fingers to pocket


I accidentally packed away the elf ears and I forgot which box they were in… BUT !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I AM…. HAPPY….. hello I am anxiety elf sasuke now….
again HUGE THANK YOU TO @shwit for making this amazing cosplay!! Everything is perfect and fits super well ahhhh so pro!! ㅠㅠ

Nothing More [ II ]

Genre [Rating] : Angst

Length: 11.1k

Pairing: Baekhyun x Reader

Summary: Watching the man you love love someone else was the most painful feeling in the world.

Nothing More Masterlist

Originally posted by sefuns

A broken heart was a nuisance, an annoying leech that sucked the life out of you every moment you paused to think about the pain it was spreading through your limbs. Every second you spent with your mind not occupied you wanted to scream and cry. It felt like your emotions were burning embers and anytime you paused to give it oxygen the fire would grow and consume you til you were nothing but ashes.

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Everybody say my name! It’s my birthday!” 🎈🎈🍰🎇

Happy birthday, dear sunshine TEN! Our eternal beautiful smile, sweet lover, innocent baby, you’ve been blessing our eyes and hearts with your hardworking, spectacular performances and even during hard times your smile never faded! You are the best like always! The one who always helps the others before him, the one who always makes you smile, the one who always makes your heart flutter…once again, happy birthday precious baby!♥♥♥♥♥

To Steal A Kiss

Summary: As a mild criminal, you make a bold move to pick-pocket a suspicious looking stranger, but you may have picked the wrong target. (Bucky x reader)

Request/Prompt(s): Can you do this “I kissed you as a distraction while stealing your wallet” with Bucky x reader? Thanks!

Warnings: swearing

Word Count: 1933

A/N: Ok first, I do not condone theft. Second, I’m so glad someone picked this one!!! :D This was such a fun idea!

Originally posted by allthisherostuff

“We’ve been here for over an hour!” you whined, pacing the small empty room, dust particles swirling up into the sunlight with each step. “When do we make the drop?”

“When I’m ready,” your partner hissed, clearly annoyed with your impatience, “We’re the ones with the goods, they’ll wait and right now I’ve got a lurker that’s been hanging around at the corner for too long.”

“Lemme see.” You pushed your way to the window, picking up the heavy binoculars from the floor.

“Big guy. Army green coat, and black hat, northeast corner.”

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No Strings (V)

Author: kpopfanfictrash

Pairing: You / Jimin

Rating: PG-13

Warning: Excessive drinking 

Word Count: 4,040

Summary: It started off as such a simple question. How to know if you’re bad in bed? Of course when you asked, you didn’t imagine Jimin would actually answer.

Originally posted by jiyoongis

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a song of ice and fire [1]

summary: Winter is nearly here. ||  game of thrones au || bucky x reader

warnings: none, unless you count the use of the word whore and bastard offensive, james is very sarcastic and i love it

note:Yes, I know I’m starting ANOTHER series. Sue me. I was excited to write this. Just a little set up for the series, I guess. This is not going to be exactly like Game of Thrones, mind you. This is going to be inspired by it, with my own twist to the story. I hope you all enjoy it! Feedback is always appreciated!

Originally posted by winterwantsplums

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smile with me (you make me begin)

Originally posted by berry852

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook/Reader
Genre: Smut, Comedy, Angst, Fluff
Word Count: 30,587
Warnings: cursing/cussing, sexual content, exhibitionism, orgasm denial, unprotected sex, past bullying, past abusive relationship, mentions of drug usage, mentions of depression, anxiety attacks, self-harm

First, there were hot tongues and meaningless moans, anger and grudges hidden behind sex. Then, there were laughter and inside jokes, fleeting kisses and warm gazes trapped in time.
Jungkook has never known love before, but if he has to define it, he’s sure that love is everything he feels for her.

for the sake of the story, BTS’s ages are ambiguous. however, 95 line are still the same age, and jungkook/reader are the same age as well. jimin and taehyung will be in their third year of college, while jungkook and the reader in their first. hoseok and namjoon are also in their last year.
the reader/female character will always just be referred to as she/her/the girl. any other female character (the reader’s roommate) will be referred to using their name (or in this case, “her roommate”).
P.P.S. if you’ve ever read the overwhelming light surrounding us, see if you can catch my little reference ;)
P.P.P.S. thanks @sydist for reading the whole thing and sorting out the plot with me, @thules for making sure the smut’s okay, and @trbld-writer for encouraging me to write this!

The winter air is colder today; Jungkook shoves his fingers into the pocket of his jeans. He quickly strides forward, breathing ragged as white mist dances before his lips; his camera slams against his chest as he breaks into a run.

