, swearing that he could feel the current of the ocean against his skin.

Then he heard something.

It was a lullaby.

His lullaby.

The one his mother used to sing to him when he was a child having a nightmare, the one he’d hummed to Raine to pull her out of her nightmare, the one he’d lulled her to sleep with the night before their wedding. He heard it, clear as day. 

It was Raine.

He could see her, seated at the edge of the dock, swaying along with the ocean waves, humming their lullaby as the wind blew her hair around her shoulders. The wind and the current carried her voice to him, and he couldn’t keep the smile from his face as he saw an identical one spreading across hers.

Her eyes were still closed, but he could see her lips moving. Her voice wafted into his ears a second later, and he knew that she could see him too.

“I love you, Ignis.”

She lifted her palm to her lips, and blew a kiss to the breeze. A gust of wind picked up and blew through his hair, ruffling his collar. Ignis couldn’t help but smile, bringing his gloved fingers to brush along his cheek. He allowed himself one final moment of pause, taking in every detail before he had to open his eyes and rejoin the others once more. He felt a single tear leak out from the corner of his eye, and he saw Raine hastily make to wipe her cheek, though she seemed puzzled when her fingers came back dry.

Ignis let out a small laugh, and it made her smile. He wanted nothing more than to hold her, to kiss her, to open his eyes and have her next to him. But it was enough to be able to see her, if only for a moment, even if it was just in his mind. He whispered a promise to the breeze, hoping the current would carry the message back to her.

“I love you too, my darling Raincloud.”

dopejellyfishstudentthings  asked:

Since the Eldest Curses is an adult series I doubt that my parents would get the books for me anytime soon !so I was wondering if my lack of knowledge (about the trilogy ) would mean that I wouldn't exactly understand the happenings of TDA,TLH and TWP. Will I miss out on alot ? Thxx

No. We're very aware that some teens won’t be able to read an “adult” series (though it’s no racier than plenty of adult books that cross over to young adult audiences, the characters do have sex.) Therefore anything in it that’s immensely significant to the overall plot of the Shadowhunter books will simply be mentioned in TDA or TWP. It’s not as if Magnus and Alec aren’t also in those.

Mostly TEC is about spending more time with Magnus and Alec, deepening our knowledge of them as characters, and enjoying adventures with them. Remember that both the first and second books of TEC take place before the beginning of TDA and you will already have read 2/3 of TDA when you read them. If you have understood TDA so far, is it likely you’ll stop understanding it because TEC got published? 

You can read TID without TMI, TDA without TID. All the Chronicles interlock but none render other series incomprehensible. People read TDA without TMI and understand it fine. I do think reading them all deepens understanding and enjoyment but it isn’t required.

(I hope your parents don’t keep you away from everything in the “adult” section since that’s just the “fiction” section. Jane Eyre, Lord of the Rings, Catch-22 – half my favorite books when I was a teen were technically “adult”!)

Shared Pain || Bucky Barnes x Reader [[soulmate au]]

[prompt: soulmate au where you and your soulmate share each other’s pain]

i’ve found a loophole with my laptop and am able to type my stories in my email drafts ;w; it’s a pain to do it, but….it makes it hella easier for me to write without wearing out my thumbs and making typos.

there’s going to be two versions of this story/prompt with two different characters. the first one (this one) will be a bucky barnes x reader while the second one will be a peter parker x reader.

consider this a late birthday fic for bucky barnes as I try to get used to writing for him ;w;

that being said, lets delve into this first story shall we?

warnings: none

permanent tags: @psychicwitchphilosopher

**don’t repost/plagiarize this story. reblogs are fine**

——

You didn’t think you had a soulmate because you seldom felt any pain that didn’t originate from your own personal mishaps. If you did have a soulmate, then perhaps he was someone who wasn’t clumsy and had a high tolerance for pain.

But you highly doubted the existence of such a perfect being. After all, everyone could feel pain.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Based on what you've come to know as a fan of BTS, if you had to guess - what do you think they each have for possible kinks? 🤔

I read these “kink lists” or MTL <insert kink here> all the time and I almost always think differently from what others put down on their lists.  Which is fine, because none of us have the slightest clue what the boys are really into.  And, to be honest, if I had written my list a month ago, it would probably look different than the one I’ve written below.  I can’t ever make up my mind.

Also, because I can’t ever do things simply or just follow instructions, it’s not really a list of kinks as much as it is ramblings about sex categorized by member.

BTS KINKS ACCORDING TO ME!

Originally posted by go2bedjungkook

Jin: Total slut who is down for most anything as long as he gets laid in the process.  Tie him up? Sure! Tie you up? Okay! Sex in an alley? Bring it on! Threeways, orgies, or totally generic missionary style? Yes, please!  Not into hardcore BDSM.  Would rather not have anything stuck in his butt, but could be convinced if horny enough.  Not a dom, not a sub – just wants to put his penis in your vagina and willing to do what it takes to make that happen.  Body types don’t generally matter to him. Fat, skinny, tall, short, whatever – he will want to fuck you… but I do think he’s got a special thing for chubby chicks.

