#'females' is CRAZY but agreed why is he so teeny. when was this decided <- not complaining

[xxplastic-cubexx]

the thing that’s so wild to me with comic charles is that he’s literally just as slim and small as the females in the comics LIKE THAT WAS A CONSCIOUS DECISION HE HAS THE SAME BODY TYPE AS EMMA FROST.

everyones so mean to him and he's literally only three apples tall..........

[kessielrg]

[Dragon Age] Oreos

Summary: In which Varric teaches his kid the proper way to dunk an Oreo. Hawke is there to be an as-…sistant. [oneshot][female humorous Hawke][modern AU]

Rating: K+

Word Count: 1,971 words

If you liked this story, please reblog!

---

“Now where did I put them?” Varric mumbled to himself as he looked through the pantry. He cursed to himself when he tried to reach a bit higher up. Curse the Maker for making him vertically challenged. Had to use a stool in his own home and still couldn’t reach the top shelf. Go figure.

“Got it!” the dwarf exclaimed as his hand got a firm hold of the plastic packaging. After a very careful extraction, Varric held the Oreo package close as he then moved the stool to its rightful corner. He placed the Oreos on a serving tray he had arranged on the kitchen counter. Humming some Kidz Bop song he heard earlier, he then went into the fridge to pull out the milk.

As he poured the milk into three glasses, Varric kept an ear out for the living room. The sounds of a young voice were easy to make out, but was she talking to someone else or just herself again? As he put the milk back in the fridge, Varric really wished that Hawke kept her medicine in the kitchen instead of the bathroom. The last time he checked, her prescription needed to be filled again, and Hawke had yet to do so. It worried him. It worried him a lot more than he was willing to admit.

Varric let out a sigh before taking the tray and heading into the living room. Varric had his own kid to tend to, and it wasn’t Hawke. Still didn’t stop him from letting out a sigh of relief in seeing both Hawke and Hana sitting at the living room coffee table. He wouldn’t have to force her out of bed today. Good. Not that the promise of deliciously nasty cookies was anything to ignore. Hawke was a sucker for sweets whether she was aware of it or not.

Hana seemed rather chipper though. Actively serving as the only genuine energy in the room, Varric’s daughter had her straw yellow hair pulled into two low pigtails today. She was gladly going on about some topic that Hawke couldn’t feign actual interest in. Was she going on about how pretty Selena Gomez was again, or that game that her birth giver introduced her to a few weeks back? Oh well, it didn’t matter now. Now that Varric had gotten everything ready, it was time for the main event.

“We have gathered here today for a very momentous occasion.” Varric announced, striding over to the girls and effectively earning their attention. “Today is the day that we teach 7 year old Hana Tethras how to properly dunk, and eat, Oreos.”

Hana put on a wide smile. Hawke even gave a rather generous round of applause. She even peppered it with a few “That’s our girl!” and “She’s getting so big!” cheers for extra effect. It only helped the younger girl beam with pride. Even Varric gave a light smirk of appreciation.

“Now teenybopper,” he said as he took a place across from the girls, placing the tray right in the middle of the coffee table. “How do you feel? You nervous? Already got a preemptive tummy ache from all the sugar your old man is going to let you consume?”

“Nope!” Hana told him with a firm shake of her head. She then slammed her hands down with determination before saying, “Bring it, Papa!”

“Rein it back kid,” Varric laughed, “Don’t want to get the milk all over the coffee table, do we?”

“Sorry.” Hana sheepishly apologized. She carefully took her milk glass from her father and placed it to her left. She even gave it a good, hard stare, as if she was pressuring it into not falling over later. Varric snorted before handing Hawke her glass as well, then went about divvying up the cookies.

“Ah, Oreos,” Hawke thinly mused as Varric gave her share. “The only cure for my depression.”

He tried to hold it back, Varric scoffed. “They are not. That’s what your medication is for.”

“Well, you don’t have to act so sure about it,” Hawke frowned. “Give me my delusions and plausible deniability, Varric. It’s all I got in this world.”

“You have me Hawke!” Hana quickly chirped. “And Papa too!”

Hawke gave Hana a rather tired look, not quite intended for the child to see. The woman absently placed a hand on Hana’s head. She then gently stroked the top of Hana’s head as if it were a calming mechanism. Maybe it was; something about little Hana did give off a rather comforting aura. But Hawke would be damned if she knew just what it was.

“I do.” Hawke carefully agreed- although the sentence came out more as a question. Seeing Hana’s bright smile only made Hawke a bit more dazed. Varric looked on with a rather concerned expression on his face. He gently coughed into his hand, leading the ladies’ attention back to him.

“Now, for your first proper lesson, I’ve decided to go the easy route. I’m not training my young’in with the normal Oreos- that would be an exercise and a half not to break them. No, we’re going to use double stuffed Oreos. The best kind.”

“Naw, what about the triple stuffed Oreos, Varric?” Hawke whined. “Why can’t we use them instead?”

“Too much stuff.” came the rather firm answer. “I am a man of correcting my previous mistakes, and I’m not taking that road again.”

Hawke gave a badly exaggerated groan before telling him, “Having a kid really ruined your sense of fun.”

“No,” the man asserted. “Having a kid gave me a greater sense of avoiding 3 AM puke fests because someone decided to eat too much cookie cream.”

“It was one time!” Hawke argued, despite the rather amused look she had- Hana was stifling a cute little laughter beside her. “Everyone was black-out drunk anyway, and it was the perfect prank.”

“I don’t think Sebastian would say the same.”

“Since when were you ever one for accurate reaccountments, hmm?”

“You know he’s a dunker, Hawke. It gives him a sense of purpose.”

“Was he? Always seemed more like a licker.”

“Anyway…!” Varric then loudly proclaimed. “We’re getting off topic.”

Hawke and Hana exchanged a look before erupting into a set of bemused giggles. Varric rolled his eyes. Surround yourself with girls, they said. It would be a joy, they said. At least one of them was directly related to him- he wasn’t sure why he kept the other around.

“Now that I have your attention again,” Varric told them, “Let us first begin by picking up the Oreo itself…”

. . .

In a way, this whole thing was just so Varric could easily say seven year olds had the fine motor movement to carefully manipulate something as delicate as Oreo cookies. Always write what you know, yeah? It was a bit hard to believe that his own spawn actually stuck her tongue out when she was concentrating. She definitely didn’t get that from his side of the family. If anything, it was something he could see Hawke doing…

“I finally got it!” Hana suddenly exclaimed. Varric and Hawke both looked at her at the same time. The girl was proudly showing her two Oreo halves. One side had just the cream, the other was completely clean.

“Great job, teenybopper!” Varric approved. “Hawke, lean over and muss her hair for me. I can’t reach.”

Hawke nodded, but didn’t mess up Hana’s hair. Instead, she gave her a small elbow nudge and said, “Great job, teeny. Now we can audition you for all those Oreo commercials. You’d be a shoo-in.”