He has always enjoyed winter. There’s something about the serenity of the season—a time littered with sprinkles of hope, joy, and laughter—that somehow always manages to warm his heart. His fondest memories are born during this time of year, images of a chocolate fondue, his smiling older brother, and giant Christmas presents tucked neatly into the corner of his mind.

His camera bounces as he halts abruptly, and he pushes through the doors of the coffee shop.

“Jungkookie! You’re back!”

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It’s Fun When They Resist

“Experiment number 36…” He softly mumbled, pressing the end of his pen against his lips in pondering curiosity. The file he held in his hand contained information of his current victim that he had enraptured in chains just a few feet away from him.

“Takashi huh? Quite a common first name….but oh well, I suppose it suits a guy like you~”

His pale, scarred fingers trailed through the pages, and each paragraph made his heart race in excitement. Everything…was just so….scandalous. So very scandalous. Oh how he couldn’t wait to use this. To use all of this. It was just too perfect! It was like the universe is taking his side and giving him all that he wished for and more! Since Takashi’s pockets were emptied earlier, Midoriya took a moment to look upon the items he found laid out before him.

A cellphone

A paper clip

A wallet that was filled with cash, cards, ID, and business cards

and a napkin that held a number.

The cellphone and napkin caught his interest in particular, and it was then he realized there was more to this plain looking man who looked to be dead in his playroom when in reality he was just unconscious. A good blow to the back of the head, dry blood crusting on pale skin, the sight alone made Midoriya wish he could do that to himself. But now wasn’t the time to try to get off. It was time to wake up sweet little Takashi and wake him up.

The villain made sure that the chains were nice and sturdy on the wall before giving a tiny and light slap to a slightly bruised cheek.

No movement.

He tried once again, only a little harsher.

There was a tiny grunt, but still no movement.

Midoriya growled in annoyance and this time slapped the older male’s cheek as hard as he could. He would’ve used one for all, but then again, he’ll end up the killing the guy, and he really didn’t want to do that…not yet anyways.

“Ah!” Takashi yelped, earning a wide smirk from the younger male in front of him. He watched him closely. Watched him slowly come back to reality and all the memories flow back into his brain.

“I’m so happy you decided to wake up Takashi~” Midoriya purred, his fingers slipping into his breast pocket and taking out his signature black gloves that he always kept on him at all times. He held the index finger of one with his teeth then slipped it on his other hand after putting on the right glove. “Now…then..I wanna play a little’s a fun game, and it’s an easy one!”

Midoriya happily went back to his tray full of tools and skimmed each and every one of them before picking up a syringe filled with clear liquid…well, it was a little cloudy.

“Wha…what is that…?”

“Tell me something,” Midoriya began, completely ignoring the question he received and just answering it with his own. “Are they your lovers in some weird polygamous relationship, or just some booty call~?”


“That number! And the random numbers in your phone!” The villain clarified with a joyful smile. From what he remembered correctly, he found a number that looked to belong to a wife of his, meanwhile, he had a couple other numbers that belonged to other women whom he was most definitely having sexual affairs with. He would know, for they’ve held messages he wished he could unread. “You’re not so loyal are you~? Commitment issues I’m guessing~? Or maybe there’s more to it that I’m not understanding..~”

“W..Wait! What are you doing!?!?”

“Oh stop squirming Takashi~ I’m just putting some sleep medicine in your blood stream~”

“What..? Why?”

“It’s all apart of the game silly!!”

“L-Let me go!! I-…I have a little girl….I have a little girl and a beautiful wife to come home to!”

“Awww but I can’t let you go! You have to play my game first!”

This bastard was quite persistent, but Midoriya was much more persistent and stubborn. In fact, nobody could go toe to toe with him and his stubborn personality. But that’s okay, it makes everything all the more fun when they resist~

For SasuSaku Month 2017.

After buying food at a nearby restaurant, a man in a black coat seated himself on a table by the open entrance, laying his dish in front of him. It was a sunny day with the occasional cool wind passing by, and people were chattering normally in the surroundings. All in all, it seemed to be another one of those peaceful days.

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chapped lips

A/N: it definitely has not been 84 years since i last posted something other than a snippet… idk what time vortex you have been sucked into, but nope, it’s definitely only been a few hours since i last posted something. enjoy! the word count is 463 words so this is more of a drabble… 

 summary: you love watching peter take pictures, but it’s really cold outside.

 pairing: peter parker x reader

You were sitting on the bench, bored as could be. It was cold and damp outside and you were snuggled up in multiple layers, even wearing Peter’s beanie since you’d forgotten yours and your ears were turning red.

You watched him silently, still bored, as he took pictures of the scenery around the two of you. He was mostly focused on the people immersed in their activities and the river. You usually loved to watch him take pictures on his camera, but today you were tired and cranky and cold.

