#that’s the most his facial hair can grow it just stops at that

[wolfythewitch]

Jon sketch

[thesummerestsolstice]

I love it when Elrond is portrayed as someone who is a little bit incomprehensible to most of the elves at first. Not even just because he's a half-elf, but because he reminds them all of so many other people, and that layering can be kind of jarring.

He sings beautifully, with a voice that sounds like no elf or man, and it reminds many of the Sindar of Luthien. It reminds some of the Noldor of someone else, another singer with raven-dark hair and starry gray eyes.

The braids he does his hair in– and he always keeps it braided at first, because letting it run loose is another thing that makes people whisper of Luthien– are in the traditional Noldor style. The survivors of Gondolin love that; Turgon always wore his hair in classical styles too. The other part of the House of Finwe that clung to traditional braids goes unmentioned. But everyone knows.

And he was clearly taught about court manners; taught to be gracious and charming, and a very good listener. The elf who could have taught Elrond those things is usually skipped over entirely, in favor of those reminiscing about Idril's graceful poise or Melian's endless patience.

He looks very much like Luthien, but there is a particular Finwean sharpness in his facial structure; something that makes him look a lot like Fingolfin, as well. Fingolfin looked very much like his father. And his older brother.

His smile is just like Earendil's (whose smile is just like Tuor's), and his strange, birdlike laugh is from Elwing. He fights and writes with his left hand– but then, so did Earendil, because while all elves are right-handed, not all humans or half-elves are. He eats no meat– just like Beren, they say, but the way Elrond tells it the choice had nothing to do with that history. There is ainuric power in him and something very human in the set of his shoulders. The flowers grow around any place he stays long enough. He gets sick in a way no elf, and certainly no maia, ever would. His accent is odd, and archaic, and changes noticeably when he's too tired to obscure it. His mannerisms are a mixture of about twelve people, almost all of whom are dead, and several of whom are not spoken of by the time he shows up in Gil-Galad's camp.

And the reflections of Elrond unsettle a lot of people; because one moment they see a fallen hero or loved one, and the next they see the person that took them. Or perhaps someone else, that they never knew at all. There is reverence and fear and uncertainty. It's messy.

Elrond himself is coming to peace with this by the War of Wrath. There is love in carrying the parts of your ancestors with you, even when they aren't around any more. And he knows better than anyone that he is always himself, first and foremost. Still, it takes everyone else a while to stop seeing a ghost and start seeing Elrond.

[writingoddess1125]

Relationship Weirdness

Kurt Wagner x GN Reader Headcanon

Funny and Silly established relationship

Masterlist

This Link leads to Kurt Wagner- Or does it???

THE NICKNAME DILEMMA

• Kurt has a Love, Hate relationship with the seemingly endless stream of nicknames you seemed to have for him and how you constantly

• Sure he had ones for you, but all classic in affection!

• Like Schatz aka his treasure, or Engel! He loves calling you Engel, Liebling also, Sweetie too in English

• However from you he does get the 'Love' Or 'Babe' but also he gets-

• 'Fuzzy Butt!', 'Blueberry', 'Sugar Booger-'

• Some he was fairly sure one was a drug inudendos as well!

"Schatz- What is will the constant changing nicknames?" He ask you one day after you kiss his cheek and weirdly called him 'Sugar Booger'

"Do you not like them?" You ask, he shakes his head.

"Nein, I like them. It's just- Isn't that a slang? For a bad thing?" He questioned, watching a weird smile goes across your face as you suddently snort up his arm like you'd done a line off him.

"Yes- You my Blue Cocaine"

He stared at you with a deadpan stare, trying to hold back his laughs as he covers his face with his hands.

You're so fucking weird-

PHYSICAL AFFECTION FUCKERY

• Kurt's tail has a mind of its own especially with you, so more often then not it will be wrapped around you, sliding up and down your back, sliding across your thighs or trying to find its way into your hands.

• He never notices until you reciprocate the affection, often leaving to him being a blushing mess when you run your fingers up the velvet like tail-

• He is naturally very physically affectionate so will cuddle you or lean against you most times.

• Sitting on the couch? Kurt will slide in right next to you. Making dinner? He will lean his weight on your back and look to see what you're making- Personal Space doesn't exist

• While Kurt is Cuddly, You are grabby-

• His tail? His fluffy little ears? His sides? All fair game!