Hana’s smile grew even wider at the approval. Oh, to be young and easily proud of your (usually useless) accomplishments.

“Remember to only use your teeth to scrape the cream off if your tongue can’t find a good pocket beforehand.” Varric reminded his kid. Hana gave him a firm nod before returning to the cookie. He gave her a smile as he returned to his own lot as well.

Hawke had also returned to her Oreo dunking. After two cookies, she no longer felt like licking the cream off before dunking, so she just let the Oreo soak for a few moments. It was almost a routine that she zoned out for. Dip the Oreo, wait a bit, then eat it. Nothing to think about. It was a legitimate surprise when half the Oreo fell into the milk as she tried to pull it out. She blinked a few times before looking up at Varric.

“Varrrric,” Hawke whined, “Cookies got lost in milk!”

“That’s because you tried to dunk too much of the Oreo in the milk.” he replied without so much looking at her. “Then you pinched it as you pulled it up, and all your mushy cookie got lost.”

“But I didn’t pinch it!” she went on. A small edge in her voice made Varric look up. For a moment, he wondered if she was legitimately upset about it. “I only had half of it in the milk- you saw it! Tell ‘im, Hana.”

“You’re so funny, Hawke!” Hana laughed. The poor girl obviously not seeing that Hawke wasn’t quite being dramatic on purpose this time. Not that Varric could blame her- he’d bottle that innocence up and repackage it back into Hawke herself if he could.

“A real barrel of monkeys.” Varric mused. He gave a small click of his tongue before asking, “Hawke, did you take your meds today?”

Hawke proceeded to look at him like he was crazy. The dwarf was unrelenting, though. He had full plans of staring her down until Hana interrupted all of their thoughts with a musing;

“What do they make Oreo filling with anyway?”

A silence followed after this. Mostly because Varric didn’t want to stop nonverbally bullying Hawke into confessing she wasn’t taking care of herself again. He had to relent, letting out a defeated sigh before telling Hana, “Dunno, teenybopper. We can look it up later if you want.”

Hana gave a thoughtful hum and a little nod of her head, her attention too focused on staring at the Oreos now. Varric shook his head at her, before trying turning his attention back to Hawke. But Hawke had left the coffee table. She had slunk her way onto the couch, and was now actively trying to find the TV remote. That meant in a few minutes, Hawke would find something on TV that interested Hana, and the Oreo eating portion of their day officially over.

And Varric would be the one cleaning up the mess, because of course he would.

Varric let out a sigh before starting to get up. He made a trip to the kitchen to get a note off the fridge, then went back into the living room and straight to Hawke.

“The pharmacy closes in six hours,” he told her as he handed the note over, “Call them, or I’ll sit on you.”

Hawke looked at him, not sure whether to be amused or angered.

“Having a kid really ruined your sense of privacy.” she said, almost in a grumble

“No,” he told her. “Having a kid gave me a greater sense of caring for others. I’m not asking you twice, Hawke. Call them.”

The corners of Hawke’s mouth twitched as if she wanted to tell him off. He never gave her the chance. Instead, he sat back over with Hana, and quite purposely started to make conversation with her. The girl was rather ignorant of the friction between the two friends. In a way, Varric was grateful for it. She’d know and understand it better when she was older. But for now ignorance was bliss.

He just prayed that every force used to beat Hawke down never reached his own kid.

[l0chn3ss]

Finally

MaStar; All throughout their life, Black Star has always brushed Maka's bangs behind her ears. He goes from doing it out of necessity to want. AO3.

Written for Liz’s Birthday 2020 ily @happyisahabit

Maka was a teeny thing as a child, but Black Star guessed that all children started out small. He was merely a year older and an entire inch shorter than her, a fact that he was reminded of constantly whenever he visited his neighbor’s yard.

The only solace he had were her own words. She said, “My papa said boys get a growth squirt when they are older!”

He stared at her. “You mean ‘spurt’?”

“That is what I said. ‘Squirt,’” Maka’s four-year-old tongue betrayed her. She used her palm to brush her bangs from her eyes, indignant.

He helped her because his fingers were more developed and precise. After watching Maka’s mom for a while, he knew that Maka liked her hair tucked behind her ears.

She tried to shake him away, but stopped when her hair fell back, messy once again. She threw him a glare as if he were the sole cause.

“Stop moving, you baby,” Black Star said, taking a finger to push her long bangs aside. He moved the strands carefully to prove that he could, going slowly and deliberately to make sure that she knew.

This time, she allowed him because it needed to be done. Mama wasn’t around to do so for her, but Maka wasn’t pleased.

----------

They were older than before and Black Star had become well practiced in fixing Maka’s hair. Whether they were fingerpainting or pursuing other art projects, Maka’s sleek half-Asian hair never stayed perfectly in her pigtails. The colorful elastic bands always slipped from their place, away from her head. He liked to fling them away between his index and thumb into the grass where she couldn’t find them.

She insisted on having her hair cut just before they worked with play-doh. After all, Maka wanted to look her best when they played house— and by house, she meant domestic warfare. From her keen, eight-year-old hands, she sculpted excellent figures of a family by her standards, but the new length of her bangs made them hard to manage. With her fingers smelly from the clay, she refused to touch her dress nor her hair.

Black Star didn’t have the same reservations. He put down the little model sword that he was making for her… blob… and wiped his hands with the wet towelette that her mom trained her to keep around.

“Look here,” he commanded, leaving the previously folded cloth as a squeezed ball on the table where he found it.

Maka already knew what he wanted with her, because he assumed that he knew what she wanted. “No. There’s probably still play-doh under your nails.”

“I cleaned it.”

She glanced over. “Then why is there still blue under it?”

He ignored her and told her again. The second time, he sounded more whiny and impatient. “You know it’s bothering you.”

Sighing, Maka said, “It is, but I can fix my hair later.”

“Let’s just do it now.” Black Star already leaned over to handle a pigtail, knowing that she would allow it. “You’ll just get mad if you wait.”

Ultimately, Maka had to drop what she was working on and agree with him. She moved her head to face forward as muscle memory trained her to do, and she held onto the stool with both hands between her thighs, ensuring that she wouldn’t move during the fix-up. It rocked slightly since the legs were uneven with the kitchen floor, but Black Star didn’t notice the small clicking sounds it made.

Instead, he undid her band and tightened a loop closer to the back of her head rather than to the side as she liked it. He finished it off lower and by her neck, the position promising steadiness. After doing the other side in the same way, he pulled out two clips from the front pocket of his overalls in the shape of butterflies.

Seeing her protest, he explained, “Come on. You’ve been itching your forehead with your arm all day. You can’t have it behind your ears.”

Blunt ends of her hair would do that, but she tried a different approach. “You have the purple and yellow barrettes! Those are opposite colors. I don’t want to wear that.”

“Colors don’t have opposites, squirt.”