And your lips were getting dry.

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[you can reblog this, ESPECIALLY if you are NOT in special ed]

Sometimes I wish special ed teachers and non special-ed students could experience what it’s like to be in special ed for just a while.

Just to see what it’s like in your preteen years, when the inevitable “who am I?” question comes up. Your teachers have the answer for you. You feel bruised when you count all the things you’ve been called when you slip up, when you fail to become neurotypical in a second.

Ridiculous. Stupid. Worthless. Lazy. Hysterical. Childish. You blink away the tears. Right.

When you forgot to bring your lunch, your notebook, your eraser and you feel your pulse quicken on the schoolbus. The feeling of being discarded as lazy and stupid when you reallycouldn'thelpit again sends a jolt of terror down your spine. You can’t relax so you just gulp. Help.

When you’re working on an assignment at your own pace and you feel the breathing of your learning aid down your neck. When you’re trying to impress what’s-their-name with the gorgeous smile and the perfect hair and you feel beady, watching, eyes staring at you, making you uncomfortable beyond words and your potential date (or at least friend) shuffle away so slightly they must think you don’t notice. You do.

Puberty kicking in. Anger meets with mood swings meets with resentment for the teacher who ruined your life. You talk back to your teacher for the first time.

You’re stimming out of joy - clapping your hands, flapping your hands, whatever you do - and your teacher snaps at you to stop it. You ask why, and she tells you, “normal people don’t do that.” You think about whatever made you oh-so-happy again when you get home and find that the joy has been replaced by tears and shame.

You forget your calculator for Maths. Ridiculousstupidworthless. The words sting like crazy but you’re used to it.

Middle fingers sweating under your pockets as you hope the outlines aren’t enough for your teacher to notice what you’re doing. The teacher looks at you and your heart quickens. She doesn’t.

You look at your aid giggling with another special ed teacher. They’re pointing at you. When one of them comes to tell you your underwear is showing, you decide teachers can be just as cruel and petty as gossipy teenagers.

You’re fourteen, and you’re steaming mad when you notice that all your life you’ve been told people were so close-minded in the olden days that they dismissed Picasso because he was different. The same teacher calls you ridiculous for thinking the way you do. You don’t point it out.

In the one-on-one room, and there’s a girl hunched up in the corner. She says her learning aid’s on break. Even her voice sounds honest, and when you talk to her, you notice there’s no determination or hope or motivation in there. Just bitterness, like the peel of an orange. The girl’s given up.

You look back a few years later, and you realize your voice sounds like her. Your shoulders slump in the same way. You’ve given up.

You’re walking down the hallway, and you see a special ed child in around fourth grade who’s the spitting image of your childhood self. They’re being berated by their teacher - ridiculousstupidworthless - and when they’re alone they do that little shaky smile that somebody does when they’re trying not to cry. You fill up with anger and resentment.

You blink.

Kids asking you if you were mentally handicapped in second grade.

Telling your learning aid you have depression at age twelve. Her eyes lighting up with delight to have finally sorted you into a box and having her exclaim, “you’re just making up excuses!”

Always feeling different. Alone. Notgoodenough. Never good enough for the other kids.

Breaking down in your therapists chair and mumbling “it all started with a teacher”.

Learning aides shouting at you consistently throughout the years. Confusion turning into sadness. Sadness turning into anger, a pit of special ed fury. You have no idea how deep it goes.

“Why are you so angry all the time?” You don’t know the half of it.

All I wish was that they knew the half of it.


you’ve heard of RFA & Minor Trio proposing to MC, now get ready for: MC proposing to all these dorks ^^ hope you’re doing well btw

✿ sasjh ahh thank you for your ko-fi support, you’re all so generous. ♥ I tried a bit of a different format for this, please tell me if you like it!

You propose to Yoosung in possibly the most stereotypical way imaginable – by trying to spell it out on the high score field of your favorite arcade game.

Unfortunately, you and Yoosung share the same favorite arcade game (Honey Buddha Racers) and Yoosung is dense as a brick, so when you get the highest score on the game and input ‘Yoosung’ on the line, he finds it later, laughs at you and, thinking it’s some sort of joke, proceeds to beat your score and input your name on the top line. You beat him back, putting his name first again and thinking you should ban him from the game parlor until you’re freaking finished, but you don’t want to arouse his suspicion just yet.

The next day, you manage to get just under your high-score and input Will, but you have some trouble getting the other words to align right (including being undermined by some jerk who apparently was obsessed with getting onto the leaderboards) so you can only get two parts of your message before your prescribed playing time for the day is over.