• Seeing two fuzzy asscheeks in the shower, you see how the hair sort of swirls like a cowlick-

• You can't help but touch them-

• Earning a loud surprised noise from Kurt as he turns to look at you quite literally messing with the hair on his ass

"Really?-"

THE BEARD ERA!

• Kurt is very feline like in nature and the facial hair adds to this as well it seems.

• He will like to rub his neck and cheek against you, sometimes giving a growl/rumble as he does so.

• You can protest all you want but he will just give you an evil smile and rub his cheek against yours harder before teleporting away to avoid the consequences for giving you mild rug burn on your cheek!

• When Kurt's beard starts growing thicker he gets some ingrowns on the part were his neck meets his head so you have to open pin him to get at them-

"Stop being a big baby! It's deep!" You yell as you pin your boyfriend, watching him squirm under you in protest as you get the tweezers closer to the series of bumps.

"NEIN! LASS EN IN RUHE!" He screamed as you get the tweezers to get a big ingrown that protruded from his skin.

"AHHHHHH!!!"

THE FOOD FIASCO

• Has very weird eating habits- You often forget he was raised in a circus in Germany so he eats like it too.

• AKA Hawaii Toast-

• Your mortal enemy and the thing that you are willing the kick box over in terms of the kitchen area. The first time you saw Kurt make it, you almost sobbed at this atrocity towards both Hawaii, Italy, Bread and maybe Humanity

• "What the fuck is that!?" You almost cry out as you see the monstrosity on the counter.

"Hawaii Toast-" Kurt says calmly as he butters bread, adds ham, a ring of pineapple and some kraft cheese on top before chucking it into the toaster oven while grabbing some ketchup-

You stare at him in horror as he makes direct eye contact with you and takes a bite of this- monstrosity

• He does know how to cook luckily even if he makes Hawaii Toast for himself- Him learning recipes from your culture and you learning from his. As well as taking turns with kitchen duty!

• For Drinks- Kurt is the Master! He can open any bottle, he can make the perfect pours! He knows the exact drink you'd like off the top of his head

"You're a fucking Wizard Blue-"

You say in awe as you watch Kurt make you a drink calmly, raising a brow as he opens the beer bottle with his tail like nothing.

"I know~"

[help-itrappedmyself]

Danny Punches a Clown part 2 I guess

shoutout to @that-random-fangirl

Masterpost

The batmobile pulls into the batcave as usual once they’re done dealing with the Joker’s hostage situation, but no one is celebrating at a job well done tonight. Because while the Joker is back in Arkham, for now, it wasn’t one of them that stopped him. While the rest of them dealt with the goons downstairs, Batman went up to where the Joker was supposed to be hiding out with the kids, only to find him on the floor with a growing bruise on his face. The kids were nowhere to be seen. 

So, Batman sweeped the room, making note of a video that was still recording on the computer. Probably a taunt for him that the Joker never got to release. He pulled all the files from the computer and brought them with him when he left. 

The police arrived, the civilians were taken care of, but none of them had any idea what happened in the room the Joker was in. Apparently none of them heard anything, despite the fact the Joker had a gun with him no shots were fired. And none of them knew what happened to the kids. 

So the family gathered around the batcomputer to try and find out what had happened. They rewound the video back to the beginning, hoping to at least find out if the kids were okay.

The video opened to the Joker being his usual self, holding his gun, looking like he hadn’t yet gotten punched in the face.

“ Bats! Wonderful to see me isn’t it? I know it's been too long, and I’ve got some presents for you!” Joker turns the camera to show three kids, two no older than six, both blonde and terrified, and one that could be a teenager, probably around twelve to thirteen with black hair and looking bored. The camera swings back to the Joker after a moment. “ Of course, I have a bunch of adults too, but these little kiddos are just for you! I have such plans for them bats!” 

“Hey, crazy clown?” They hear, coming from one of the children. Joker stops ranting to look past the computer, probably at the kid who’s speaking and the bats all look at each other in disbelief.“ Look, I’m sure you have some sort of reason for all this hostage-taking and gun-waving, probably even for dressing like that.” 

“ Oh, this kid is insane.” Tim mutters.