“If you remember from the Blue’s Clues computer game we used to play, you would remember that there are,” she scowled. “Purple and yellow make brown, and blue and red make purple so that leaves out yellow, which makes it—“

“Hold still,” Black Star said, parting her bangs in half and sliding the yellow of the pair in place. “Ok, other side.”

He moved onto her right side, only for her to swivel her neck to the other side, effectively showing the crown of her head. Black Star paced around to reach, but Maka moved again, making a small sound that resembled a “hmph.”

“It’s just going to get loose if you keep doing that.”

She didn’t answer immediately, but eventually admitted quietly, “It already did.”

Black Star laughed when she twirled around properly so he could see her. Lo and behold, the little butterfly did droop from its own weight down to her temple.

Promising, he said while he finished, “I’ll get better colors next time, Maks. You keep leaving these ones at my house, though.”

“The polka dot ones should still be in your room, I think.”

He bopped the back of her head to let her know that he was done and returned to his seat, glad that she didn’t notice the small blue clumps of clay in her hair.

----------

Maka’s hair curled where she kept it behind her ear, but the rest of it was straight and fine. It still grew tangled when the wind was too strong and hard to tame in the morning, but she only played with the ends by her shoulders when she was nervous. During PE class, she was flighty.

She picked stray strands that frizzed away, rubbing them between her fingers as she watched the other teams’ ten minute game. Her’s had a moment to rest before they faced off in the next rotation, but for some reason, she didn’t feel at ease, nor did her heart seem to settle its discomfort.

It was nerves, she decided as she watched Black Star’s group face off their opponents in handball. Any one would feel the same if they knew how much it hurt to be on the receiving end of his throws.

He was an awkward size. His neck was too long. His gym shirt reached below his waist. His feet were too small for the oversized shoes he had to wear before they were eventually too tight.

Middle school was not kind to tween boys, but neither was it for tween girls.

She was crossing her legs because of the darkened hair growing on her shins and hated the training bra that she had to wear despite not showing any signs of growth. In the locker room, she swears an eighth grader was showing off black lace under her shirt while rumors of a sixth grader wearing a thong spread like a virus.

Who knew what else they talked about in the boy’s room?

Though Black Star was a grade above hers, they had a joint seventh and eighth grade class during their PE period. It was fine to her— she could keep up with the best of them after all— but the girls were always hoping to get the attention of their counterparts, even his.

Boy-crazy, Maka rolled her eyes, sure that she wasn’t one of them.

The two classmates who sat beside her on the pavement giggled behind their hands. Maka listened in to their conversation as a fellow girl, but didn’t join their remarks about how each boy ‘scored’ on a one to ten scale. However, once they got to Star, Maka leaned in closer out of curiosity.

They judged him on his athletic abilities and how much hair gel he used compared to the other boys in his grade. Though he wasn’t going to win ‘Best Hair’ for the yearbook’s Hall of Fame, he had a running chance at winning ‘Class Clown.” He ran around with a catchphrase and got along with most people. By all accounts, even if he got a C in History and English, he was still a seven when most others were a six or five.

The girls asked Maka if she agreed, but she feigned disinterest and said that growing up around him had desensitized her. Not only that—he was still her height. But they were undeterred, attempting to convince her with a few other points that almost seemed like they had already previously thought their arguments.

Black Star was a team player, they said, but Maka countered that he liked being the best of the bunch. He does everything in his power to help people out, they said, but Maka referred to the times he made situations worse, not better.

Somewhere along the way, Maka agreed that she enjoyed his company somewhat, just as he approached and overheard just that one bit.

“You talkin’ ‘bout me, Maks?” he cocked his head to the side, foam ball tucked under his arm.

Maka heard a few giggles and was instantly irritated. The biases that those girls had were laughable themselves, but that wasn’t the issue; it was that Black Star was painfully oblivious to how annoying he was.

On the curve of his rounded cheeks, there was a developing lump of a pink pimple that rose when he smiled. Her eyes were drawn to it unwittingly— the pimple, not the smile.

“You wish,” she retorted, taking hold of his hand to help herself onto her feet. “We were just talking about how we’re going to crush your team.”

While she looked behind her as part of a girl code confirmation, the both of them gave each other a quick glance before dissolving back into teeters. Of course Maka would be the only female on their co-ed team who was interested in doing that, she realized belatedly.

Oblivious, as always, Black Star handed her the ball and announced that he had won their most recent victory. Her team would be just another one for the scoreboard.

Before she could turn away and ignite her competitive streak, he stopped her. He kindly said, “Your bangs are stuck to your sweat, squirt,” hand moving to correct it.

Fully aware of their audience and the shuffling of students on the blacktop, Maka stopped his hand from brushing back her hair, something she’d never done before. “I can do it myself.” And she did, walking away and ignoring the hurt he blatantly showed on his face.

Her team did not win the final round that day.

----------

On her graduation day, Black Star happily clapped as he watched Maka toss her cap into the air.

The summer evening was hot. He remembered his own being just as much. The orange and white robes were horrible school colors and trapped the heat under the folds. Even the stadium was devoid of a breeze, but the excitement of the graduates was unaffected.

Families began their way towards the center of the mass while a few kids separated away from their friends to push outwards. Sid texted Maka, ‘We’re going to the parking lot,” but Black Star knew that Maka wouldn’t see the message until she was cleared out by the security team.

Spirit cried into the flowers that he bought a day in advance; a few of the buds bloomed from the age while the rest did from the warmth. Mira patted him lightly on the shoulder and reminded him that they still had to take pictures, reaching into her fanny pack for a small bundle of tissues.

He blew his snot out loudly while Sid reminded Mira that she was equally a mess when Star graduated, too.

A good while after, Maka fumbled out with an array of ribbons and flower leis around her neck. It was clear she was looking for her decorated cap, but realized that it was forever lost like her bobby pins after prom. Upon seeing her family, Maka rushed with her arms open, uncharacteristically physically welcome, with her papa ready to meet her half way.

Black Star caught the flowers before they hit the ground, but Spirit paid no mind, crying all over again while Mira snapped pictures on her digital camera. Father and daughter stayed for a bit until Maka eventually pushed him away to hug the rest of her party, smiling widely with her family friends and eventually holding Black Star tightly around his middle.

“Congrats, squirt.”

He was finally taller than her. His chin rested easily on the top of her head, fitting nicely when she wanted to be close to him. They embraced long and soundly, rocking from side to side on their feet until Spirit blew his nose again.

Upon separating, Black Star handed Maka the flowers from Papa and joined the candy lei that previously hung from his arm with the rest of the celebratory gifts she had received throughout the night. Her sashes and tassels were drowned out by the weight. Even Sid gave her a lei decorated with carefully folded bills and kukui nuts.

“We have to recreate the picture we took last year!” Maka announced to Star, gesturing to Mira for help.

“First,” Mira said, “we need group photos.”