Originally posted by jungsooneul

Yoongi:  My absolute bias, therefore I believe he’s mostly into the same things I’m into.  Don’t fight me on this – it’s my list and I get to choose my delusions.  Long, slow build up into sex.  Lots of teasing, nipple sucking, shallow fucking – won’t start pounding you hard until you are absolutely begging him for it.  Everything is a competition in his head, so he needs to make you cum first in order to “win” at sex.  Not a big moaner.  Loves to dirty talk – like really, super obscene, sometimes bordering on demeaning but never goes too far.  Wakes up in the middle of the night and wants sex.  Likes morning sex too. Prefers sex in a bed because he likes to be comfortable. Sadly, he’s not into public sex, but will totally finger bang you at the bar when he’s drunk.

Originally posted by ultranicolet

Hoseok: Likes to keep things private.  Prefers monogamous relationships where you build trust over time. Pretty standard sex life at first but once he trusts you, he starts pushing the boundaries and letting you in on what he really likes.  Into sensory deprivation – blindfolds and earplugs, so he can’t see or hear you coming. Not a traditional sub – he’s not into being obedient to you or anyone, but he does like it when you take the lead sexually.  Wants to get pegged by you, especially if he’s getting a hand job at the same time. Actually, really enjoys hand jobs in general.  Likes occasional orgasm denial or ruined orgasms because it makes him cum harder when he gets to orgasm for real the next time.

Originally posted by bangtangirl-cutennes-v

Namjoon:  His intellectual curiosity transfers over to his sex life as well.  Has read a ton of books and magazine articles on sex. Watches a shit-load of porn.  Extremely open minded.  Wants to try everything at least once.  Always checking in on you during sex to make sure you’re still into whatever is going on. Asks for a lot of feedback – wants to know if you prefer he go fast or slow, long strokes or short, up or down… he’s like a sexual investigator.  Is an awkward dom, but working on getting better at it.  Willing sub, but can’t do it all the time.  Into MFF threesomes… a lot!  Wants to fuck you in the butt.  Totally turned on by all body types, but is the most easily distracted by big boobs.

Originally posted by jiminios

Jimin:  Slightly dom leaning during sex but not life.  Gets off on being seen as manly, so wants to take the lead on pleasuring you – but not interested in being overly demanding or punitive.  Has an extremely strong desire to be needed by you.  Wants your praise desperately.  Gets off on hearing you moan and works hard to make that happen. Tiny exhibitionist streak in him and likes it when you feel him up in public, but not into full blown public sex.   Likes to hear you dirty talk to him.  Wants to fuck you in front of a mirror so he can see everything that is going on. Wants you to strip and lap dance for him, eager to do the same in return.  Into sexting and mutual masturbation.

Originally posted by we--are--bulletproof

Taehyung: Most likely to categorize girls into “girls you fuck” and “girls you marry”.  Respectful to both, but can’t quite reconcile that you can be both. He’ll outgrow it eventually.  In the meantime, he’s focused on the “girls you fuck” category.  Fascinated by strong and dominant women, so willing to be a sub in bed to them, but not interested in being a life-style sub.  Thinks he has to try to get all his sexual needs satisfied now before he settles down with the proverbial good girl, so he’s not thinking much about long term relationships at the moment.  Wants variety.  Into one-night-stands and friends-with-benefits situations. Totally up for threesomes, MFF or MMF – he doesn’t care.  Really wants you to sit on his face.

Originally posted by bane-niki

Jungkook: Thinks he needs to change sex positions every few minutes.  Likes to challenge himself (and you) into athletic sexual positions, like standing 69. Wants to work his way through all the positions in the Kamasutra.  Likes sex outdoors, in the woods, on the beach, in the backseat of the car parked along a country road.  Enjoys occasional quickies, but prides himself on endurance sex.  Excellent orgasm control so he can go for a long time. Not happy unless you’ve had multiple orgasms.  Recovers quickly, so able to have sex multiple times a day.  Totally into biting, scratching and hair pulling. Will happily spank you at your request.

friendly competition [sam wilson/bucky barnes]

bucky and sam argue over who’s the better kisser. you’ll be the judge of that.

tagging: @redgillan, @mattymattymerduck, @avengerofyourheart, @wakandasoldier, @darlingbuchanan, @bemystucky, @idorkish, @iwillbeinmynest, @aubzylynn, @angryschnauzer, @almondbuttercup

warnings: light suggestive content

additional notes: i’m back! i’ve had this idea in my head for a little over a week, and i hope yall like it :) thanks for sticking around and i hope to post more fics soon.

They were bickering when you entered the kitchen for lunch that afternoon.

“It’s gotta be me. I’ve had the most practice.”

“When’s the last time you even kissed someone?”

“When’s the last time you did, old man? The thirties?”

You rolled your eyes as you made your way to the fridge, hoping to find sufficient ingredients for a bagel sandwich. Listening to Sam and Bucky argue was the last thing you wanted to do after an hour-long workout, but you couldn’t help but be curious. “Should I even ask what you two are arguing about?” you asked, flashing Sam and Bucky a withering look over your shoulder.

Bucky defended himself immediately. “Sam here thinks he’s the better kisser. I’m trying to tell him why he’s wrong.”

Sam shook his head. “Nuh-uh, there is no way Snowflake here is better than me. He can run, he can lift, he can fight, but I draw the line at kissing. Help me out, Y/N.”

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