“ However, I already have one fruitloop in my life and that is more than enough for me, so I’m going to have to leave now.”

The Joker starts laughing, he bends over and wraps his arms around his stomach laughing his normal cackle that has most of the room cringing. They watch as the child, the older one, walks right up to the Joker, who is still laughing, and punches him in the face.

They watch in silence as the Joker falls limp to the floor. Jason whistles. Then the boy turns more toward the camera, but really towards the children as he starts talking to them and they see him fully for the first time. Black hair, blue eyes, looks exhausted and he just punched the Joker in the face. The kids look amongst each other for a moment, all thinking the same thing, before turning back to the screen to see the boy, this tiny boy who called the Joker ‘crazy clown’ and punched him in the face helping the other kids escape out the window. 

“ Bruce, no.” Dick mutters. “ We don’t even know who this kid is.”

“ This kid just knocked out the Joker in one punch, if Bruce doesn’t nab him, I will.” Jason states.

Everything devolves into arguing from there, all the kids shouting amongst themselves arguing either for or against the adoption of the kid. It goes on for a while before Bruce speaks up.

“ Let’s just find the kid first.” Bruce says, He’s already pulled up facial recognition and is chatting with Oracle about the CCTV footage by the warehouse. “ All of you go get some rest, I’m going to go see if I can track him.”

“ Hey! If you’re going back out, we’re going back out!” Dick complains. “ We’re concerned about the kid too.” 

Bruce starts to argue with him, but is cut off by the sound of motorcycles as Jason and Tim start to head back out, already talking to Oracle about where to start. Dick heads out after them and Damian goes to sit in the batmobile, waiting. Bruce heaves a sigh before climbing in after him.

“ Okay, Oracle what do we have?” Batman asks.

“ I was able to track him into an alley, but nothing after that.”

Now with part 3!

[songofthepines]

WITHOUT YOU | MYDEI X ANAXA X PHAINON X M!READER

some of your facial hair has started growing, but you’ve never shaved before. you have no clue how to go about this, too timid to ask for help. however, your three roommates are happy to help– though it lands you all in something… a little less PG. (sorry if they’re ooc, i didn’t pay any attention to the story quest.. this is also my first time writing anything nsfw so lmk if there’s anything i can improve on?)

tags | @thezboss

You’ve noticed that your facial hair is longer than normal. You’ve never really thought about it, but you can’t decide if you want to grow it out or not. After sitting in the bathroom for about 10 minutes, just running your fingers over the growing stubble, you pick up Mydei’s razor on the counter. You’ve never done this before– how does this work? You’ve seen Anaxa do it, but never retained anything, usually just talking his ear off as he shaves. You’re at war with your mind, but before you can steady your hands, your roommates finally decide to check on you. You jump at the knock at the door, almost dropping the razor in the sink.

— Hey, it’s Phainon. You alright in there?

— Yeah, you dying in there or something? 

Um, I’m fine. All good.

— Are you sure? You’ve been in there a while.

I- I don’t really know, I’m kinda struggling here. You can come in. If you want.

You set the razor down on the counter, running a hand over your face. The door creaks open, and all three of your roommates are standing there. You didn’t even know Anaxa was there, he hadn’t said anything, just looming behind Mydei and Phainon like a statue. You’ve lived with them for over a year, and you’re still unnerved by them sometimes. Mostly Anaxa and Mydei, though. Phainon was the most welcoming, frequently apologizing for their callous acts. They file into the bathroom— Phainon standing behind you, Mydei sitting down on the edge of the bathtub, and Anaxa hovering in the doorway. Anaxa eyes the razor sitting on the counter and raises an eyebrow. He takes your chin in his hand, turning your face towards him.

— Are you trying to shave? 

— You’re doing a shit job.

— Mydei.

— What? He is. He hasn’t even picked up the shaving cream. He’s gonna nick himself and then come complaining to us that his face is bleeding.

— Can you stop being so mean to him? Sometimes, I’m worried he won’t renew the lease when you’re so rude to him. 

While Phainon and Mydei bicker, Anaxa picks up a face towel and wets it with warm water, looking back at you to make sure you’re watching him. He wrings it out, handing it to you and motioning for you to wash your face. You follow, soaping the bottom half of your face and scrubbing with the towel. Anaxa takes another dry towel and dries your face. 