Sheepishly, Maka sobered down, hopeful for good shots to remember the day.

With her lowered energy, it gave Black Star the chance to really look at her. Maka wore her regalia proudly; the leis wrapped around her like a lion’s mane and made her look top heavy for once. She had her hair braided back to fit her now lost cap, and she was clearly sweating, not aware of it herself.

He absentmindedly reached to her head; the memory of doing so was dug too deeply for him to forget. He stopped just as she noticed, clenching his open hand into a fist to lower it, but Maka smiled and tilted her head towards him, familiarly. He hesitantly took a deep breath and continued slowly, just in case she changed her mind.

She didn’t.

He grazed her forehead with two fingers to tuck her sticky bangs behind her ear, clumsily but deliberately as though they were children. Maka was thankful for it, especially because she couldn’t reach her arms above her head due to her sleeves and her decor. She moved her head to the other side, naturally, wanting him to do the same again. Of course, Black Star relented, giving into the urge he had been fighting ever since he was still in school.

Sid broke the spell. “You look fine, Maks,” he assured. He held out his arm for a side hug while Spirit took his place on her left.

With her distracted, Black Star pulled out his last gift out of Mira’s tote bag that he had stowed away while everyone left the stadium. He had snuck into the center of the chaos while the other three left, following shortly after he claimed his prize. Because Maka had done it for him last year, he felt it was only right to return the favor.

Mira took the picture just at the right moment— when Star fitted Maka’s graduation cap on top of her head, complete with the tassel and all.

----------

Maka returned home for spring break. She was exhausted, half from her studies and half from her travel. Instead of properly setting up the futon in Star’s living room, she threw herself on top of the cushions in couch form, sighing deeply into the softness. There, she napped past her alarm and into the evening, not stirring when Star finally returned to his apartment after work.

Instead of going directly to college like many of their friends, he found employment in their local city. He never thought he’d be the type to like being stuck in one spot, close to where he grew up, but he took vacations and PTO often. Most of all, he visited Maka out of state and made sure that she always had a home away from home.

Black Star knew that she arrived close to noontime; he gave her permission to use the spare key that he mailed to her months ago when he moved in. What he didn’t expect was that her luggage was unpacked and laid as a tripping hazard at the front door. Seeing her head on the arm of the sofa, he wheeled in the suitcase into his room for her and took the chance to change into comfortable clothes.

Even after detouring to the bathroom, Maka was still fast asleep, comfortable and safe. She breathed heavily through her mouth, chest rising and falling, at peace. One hand rested on top of her stomach while the other hung from the edge of the couch, no doubt dropping after she turned off her alarm in her sleep.

She had a habit of doing that, Star remembered, amused. It was why she had to change the tune often and why keeping to a disciplined routine was important to her. In comparison, he had twelve alarms on his phone, each five minutes apart in order to slowly shake him awake. It drove her insane.

He decided to wake her up at six on the clock so they could grab dinner downtown. Easily, he touched her forehead and moved her bangs aside. He watched her movements carefully as she began to regain consciousness. Once she registered his face, she smiled and sat up slowly, yawning and rubbing her neck while she did.

“Fuck. You’re back already,” Maka said, voice cracked from sleep.

“It’s like six, Maks.”

“Welcome home.” She waved her hands quickly in place— jazz hands.

Star laughed, kneeling down at her level and propping his elbow on the cushion. His weight pressed down beside her. “You aren’t sleeping tonight with the nap you just had.”

“Keep me company, then. You’re good at all nighters.”

“I’ve gotten worse since you haven’t been around,” he admitted. Normally, Maka was rigid with her sleeping schedule. However when she was back, she spent as long as she could—every waking hour— at his side. “I did just have a full workday, so maybe you’ll just have to do it alone.”

She whined, “But, it’s tradition to stay up on the first night back!”

“Not if you cheated and snuck in an afternoon nap, squirt,” he grinned, resting his chin on his fist while she fell back against the armrest with a groan.

Maka had grown into her body just as Star had, and it was especially noticeable whenever they spent months apart at a time. When they reunited, sometimes, it was like he was looking at a whole new person— someone humbled and softened, challenged and forthcoming. Her clothes eventually changed to an adult look over the years, and she wore light makeup around her eyes.

There was a time when they fought bitterly over simple decisions, but later they learned to compromise and cherish. The days they could spend together were limited to stolen holidays because of Maka’s hectic schedule.

She was shy of twenty-three years old, already in grad school to earn her doctorate, while he wondered if he could keep up with her pace. He hoped he came across just a bit more mature in her eyes just the same.

Star began to play with her hair again, but along the way to the wisps, he spied just the smallest eyelash on her cheek. Using his thumb, he brushed it away, catching her attention.

He cleared his throat, continuing as though nothing had changed. “Let’s go, squirt,” he said. As he reached back to her bangs, she stopped him with a hand on his wrist.

Maka sat up quickly, revealing she was fully awake in that moment. She looked pained, her eyebrows scrunched in the middle, and she asked, “Blake, when will you treat me as a woman?”

He exhaled carefully. Treading lightly, he said, “Is this about the time I said you were like one of the bros?” He chuckled, “There’s no need to call me ‘Blake’ just for that.”

“No, that’s not what I meant,” she squeezed just a bit tighter. “You can’t be this dense.”

“Maka, you sound like you’re asking me—“ He saw the reminiscence of himself in her face— of a time before he knew to hide his emotions. “—about somethin’ else.”

She softly questioned, “What if I am?”

Star didn’t know when the shift completely transitioned themselves into uncertain territory. Maybe it was her first summer back as an undergrad, or maybe it was when they attended Senior Ball as each others’ date. Or maybe, just maybe, it was before even then.

Maka repeated the question in her head, unsure of how different it would sound to him. “Blake, am I a woman to you? Someone who will make you act as a man?”

“You’ve always been a woman,” he said, not thinking of the meaning behind his words, just that he was sure of what he felt.

When Maka sat up on the couch, fingers loose on his wrist, she was taller than he was. She looked down at him while he looked up, both aware of the closing distance between them.

“Then treat me like one,” she whispered, hand slipping down his arm.

He caught it in his, threading them together, joining their palms. “Should I? Can I?”

“You may,” her lips parted, hovering over him.

Star rose to his knees to cup her face, hand brushing her hair back behind her ears as he pulled her effortlessly towards him, kissing her lightly as she melted deep into his hold.

----------

Her hands tightened around the bouquet and she struggled to place one foot over the other on the way to her place. If Papa hadn’t been there to steady her, she would’ve fallen from weak knees some time ago. Speaking of which, Maka looked over to him.

She expected him to be emotional and wrecked. Instead, he stood proud, strength on his face and in arms. He could truly withstand the winds so long as it was for her sake, and so on her wedding day, he remained her pillar.