The third time you try, you dedicate your entire Saturday afternoon to setting up your proposal, and approximately fifteen minutes before you’re supposed to meet Yoosung for dinner, you finish. Pleased, you go out to a restaurant with him, and then casually say you should check out the arcade afterwards.

He agrees. You both go in and, immediately he suggests a round of Honey Buddha Racers. You bring him to the machine, and on the screen, is…






“What?” Yoosung asks, squinting at the screen, and you clench your fists, seething and cursing to yourself. You were gone for like, an hour tops, and someone had ruined your proposal by beating one of your scores?


You get on one knee and propose anyway, because SCREW KEVIN, you were not letting him ruin your STUPID PROPOSAL.

(Despite the hiccups, Yoosung has stars in his eyes as he accepts.)

You propose to Zen with a smile, a rose clenched between your teeth and glittery flower petals strewn on the bed around you.

You’d gotten the idea from one of his musicals, specifically the one where Zen played a womanizing cat-boy who proposed to the female lead in the third act while wearing a diamond-encrusted speedo. Not to be outdone by your (soon-to-be) fiancée, you consume as many romantic movies, tv shows, and songs as possible in an attempt to melt down their contents and create the ur-proposal that would dominate all proposals for decades to come. They’d teach classes on your romantic ability, studying your silver tongue and your amorous passion! Stand aside, Cassanova! It was time for you to dominate history!

…Which is why you had a camera set up to record the entire thing.

Zen walks in to see you, in an exactingly pressed tuxedo, lying with one hand propping up your head and the other holding out a ring box. After a moment, you get up, and you do not climb off the bed, no – you billow. You sweep. You do a number of grand, romantic movements before you end up in front of him, on one knee, presenting him a diamond.

You whip the rose out of your mouth. You present it to him. He takes it, avoiding the spot that’s kind of shiny from your spit, and you recite a sonnet that you wrote and practiced extensively in the mirror specifically for him. You expected a lot of things – for him to swoon, for his knees to tremble, for him to grab your hands and say Yes, yes! Absolutely, yes! Let’s get married tomorrow!

Zen only does one of those things, instead bursting out laughing, putting his face in his hands… and saying that he loves you so much and that he will, without a doubt, promise to spend the rest of his life with you.

You propose to Jaehee with a cake.

Honestly, your planning could have been better. It was nothing to do with the cake itself! It was perfect! Handmade icing topping a perfectly moist chocolate body, gorgeous floral decorations, and a fondant that didn’t actually taste like shit with the words will you marry me? in a perfect, calligraphy-esque script on the top. It was her favorite color, favorite flavor, and your presentation was spot on, delivering it to her at the end of her shift along with a cup of coffee and a kiss on her cheek. No, your mistake was much smaller, much simpler than that.

After Jaehee squeals, hugs you, and says yesyesyes! About a million and one times, she asks you, like – not to be weird, but – where’s the ring?

And you look at the cake.

And you sweat, because you thought it would be cute to bake the goddamn diamond inside.

“Uh,” you say, and Jaehee facepalms and laughs.

You eat the entire cake during an all-day Zen musical binge, while making sure to take small, careful bites as you look for the ring.

[the rest are beneath the read-more!]

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▶ 2. adoration [ m ]

Originally posted by jungkooksarms

▶   Genre: Smut. (Werewolf!BTS)
▶   Description: It’s possibly the worst time to forget to lock the doors; Namjoon’s in heat.
▶   Word count: 7,099. 
▶   Author’s note: WHAT HAVE I JUST WRITTEN.

Jin taps his foot impatiently, his eyes simultaneously jumping from the clock and then back down to his younger, Jungkook.

“Hyung,” Jungkook mumbles, reaching for Jin’s arm before pulling away in fear he might jump if he were to touch him. “I’m sure she’s fine.”

Jin responds with a deadly glare over in Jungkook’s direction, his fists balled up, just about ready to strike.

“She’s probably just working a little late or something,” Yoongi adds, really paying no attention to the elder besides him.

“I’ve never seen you get like this, hyung.” Taehyung chuckles, flipping over onto his back to relieve some of the discomfort brought on by laying on his front.

Jin scans the room again, noticing that the other two boys, Hoseok and Jimin, were indeed there but, to his surprise, Namjoon was nowhere to be seen.

“Where’s Namjoon?” Jin asks dangerously, anxiously popping up from his seat next to Jungkook and running over to the bathroom door. His hand almost magnetizes towards the handle, forcibly opening the door and scanning the dark and empty inside.

“He’s not here, hyung.” Hoseok grumbles with an intonation of annoyance in his voice, plopping down right onto Taehyung’s outstretched legs, a bowl of ice cream in hand. “Do you really not remember?”

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