— To get rid of oil and dead skin that clogs up the blade.

Hm. Okay.

He picks up Phainon’s shaving gel and squeezes out a generous amount onto your hand. He takes your hands in his, showing you how to apply it. Phainon and Mydei finally stop fighting, and Phainon audibly sighs, turning back to you as he rubs his face. He and Mydei are equally surprised when they see Anaxa standing next to you, looking into the mirror, showing you how to apply the gel. Phainon turns on the faucet as you finish with the gel, and you wash your hands off under the water.

— I leave the water on, so you can wash the razor after each swipe. 

— You’d better not break my razor. Don’t clog the razor up with hair and shit. Actually, give me that. I’mma change the razor for you, ‘cause you’re obviously unable to do it yourself.

Mydei picks up the razor, changing the razor as Phainon and Anaxa take you through the motions and steps of actually shaving.

Do I look stupid? I think I look silly with all the foam.

— You look fine. We all look like this when we have the foam. It’s normal.

Uh, okay. Phai, can you help me? I dunno how to do this…

— Of course.

Mydei hands you the new razor, and Phainon takes your hand in his, and leads your hands, guiding the razor. Your hands shake under his, but somehow, having all of them here makes it so much easier and your hands eventually stop shaking. You get a clean swipe and wash it off under the running water just like they showed you. You repeat until half of your face is done and Phainon lets go of your hands. 

 — Okay, you’re halfway there! Think you can do the rest by yourself?

I-I can try.

— We’re right here, dumbass. We won’t let you hurt yourself.

Yeah, okay. I can do this. 

You take a deep breath, fixing your posture. Something pops in your back, and Anaxa chuckles quietly to himself. Your hands don’t shake as much, but still you have to try to make sure they don’t shake enough to make you cut yourself. One, wash. Then another, wash. Another, wash. Last one, wash. You sigh in relief as if this was some impossible feat– but to you, it felt like it. It probably would have been that way if they hadn’t come to check on you.

Oh Aeons. Thank you guys so much. I don’t think I would have been able to do that without you here.

— Of course, don’t mention it. 

— Yeah, we don’t mind. Don’t we, Mydei?

— Sure, whatever. Yeah, I don’t mind. 

Thank you. So much. Don’t know what I would do without you three.

─────────! nsfw !─────────

Am I doing okay?

— So good. See how good you’re making him feel?

Phainon leads your hands, just as he did hours before. He guides you up and down, same as before, except instead of the sounds of running water, it’s Mydeo’s muffled groans and the soft creaking of the bed springs.  A smirk is plastered onto Anaxa’s face, one of his hands covering Mydei’s mouth, the other holding Mydei’s hip as his own meet them in a soft plap. Your hands are shaking under Phainon’s, but this time, it’s making Mydei feel a lot better. You look up to meet Mydei’s gaze, his eyebrows scrunched together. You only manage to hold eye contact for a few moments before his eyes roll into the back of his head.

— Fuck, ah– Phai- !

They don’t know what they would do without you.

© 2025 | all works are property of 「 @songofthepines 」 written by sen : do NOT steal, translate, repost, or plagiarize my work on any platform.

[beomiracles]

I fear I need a spicy mystery box with beomgyu 👀🤭

𝟐𝐊 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐓 — 「🌶️ 」 𝐌𝐘𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐘 𝐁𝐎𝐗

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐑𝐈𝐁𝐁𝐎𝐍𝐒 𝐔𝐍𝐑𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐋 𝐓𝐎 𝐑𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐀𝐋… ⸝⸝ Breaking one of his most precious rules causes Beomgyu to punish you in the way he knew most pleasurable — and you most torturous. ⸝⸝

「wc 929」

pairings meandom!beomgyu x fem!reader warnings titty fucking, nipple stimulation, facial/cum swallowing, degradation/dirty talk sub!reader/meandom!gyu (idk I forgot how to tag things)

THIS FIC IS PART OF MY 2K CELEBRATION ! read post to join <3

"Aw, come on sweet thing — you've done this to yourself, haven't you?" Beomgyu's voice is nothing but a low drawl, his hot breath crawling along your neck when he speaks. His hand wraps around your waist, tugging you down the mattress until you're firmly pressed against him — your warm skin against his. 