He asked if she was ready, and if she were being honest, the answer was no. Adrenaline flooded her system and she could hardly hear the cues. It was Spirit who willed her forward on time, up until she turned the corner to see Blake.

From then on, Maka walked to him— for him. She matched Papa’s pace perfectly, but her tunnel vision focused on her fiancé, soon-to-be-husband. Without her arm looped around Papa’s, surely, she would have already made her way to the altar much too early.

But if anything, it looked like Star wanted to go to her. He was on his toes, face relaxed with wonder. She was the only thing he could see, just as she only saw him. And once she reached him, he thanked her papa quietly, eyes never leaving her.

They could hardly listen to the ordained minister’s speech that welcomed their guests, and even worse, they stuttered on their vows when it became time to recite them. Both were much too nervous, giggling and promising silently to reread them privately later on.

When they were asked to repeat the joining words, the minister joked that it wouldn’t be difficult. The crowd laughed, but all awaited anxiously.

First it was Star. He recited, “I, Blake Barrett, take thee, Maka “Squirt” Albarn, to be my wedded wife, to have and to hold, from this day forward…”

Then it was Maka. She recited, “I, Maka Albarn, take thee, Blake “Black Star” Barrett, to be my wedded husband, to have and to hold, from this day forward…”

And once they were done and the rings in their place, he swept the veil away from her face, just as he did with her bangs as children, and he kissed her, finally.

[lazzyoh]

Act; HL!Joker x Reader

Request; Heya! Could you maybe do a one- or two-shot about how the Heath Ledger Joker of TDK and the Reader meet? Like Maybe him blowing up a Party her parents held or smth and the Reader having a Special quirk… like Illusion or something? Thank you!

Warnings: Actually no important one, might contain a Little swearing and strong language... cursing even... OH! and threatening yk ;)

Side note: no genderfriendly pronouns! Female!Reader; she/her; I decided to give her the skill/quirk of faking and copying others emotions (only their facial expressions and behavoir)… I think it’s a pretty cool thing and abolutely makeable without the Risk of being only fictional or overpowered

Everything clear? Fine. Then let’s go get it started!

                      -------------Part One-------------

The party did go on well, my parents seemed to be pleased by my act while the young man in front of me seemed to be more interested in my father and my bare skin instead of being interested in starting an active and meaningful conversation with me. Layin' my cards all on the table - this idiot sucked and I really wanted to slap that idiotic grin out of his dumb face. But as my parents warned me, that, if I dared bringing shame over the Family, they'd abandon me and never talk a single word to and about me again, I agreed with playing the toy to get them their long wanted partnership with the rival Enterprise. 

                            ❦

I mean, it's not like I actually cared, they wanted to use me and threatened with kicking me out if I'd make a wrong move, so actually I should be the first to run upstairs, slam my door shut loudly and yell at them, that I never want to see them again. But I was no one to complain, to say it with my fathers words „You can be glad to have a house and a bed you can stay and sleep in, you get everything you want, every kind of food, every doll and still you dare being ungrateful towards the one people feeding and loving you? I am really disappointed." I did sure get everything I wanted - but not love uh-uh. Never got the only thing I wanted the most, instead I was, since the day of my birth, only used by my parents for their luck... an' I mean com'on usually it's the other way'round. - The children use their parents to get what they want. But this is how normal families are, not mine, I suppose. 

                            🃏

For sure my parents spoiled me rotten badly with material things since I was little, so I shouldn't complain about a bit missing love, should I? Still, in my teens I've tried to convince myself a little too often of how their ' ”spoil me with things” would be the only way they could express their love to me' but we all know that’s only the desperate hope of a lovethirsty little Teenie. But times have changed me and the world around, I turned 18, grew pretty much up the last years... paired with the typical changes ya know - Breats grew, body formed womanly, butt and hips became a lot bigger an curvier. My friends say I've got me one delicious body, but they're a little broken in their pretty heads, a body doesn't become like this by only sleeping ( - even through in my case it did.)

                            ❦

Speaking of body - a special somebody still stared at my chest as if the material hiding it away would slip down magically to reveal to him everything he wanted to see. I let out a small annoyed sigh before putting my facade up again, sweetly smiling at him, I excused myself because I'd need to use the restroom. When in reality I'd actually just leave him stand alone like a fool and call my best friend to complain about my fucked up life... But as Destiny hated me pretty much, I never came that far to my bedroom, because just the same moment I started to walk away, our big brown Mansion door was noisily blown open - only to reveal a tall man wearing a Purple and green suit who snickered wildly while shooking his head, making his dyed hair move around his head like a crazy curtain of greens and browns. The party people weren't amused now anymore, no one was as Everyone almost in an instant recognized who this madman was. 

                            🃏

„Ähem... sorry to interrupt that pretty little Party of yours.... but ya know... got some business to do and.... stuff." He paused to lick his lips, watching the audience closely until bringing and holding his gaze at my form and eyes, his eyes scanning my face only resulted in creating one hell of a vicious grin on his lips. „My, my... where d'yo wanna go to sweets? Wanna leave now where the fun is about to blow up the place? Keep your pretty little ass right here honey... I wouldn't want to shoot a little silver bullet in that pretty head of yours, would I?~"

                            ❦

I nearly laughed at him, not because of him but because about his bad timing, couldn't he have waited until I was upstairs? Like seriously gosh…?  But even if I wanted to tell him how he could shot me a bullet in tha head and I wouldn't care less, I quickly decided it would be the best to keep that breath in, as challenging the Clown Prince of Gotham was never a good plan, and the breath I'd take for saying this words into his face would most likely be the last for me to ever take again. So I kept it silent, argued with myself before looking around and copying the fear of anyone else around. A special talent of mine I'm highly proud of - it helped me to get out of a lot unfriendly situations - I mean who can copy emotions of others that easily and realistic? No one I suppose. 

                            🃏

The green haired now walked around, his henchmen following and making sure no one's trying to play the hero of today. I watched his moves, every single Motion of his muscles couldn't left to be unseen by me, counted the times he licked his red lips, only to come up with a result of 5 in an interval of two minutes, until he stopped right infront of me, starring me down as if trying to read my mind - or killing me with only his eyes. I played the scared one, looking into his, actually hella mesmerizing, eyes, which held a soft brown color with light green and icy blue Highlights to themselves. He kept starring me down while I thought about what I would be doing now, if I would've left a little earlier. Disappointed to not be able to call my best friend and complain about my stupid Family, and their plan of selling my virginity and future to a bastard just so they could get a partnership with their latest frenenemies, I wanted to sigh but got ripped out of my daydreams by the Jokers fingers that he was rapidly and wildly snapping infront of my eyes.

                            ❦

I blinked mutual times before being able to really realize and focus on the situation. „Whatcha dreamin'bout sweets? Seems to be interesting, tell me!" I really needed to resist the urge to rise a brow, but instead of telling him that I'd like to leave that shitty place and drown myself in self-pity, I stayed silent and just looked at him with a faked scaredy-cat expression on my face. His chin seemed to... like pretty hard hit the floor at that, but just for a little second, faster than quick his face was back to normal and he started to grin maniacally, patting my head as if I was a little crying child, „You're playing me a fool, don't you little one? Acting as if you're scared but laugh at me on the inside, Ain't I righty?~" 

                            🃏

I was stunned and confused at the same time, how and why and when did he notice that? I went on with acting as if I did not now what he was about, but the clever man saw through it as if looking through a glass wall. „Okay now, now, little girlie.... - drop that pretty little act of yours, I'm not believing a second of it." The Joker looked at me intensely, his eyes almost cutting open my neck or strangling me with a single look of his, spinechilling. That's what he was. One of those few man able to make anyone shut up with only a single look, I sighed. ,,Never knew someone would be able to look through my act… but as it seems, I ain't the only one with special quirks, Ain't I?" His lips widened into a  wide and almost painful looking smirk, ,,No you ain't dollie, you surely ain't."

           ❦ 🃏 ❦ 🃏 ❦ 🃏 ❦ 🃏 ❦ 🃏 ❦

Word Count: 1.386

[poweredbycoffeeandwine]

All a Blur

I was having all of the Liam feels. I love that guy! So, here, have a fic featuring him and my female Ryder Camille. Pre-relationship because that is my jam. Borrowed some in game dialogue, and ran with it. Teeny- tiny spoilers if you havent’ made it very far in the game. Thanks to my hubs for reading and making room for my fictional infatuations.

Trigger warnings: Survivor’s guilt

All a Blur

Camille Ryder never knew what to do with nervous energy. She hated the knots in her stomach that had developed so shortly after being made Pathfinder. There was so much to do and so many relying on her. During the day cycle she kept so busy there was no time to notice how lonely she felt. Since birth she had her brother Scott. With him on the Nexus it was like a piece of her was missing. She hated that she was angry at him for not being with her, to help her overcome the grief of losing their father. Her mother had only just been taken from them much too soon, and now she was the lone Ryder in a strange sea of stars.

Once the night crept in her emotions were hovering, all too ready to crash against the walls she had carefully constructed so she could cope and fake the confidence to lead during the day. That she had been assigned a room on the Tempest that rightfully belonged to her father only made matters worse. How she wished he hadn’t always been so damn noble. Of course he would gallantly throw away his life, so full of desperately needed experience, to save his child from death.

With the limited space available on the ship, she felt so guilty that she couldn’t even bring herself to sleep on that beautiful, wonderfully soft bed since that first night. She had tossed and turned so long hating that she was in his place.  She really wanted to offer the bed to someone, but Cora would certainly spout protocol. PeeBee would get that panicked look on her face and run for good thinking she was attempting to trap her. She didn’t know Vetra well enough to presume she would bunk with her, and she doubted Lexi would be happy to hear that she had been sleeping on the cream colored sofa out of a warped sense of loyalty to her dead father. Drack would assume she was taking pity on him, and likely headbutt her instead of saying no. If she offered the spot to Jaal, how could she possibly know that she wasn’t treading on a custom of the Angara? What if it meant something crazy like marriage? Definitely best to save that sort of offer until she knew more about the Angara as she hadn’t gotten very far into the datapad she had picked up from the Arbiter.

She might be able to convince Kosta to sleep on the bed. He might feel bad at first, like he was taking advantage of her somehow, but she was certain he would get over it. Most likely after he saw it. Her mind made up, Camille sprung off the couch, set her data pad down, and pulled a hoodie over her Blasto tank. She had been the subject of ridicule the first time she left her quarters wearing the oversized Blasto shirt. She had taken it from Scott, and she wore it now mostly for a small measure of comfort. The doors to her cabin silently slid open, and she couldn’t help but focus on how eerie and oppressive the ship felt to her at night with hardly any sounds. She made her way to the small hold in the cargo bay that Kosta had taken for his own, but she hesitated outside the door. It was very late, and she had no reason to believe that he would be awake at this hour. Still, she had come, and it couldn’t hurt to try.

She gave a soft tap at his door, flinching as it broke the silence. On the other side of the barrier, she heard a series of grunts, and something that sounded like an invitation to enter. Taking cautious steps inside she started when she realized that Kosta was not only in the middle of what must have been an epic set of pushups, but he was doing them shirtless, pants riding low on his hips. The muscles on his back and his arms rippling with each movement. She tore her eyes away, feeling like a leacher. “Liam? Don’t I work you enough on the ground? How can you possibly still have enough energy to exercise?”

“All the time. Run us ragged you do. Got a lot on my mind, you know. Can’t seem to keep still.” He said as he stood picking up a towel to wipe at the sweat coating his face. “What has you up instead of taking advantage of the Pathfinder’s quarters?”

“Funny you should ask,” Ryder fired back. “It’s actually why I am here. I wanted to ask you something, but I need you to hear me out. No judgement or interrupting, ok?” She suddenly didn’t know where to look. Asking him to be her roommate had sounded like a good idea, but standing in front the idea was suddenly absurd. She didn’t want to be that girl, but the sweat beading down his neck, traveling over his clavicle, and down to his chest reminded her just how male he was.

She knew the pause in the conversation had to have been too long, so she looked up and noticed the concern in his eyes, “Sure, Ryder. Think I can manage. What do you need?”

“Well, like you said, the Pathfinder’s quarters are just so big. I hardly need all of that space to myself, and I know there isn’t quite enough space for everyone.” She knew she had begun to ramble, but she couldn’t begin to make herself come to the point. It would be much better to have stayed quiet rather than face his rejection. There was no way he would ever agree to such an arrangement. She didn’t even know why his pending refusal made her want to crawl into a hole and die. She forced herself to forge on adding, “So I was thinking that maybe you could take the bed, and I can keep sleeping on the sofa. Or possibly you and GIl or Kallo could have the room and I could take this one.”

Liam stayed quiet for a beat or two glancing from her face to the door. The waiting made her nervous and she began to shift in place. “Look, I didn’t mean to offend, and really I am not trying anything sneaky or underhanded. I really just can’t be in there alone anymore.” With a deep sigh she dropped the facade she was holding in place and let herself feel everything she had been fighting. Shoulders slumped, brows creased, she wandered to his ratty old couch and sat down hands over her face.

The weight of him caused the couch to dip, and her body to press against him, she felt the pressure of his hand on her shoulder. “Ryder,” he softly called to her, “what is going on in that head of yours? Not a bit put off, I swear it. Just shook is all. You have to know that sounds daft, right? We would be terrible flatmates, I would watch movies you hated, and you would eat all of my snacks. I bet you snore. Plus, I would have to pretend to hate your Blasto shirt, but really we would both know I was just jealous.”

She giggled, and when she realized that he had turned her emotions around again, she couldn’t help but give him a playful punch on his arm. “I knew it! Blasto is the only reason you are nice you me. You’ll have to fight me for it.”