You shake your head, your eyes fluttering when his fingers caress your trembling jaw. The sliver of defiance makes his face twist into a small frown, and your breath hitches in your throat when Beomgyu's grip suddenly tightens on your face, his fingers digging into your cheeks. 

He sighs, "You know how important you are to me, don't you?" A sly smirk tugs at his lips, his dark eyes meeting yours in the dim light of the bedroom. — He tilts your head to the side, as if examining you closely, his gaze lazily dragging across your every feature. "That's why it's even more important for you to follow these simple rules I've set—" His grip hardens, "But... You can't even do that for me?" 

Your eyes widen, lips parting in a thousand objections. "N-No, I can! I will— please..!" Tears prick at the corners of your eyes but you force them down again, refusing to let them take over, not when you were this close to getting what you wanted. You swallow, “I didn’t mean to.. I promise, I just–” 

“Just what?” 

“Couldn’t help yourself could you?” His voice is mocking, each syllable passing his lips like an insult — for some reason it makes your stomach tingle in anticipation. Beomgyu bites back a chuckle, his head dipping to the crook of your neck. You shudder when his sharp teeth drag across your skin, hot tongue darting out to taste the sweat that coats a shiny layer on top of you. 

His hand, so dangerously close to where you need him the most, halts by the waistband of your sleep shorts. The small whine rolling off your tongue makes him raise a brow as the smirk on his lips grows. “What?” He echoes, his voice dripping with taunt. “Want me to play with your desperate cunt, is that it?” 

Beomgyu shakes his head, “Fuck no, you’ve done that yourself.” His fingers skim along your stomach, leaving goosebumps in their wake as he pushes the thin tank top you wore, up. “Why don’t you just be good and let me have my own fun first.” He doesn’t stop until he’s got one hand on your chest, thumb brushing over your hardening nipples as he watches you squirm on the bed. 

“Sound like a plan?”

Your arms ache and it feels like they’re about to give in any second now. Still, you persist as you swallow down the saliva that pooled in your mouth. “Please…” You croak, your thighs desperately rubbing together as you try to alleviate the need building between your legs. — Above you, Beomgyu scoffs as he pushes his dark hair from his sweaty forehead. “C’mon now sweet thing, don’t spoil my fun”, he groans. 

You choke on your next words as the glistening tip of his cock pushes between your tits, hitting your parted lips and smearing precum all over them before sliding back again. It had been going on for what felt like forever – and for each tantalizing thrust of his hips, your hands lost their grip on your tits as you desperately tried to squeeze them together for him. 

Your body is on fire, every second counting like ten. You knew that he was dragging it out on purpose, that he was holdin back just for the sake of torturing you, and it worked. “Please… I need you to touch me”, you whine, your eyes pleading as they peer up at him. But Beomgyu’s smirk only widens as he gives another slow thrust, “Yeah? Do you?”    

With a small nod you blink up at him, silently pleading for this torture to come to an end. Your lips part when he moves forward again, tongue darting out to give his tip a gentle lick. The subtle action makes him stutter, his brows tugging into a small frown as he hisses under his breath. “Don’t give me that look”, he grits as one of his hands slither from your shoulder and to the back of your head. — “You’re making it impossible for me to punish you.” 

You don’t respond, merely leaning forward as your mouth chases him when he gives another harsh thrust. Your lips around his tip is enough to have him utter a string of curses, his other hand fisting the bedsheets next to you as he pulls back. — The warmth of his release adds to the fire on your skin, and your mouth only opens wider to catch as much of it as possible, earning yourself a breathless moan from him. 

“You’re fucking nasty”, Beomgyu murmurs as his fingers trace your jaw. His thumb pushes your bottom lip down and you stick your tongue out to show that you’d swallowed without him having to ask. — “Fuck”, he exhales as he sits back and leans down to capture your lips in a dirty kiss.

You whine into his mouth, squirming beneath him, all too aware of how your soaked panties stuck to your skin. It’s not until one of your hands moves down your joint bodies, the tips of your fingers just barely managing to graze the hem of your underwear, that he stops you. His chuckle vibrates against your mouth when he breaks apart from the kiss. — “Guess you still haven’t learned a thing.”

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[ajaxkisser]

𝐈 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐀 𝐅𝐔𝐂𝐊 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐒𝐋𝐎𝐖

contents :: fem reader. kazuha (praise, slight body worship, aftercare, L-bomb, mentions of oral) kaeya (teasing, fingering, slight dacryphilia, praise, oral at the end).

KAZUHA thinks you’re pretty under him. with your glossy eyes and soft panting; he’d give you anything you asked for, really. you want his mouth on you? he’s drowning himself in between your thighs. you want his dick? he’s already prepping you carefully. he’s not one to tease.

and if he takes a bit too long for your liking, it’s only because he wants to make sure he’s taking proper care of you — the last thing he wants is to hurt you.

he talks you through it. his head is buried in your neck, whispering sweet nothings in between kisses while he works himself in you slowly. he feels like he’s in a dream when he’s finally fully in you, groaning at the feeling.

“you’re perfect for me” he whispers against your skin when starts fucking you, building up the pace he knows you love. he doesn’t hesitate to clasp his hands over yours to interlace your fingers, or to connect your foreheads together. he loves the intimacy it offers between the two of you.

he notices your body language change and your eyes grow unfocused from pleasure. “are you close, love?” you pulse around him in confirmation, and a soft smile breaks out on his face. he doesn’t change a thing about his pace or position, wanting to help you chase that feeling.

and when you’re cumming, he finally lets himself go as well. “oh, i love you” he whispers as he squeezes your hand, smiling at the sight in front of him.

he finds himself collapsed into your chest so you can both catch your breath. his hand is running down your body, leaving small kisses everywhere he can. “did so well, love” he compliments you over and over again until you’re falling asleep against him.

KAEYA enjoys teasing you. he’s never the type to just ‘stick it in’. he wants you to want this as bad as he does.

placing two fingers over your pussy, he taps it a few times almost politely just to feel everything. the way your body reacts, the facial expressions, and most of all: your pretty noises. “look at her, so cute n’ whiny for me.”

so he works you up until you’re almost sobbing. circling around your hole with his middle finger, dipping it in and pulling it out before you have the chance to do anything but gasp. his dick kicks in his pants at how warm you are inside, already imagining how it would feel. but he has patience.

he carefully curves his fingers into you and even he can’t help but groan at how soft it is. and when he looks up, his heart skips a beat. your precious face is scrunched up, hair sticking to your forehead as your chest rises and falls dramatically. he relents. finally, he stops teasing and pumps his fingers at a steady pace.

you’re already a mess by the first few thrusts and it only spurs him on. if anything, seeing you like this made his heart fucking sparkle.

“so good. shit, so good. so pretty.” he places a soft kiss on your forehead as his pace remains unrelenting. “spoiling me like this, baby. what did i do to deserve you?” he speaks mostly to himself when he sees your hips start bucking on their own.

he holds you down with a gentle grip, still showering you in praises, “that’s it. you can let go, baby. c’mon. let go for me.”

and when you do, he’s immediately on his knees, burying his face in between your legs to reap the rewards of his patience…

guys it's my first attempt at smut pls don't bully me (i'll cum)......

[room-surprise]

How Old Is Thistle?

(EDIT: I've made a follow-up post to this one that goes deeper into the math and additional evidence that the 5:1 ratio is correct. You can read it here!)

I've seen people debating this and a lot of folks insisting that Thistle is a child, and since Thistle just debuted in the anime, I wanted to do a full write-up to help myself and others figure this out.

We don't know how old any of the Merini family members are exactly, so the best we can do is guess based on the information we have, but after carefully studying the manga, I think Thistle is at least a teenager, but much more likely a young adult, and definitely not a prepubescent child.

Here's what we know:

EDIT: Depending on what translation you read of some of the extra materials, Freinag implies that Thistle is the same age as some of his advisors.

Here's a detailed translation of this panel from my friend Fumi:

Elves age 5 times slower than tall-men.

16 year old tall-men in Dungeon Meshi's medieval time period are adults, they commonly join the military, get married, have children, etc.

An 80 year old elf is an adult. Pattadol is 82 and she's a lieutenant in a military unit. It's her first job and she's obviously a rookie, but Captain Flamela tells Pattadol to accomplish her mission or die trying.