With a small cough he replied, “You’ve got me, Pathfinder. Now that you know my secret I’ll just have to let a Kett frag you in the back so I can get my mitts on your shirt. Been at your back watching you fight remember. No way I could take you.” After a moment he put a curled knuckle under her chin, lifted it and asked, “Really, what’s eating you, and what’s this about sleeping on a regular couch when you have a proper sized bed?”

She decided to tell him everything. How she felt abandoned by Scott and her father despite them not having a choice in the matter. Knowing full well they would both have literally done anything to be with her. Causing her to feel even worse that she was being unfair to them, and the deep pit in her stomach and ball in her throat at the sheer thought of enjoying the bed meant for someone who could actually lead them. “It would have been so much better for everyone if my dad had just made the right decision and let Habitat 7 claim my life. The Initiative doesn’t need a poor man’s Alec Ryder,” Camille said through small sniffles. She had already embarrassed herself, she wasn’t going to cry in front of him, too.

When he next spoke she couldn’t help but think he sounded angry, “What do you mean you should have died? Listen, I get you aren’t the old man. Nobody could be, and we never asked you to be. But you lead us. We found that facility on Voeld, kicked them in the teeth. Great. But the Kett steal what people are. Even with your dad we might not have pulled it off. You managed.” Liam huffed, and raked a hand through his hair, “Look, I get it. Survivor's guilt, I don’t completely understand, but you’ve been through the ringer. He chose you, and I believe you can do this.”

He activated his Omni-tool and put it between them. He told her about his family, and the project car they worked on together. The hours, time and love they poured into it for no reason at all other than that they could. Just something for them to spend time together doing. She marveled at his story, it should have occurred to him that he had a past. Parents that loved him, and he loved fiercely in return. She had been so selfish wallowing in her own misery, that she forgot that almost everyone else was suffering just as much or more. His car packed into a borrowed transport slowly passing through space being the only tangible link to his mom and dad so far away made her indescribably sad but also gave her hope. “I know I’ll never see it again, it will take two point three million years at standard light speed to even get close to Andromeda,” his voice took a shaky quality, “but the important thing is that it’s coming, and always will be.” He stopped shook his head and continued brokenly, “I don’t know what that means.”

He glanced down and Camille knew that defeated pose. It was one she mirrored too often, always alone. Her heart cried for him, and as much as she struggled to go forward each day, she understood that he was doing the same. To move past all the could-have-beens and just push for a better tomorrow. Up until this very moment he had done a much better job, he was always trying to bridge the gap, and make friends out of strangers. How much she had taken his insight and training for granted.

She leaned over to him cupping his cheek in her hand. The stubble on his face somehow feeling both prickly and soft, and strangely right. She pressed her forehead to his, and discovered his hand finding purchase in her hair at the back of her head. She closed her eyes after the blurring vision behind tears she had held in check for too long threatened to overwhelm her. LIam pulled her into a firm hug, hand stroking her back giving the comfort that she didn’t realize she had needed so badly. She returned the favor; he was just as lost. After a few moments, they leaned back into the sofa her head cradled against his shoulder and bicep, his hand still in her hair. Liam started rubbing circles on her scalp with his fingertips, and put his cheek against the top of her head.

Camille didn’t know how long they sat, but when she woke with a start, leg trapped between his, arm slung across his still naked chest, she couldn’t help but be pleased at actually getting uninterrupted sleep. She didn’t even care that it might get awkward in the morning, or that their crewmates might read more into the situation than there was. It had felt like ages since she woke with a clear head, and after all they had been through she deserved rest. Liam must have felt her stirring as he stretched a bit, and pulled her back in close. Before falling back asleep he whispered into her hair, “After tonight, you go back and face your quarters like a big girl. You are more than the ghost of the old man. I’ll help, if you need it, but you can’t give up your space. No more of this posh about giving the bed up, got it?” She nodded and couldn’t agree more, but right at that moment she didn’t care about anything else but finding a few more hours peace in the arms of her friend.

[narisblog]

Master list of my favorite Bangtan fanfics

OT7 fics:

Bangtan Unleashed (Pt.2 is here)- Nobody knows the real Bangtan. What happens when the stage personas drop and the filter comes down? Pure insanity that's what.

Make Me Begin- When Jungkook is attacked, in the middle of their comeback, the rest of BTS struggle to come to terms with it and their own feelings for each other.

Blue Balls- Jimin, Jungkook and Taehyung have a bet on who will the last the longest without getting off.The others then get involved.

Yoonmin:

Expensive Tastes- The fact that submitting to his own tastes empowers Yoongi so much makes Jimin think that he and Min Yoongi are practically made for each other.Jimin is a spoilt little thing who loves expensive gifts and attention, and Yoongi cannot help but indulge him.

Yoonmin Tumblr Requests- a place for me to dump my tumblr requests for those who want to read them! probably will be mostly yoonmin smut unless people request other things

Lock and key- Jimin had been rubbing up all over him ever since he got home, telling him he smelt good. Yoongi blanched as the realization hit him.Ah shit.

give me your full attention- “I didn’t want a roommate in the first place but you’re really fucking hot and I'm having a hard time studying since you just walked into our dorm with sweaty limbs after your stupid dance practice and now I can’t concentrate on anything else but you, fuck you.”

stuck on you- jimin doesn't do the whole fwb thing, it was too complicated and people didn't interest him enough to stick around, but he guesses that he could make an exception for yoongi's sakeーat least until the grouchy, mint-haired guy starts making him feel weird things, that is.

Head Cold- “Then why did you sneeze? You only sneeze when you’re feeling sick.”“I’m not sick!” Jimin yelled, flicking his tail at Yoongi and kicking his feet furiously. Yoongi glared at him, and Jimin returned it, quirking an eyebrow in competition.“Do you wanna get spanked?” Yoongi growled, his glare growing darker.“I dare you, Daddy.”Or: Yoongi suspects Jimin is sick, and Jimin is less than happy about his oncoming cold.

Perfect Is the Sound of You Breaking- Jimin likes being good, he likes being perfect.

Take Me To Church- Jimin, much to his chagrin, has a demon called Yoongi living in his bedroom. Things would be easier if Yoongi were a soul sucking monster instead of charming and unfairly hot.

NamJin:

Trouble- "I think you'd look good in black stockings."

tell me how you want your gift- (Feat. Yoongi)- tfw yoongi and namjoon don't remember seokjin's birthday is in, like... a week.sequel to twos company, threes a party

Can’t Keep My Hands To Myself- Every time Jin bends over, Namjoon slaps his ass. It was supposed to be a joke the first few times, but now Jin seems to be bending over a lot more.

Thinking out loud- It's funny how that brain to mouth filter works huh? Well maybe not funny, But it certainly makes for a Lovely icebreaker. Even when you didn't ask.....