Many fully adult elves look like what we might consider children or young teens, because they're short, petite, and have androgynous features.

An average elven adult is around 150-155cm tall (5 ft), meaning some are shorter than that, and some are taller. Thistle is 130 cm, which is short, but not unheard of.

Fleki is 130 (26) years old and she's 140 cm tall (4'7")

Otta is 137 (27) years old and she's 130 cm (4'5") tall, the same height as Thistle!

They are both women, but there's probably plenty of elven men in their height range.

Just so we can compare Thistle to some adult elven men, Mithrun and his brother are probably adults (or close to it) in the panel on the left.

Mithrun (in this image) is somewhere between 75 and 144 (probably in his 80's), and his brother is older than him (so he could be in his late 80s or 90s). As you can see, they don't look that different from Thistle, Otta or Fleki.

So, how old is Thistle?

(Spoilers below the cut)

Thistle was brought to the royal court as a child (found on the street, stolen or purchased, we don't know how they got him). At the absolute youngest I'd guess Thistle is 25 years old here (so about 5 years old for a tall-man.) He can already play the flute, and possibly the lute, and most children that aren't prodigies can't handle playing an instrument (physically or mentally) until they're around 5.

EDIT: We now know that Thistle is the same age as Freinag, the king that takes him in! So Thistle must be at least 25 years old in this comic, though realistically he could be anywhere from 25 to 40 based on how Kui drew Freinag.

He lived in the court for an unknown amount of time, Freinag hasn't changed much but Thistle appears to have aged a little, so let's say it's been 5 years and Thistle is 30 (6) when Delgal is born. More than 5 years could have passed, but I'm trying to keep the numbers low.

Delgal gets married and has a child. Delgal should be at least 15 at this point, but since he has a full mustache before his wedding, I think he's in his 20's, since teenagers tend to not be the best at growing robust facial hair.

(He has a full beard by the time Eodio's a young child.)

Thistle puts the kingdom inside the dungeon around this point, however, people are still aging: Delgal's grandson Yaad is born, and Eodio is clearly a young adult here, probably in his 20's. Therefore, there is NO REASON to assume Thistle stopped aging. "The dungeon lords don't age" is a common fan headcanon I've seen people spreading, but it has no clear canon basis.

Yaad ages until he looks about 13-15 years old, and at this point all of the people of the kingdom and Thistle appear to stop aging, and 1,000 years pass.

So, the youngest Thistle could possibly be, if he was 30 (6) when Delgal was born, if Delgal was 15 when he had Eodio, and Eodio was 15 when he had Yaad, and Yaad is 13 years old...

Is 73 years old, which would make Thistle about 14.6 years old by tall-man standards.

HOWEVER, I think it's VERY unlikely that all the characters are that young.

I think it's clear from Kui's drawings that Delgal and Eodio are not 15 years old when they become fathers, and that Freinag is at least 25 when he takes in Thistle.

If we assume Thistle was 30 when Delgal was born, and Delgal and Eodio were both at least 20 when they had children, even if Yaad is only 13 years old, that makes Thistle at least 83 years old (16.6), and makes him older than Pattadol, who is an adult at 82.

However, I think it's entirely possible that Thistle was anywhere from 40-50 when Delgal was born, and Delgal could have been anywhere from 20 to 30 when he had Eodio, and Eodio could have been anywhere from 20-25 when he had Yaad. If you use the maximum ages, and assume Yaad is 15, then Thistle could be as old as 120 (24).

I think a reasonable middle ground is assuming Thistle was 30 (6) when Delgal was born, Delgal had Eodio at 25, Eodio had Yaad at 20, and Yaad is 15... Which would make Thistle 90 (18) years old.

This of course says nothing about Thistle's emotional maturity or sanity, he's obviously stunted in some ways, but the point I want to make here is:

Thistle's age could be anywhere from 14.6 to 24 at the most extreme, but more realistically he's somewhere between 16.6 and 18.

And that's not even counting the thousand years that he's lived since then!

And that's all I've got to say about that 🙏🙏🙏🙏

(EDIT: Follow-up post with additional evidence here.) EDIT 2: I've seen a lot of people talking about the page Kui drew talking about elven earmuffs. It's considered just barely okay for Pattadol to wear them, but it's ok for Thistle to wear them... In which case I'd say Thistle could be any age younger than 83. That's handy as it knocks out some of the older ages!