The beauty and the monster-  (warning:lots of smut/possible triggers) Jin is the heir to his parents' large company, but he doesn't act like the typical spoiled rich boy. Namjoon is a ruthless criminal that will stop at nothing to get what he wants. With the help of his closest gang members he is bound to succeed in everything. What happens when the beauty collides with the Monster? Not your average fairy tale.

get on your knees (say pretty please)- Seokjin hates Namjoon, and then of course, the two of them get stranded on a cabin in the middle of nowhere.

Pink- Namjoon would do anything to please his pretty princess.

up and coming; we’re fucking in an elevator- When Seokjin finally arrives home from a very long trip, Namjoon finds that he can barely control himself.

Pack Mentality (Kinda OT7)- Namjoon is possessive.

You are Only Hiding from Yourself (Feat. Yoongi)- Omegas were not allowed in K-pop. It was too risky but Jin wanted in. So like any closet omega he took suppression meds to change his smell to a beta. He got them sent from home so that everyone would not see and religiously he took them every day. But when he runs out of meds on a trip to America he soon realizes that he is putting the group at risk when his heat triggers two more.

Sope:

Everything Gone Wrong- The first thing that went wrong in Yoongi's life was when his parents signed him up as a volunteer for the new governmental genetic experiment.Then he woke up as a sort of human-wolf hybrid.And got stuck with six idiots under the same roof.All of them are eager to find out their ranks, and Yoongi specially wants to Alpha them all.He should have known that nothing would go as he desired.

Game over (Fantasy fulfilled)- Back at their apartment, Yoongi and Hoseok finish what they started at the club

The games we play (My Fantasy)- Min Yoongi knows for a fact that fantasies can become reality

Sun and Moon - You are my other side- Everyone at their university said that they both wouldn't make a very good pair because of the clash and contrast in their personalities. Boy were these other students quick to judge. Min Yoongi - A hybrid musician with the genetics of both a vampire and a nix - and Jung Hoseok - A dancer with the genetics of a nix - have been best friends since the last year of their middle school days.They now have ten pure years of friendship - a few disagreements here and there. Though, Yoongi and Hoseok kept their - well fucking hidden - 3 year raging crushes they've had towards each other - that developed on their first year of college - a secret.It wasn't until their first year at University, not even two weeks into the first semester. Yoongi got annoyed at a female student who tried to grab - read: steal - Hoseok's attention. So Yoongi decided that it was now or never, and to be fair Hoseok had never been so relieved - but lowkey pissed off that it took this long - for Yoongi's confession, that day. The only ones who know about Yoongi and Hoseok's relationship; is the small friendship group that was assembled through their roommates / classmates. Everyone else is utterly clueless.

we write sins (not tragedies)- Rival Erotica writers Yoongi and Hoseok. 50% crack, 50% porn.

Kookmin:

come on and bare your teeth- Jimin heard a twig snap somewhere in the distance, and he looked up……and found himself staring right into the eyes of a wolf. When Jimin runs away, he certainly doesn't expect to find a new home in the form of a bunch of furry beasts living inside a rock.

I’m the Hyung- Request/Prompt: No matter how many times he asserts his "hyung" status over Jungkook, Jimin still has a secret 'thing' for being dominated by him

i am a good boy (Feat. Taehyung)- The ideal couple. Jimin was short and soft in all the ways Jeongguk was tall and hard. The stuff of highly rated KBS dramas, Taehyung supposed.Until recently.aka taehyung stumbles upon (more like into) the true dynamics of his best friend's relationship ft. power bottom jimin, eager to please jeongguk and thirsty taehyung

Headed to Hell for the Company- A series of one-shots depicting Taehyung's time with his mildly sex-crazed half-demon boyfriend Jungkook.

Vkook:

Nice dream- … And he awakens, drenched in sweat, to see Jeongguk leaning over him. He feels an unmistakeable tightness in his pants. How embarrassing.“Are you okay?” the other asks, face pink. Taehyung blinks a couple of times.“Yeah, just a dream, no worries,” he reassures, voice scratchy. He hopes Jeongguk can’t tell.

Worth The Wait- Jeongguk's about to go crazy waiting for the next time the four of them can have some fun together. Luckily, one afternoon they all find themselves alone in the house once again.Lots of smut, though with a teeny bit of plot. This is a follow up to Sunday Morning, though could potentially be read as a standalone.

Assassin’s Order- CEO Taehyung gets tangled up in some illegal business without even knowing and when Assasin Jeongguk gets assigned to extract information from him after being caught, he realizes in what mess he's gotten himself into and agrees to cooperate with the assassins, after learning their true reasons, to bring down his uncle's company. What Jeongguk and Taehyung didn't expect was falling for each other in the progress.

Disaster- ALL that Jungkook needed was a click and his inner Slut was discovered and of course having a strictly religious family didn't stop him from opening his legs willingly for anyone as long as he was going too get fucked well !EXCEPT FOR ONE PERSON: V the college asshole playboy And Taehyung's only mistake was being born as V's twin brother & being in love with Jungkook.

You Are My Fifth Season- Jungkook loved Taehyung when the latter couldn't love himself. Will that love resist the hardships ahead?Or: The tales of a flawed/innocent Taehyung and a player/playboy Jungkook.-"Trust me?" -"Thrust me."

Up Above the Parachutes- Taehyung is a flight attendant, Jeongguk catches his eye (and his pants).

Notice Me Hyung- Taehyung is too stupid to understand and Jungkook must change that.

I was.- Jungkook is a sexually frustrated teen with raging hormones and shit while Taehyung is tired as fuck and he just want to take his beauty sleep.

Other ships:

Stuck in a rut (KookJoon feat. Hobi and Yoongi)-Jungkook goes into rut for the first time. Yoongi and Hoseok were just trying to help a bro out.

Burnin’ Up (Namseok)-PROMPT FILL: from anon; “I was wondering if you could write an omegaverse namseok fic, with omega namjoon? Totally fine if you cant, I was just curious ♡.”

빨간색 [And Black] (HopeMin)- Red and black. That's all that mattered at the moment.

To Know Reverence (HopeMin)- Fills for the nsfw 30 days otp challenge prompts.

Crows, Flowers, and Apples (Taegi)- Yoongi is a boxer who goes by the name Agust D, Taehyung is his boyfriend/ring boy. Or: Yoongi just got finished with a match and unwinds with Tae in the shower. aka puppies, piercings, tatttos and fluff not to mention smut

Tell Daddy what you wanna do (YoonKook)- Yoongi accidentally calls Jungkook daddy.

there are two kinds of cake (YoonJoon)- both of them you eat.(lmao alternatively it's namjoon's birthday and yoongi gets cake)

Twisted (YoonKook)- In which Yoongi is a pyromaniac in every sense of the word, Jeongguk is a psycho who is also perpetually horny and Taehyung is just an innocent bystander … (except, not really).