So in that case Thistle's age is between 73 years old and 82, which makes him developmentally between 14.6 and 16.4!

[steveseddie]

endlessly

written for @steddielovemonth day twenty eight “endlessly” by the cab | rating: t | wc: 2,1k | tags: post s4, three years in the future, established relationship, marriage proposal, fluff

read on ao3

There’s a shop down the street where they sell plastic rings for a quarter a piece and Eddie swears it might be his favorite thing about his and Steve’s apartment in Chicago.

Well, no. He really loves that it’s only five minutes away from Buckley’s dorm and that it has a fire exit that’s often visited by their downstairs neighbor’s cat. And of course, he also loves living there with Steve.

But that little shop is pretty sick too. Eddie is constantly misplacing his rings, and this way, it’s easier for him to replace them.

He stops by once or twice every week, which in Steve’s opinion is too much.

“You only have ten fingers, Eds, how many rings can you possibly need?” He tells him every time, but he always asks Eddie to show him his most recent buy.

Today’s visit has gotta be quick. Steve is waiting for Eddie and the black pepper he sent him to get for his homemade chili. So it’s in and out of the shop in less than five minutes, a new black band secured in his pocket, before Eddie hurries back home.

But even if he does, Steve still lets out an impatient little huff when he arrives.

“There you are!” He says, walking over to Eddie– and grabbing the black pepper from his hands, ignoring him.

Eddie lets out an offended string of noises. “And what am I? Chopped liver?”

“No, you are late,” Steve chastises, but still presses a placating kiss to Eddie’s lips before going back to the sizzling saucepan.

Eddie follows him and hops on the counter, his legs dangling back and forth as he watches Steve stir. “Unless everyone’s hiding in our bathroom, and I would be impressed, given how small it is, there’s no one here yet so there’s no way I’m late,” Eddie says petulantly.

Steve rolls his eyes, adding the black pepper to the chili. “They’ll be here soon. Rob called to say she was leaving her dorm and the kids said they’d get here around two, and you know they’ll be starving from the three hour ride. And they’ll bitch if lunch isn’t ready.”

“They’ll bitch either way,” Eddie says with a snort. “If not because of the food, then for the fact that they’re all sleeping on the floor since we only have one couch.”

Their apartment is hardly the Harringtons’ mansion, and while it’s more than enough for Eddie and Steve, it doesn’t have multiple guest rooms and mattresses to fit nine people for a weekend.

Chuckling, Steve stirs the black pepper in. “You’re probably right, remind me why we agreed to this again?”

Eddie taps his bottom lip with his finger, pretending to think. “Mm, because you can’t say no to them, and because Lucas was excited to use his newly acquired license to get them all here. Oh, and because you miss them.”

“You miss them too,” Steve points out, one hand on his hip while the other brandishes the wooden spoon in front of Eddie’s face.

“I admit to nothing!” Eddie says, but the truth is that he does.

The last time they saw the kids was a couple of months ago, when he and Steve drove to Hawkins for Wayne’s birthday and it had really hit Eddie just how much they’ve grown in the time they were away. Mike had been taller than both him and Steve, Lucas had actual facial hair. El’s curls were almost as long as Eddie’s while Max had chopped hers off and was rocking a badass bob. Will had a boyfriend and Henderson had a goddamned tattoo, for God’s sake.

Needless to say that visit had left Eddie reeling, Steve too. And while they were both excited to see them and show them around Chicago over the weekend, neither is ready to see how many other things have changed since then.

God, is this how parents feel when they watch their kids grow up? Maybe all those jokes about him and Steve co-parenting these shitheads were right all along.

“Here, try this,” Steve says, snapping Eddie out of his spiral. He holds the spoon in front of Eddie’s lips for him to taste it in a move that’s become familiar since they moved in together. Eddie leans forward and takes it into his mouth.

Then he lets out a moan.

“Fuck, Steve,” he says, watching Steve’s cheeks go pink, either at the praise or the familiar obscene sound. “That’s so good, oh my God.”

Steve ducks his head, smiling. “Yeah?”

“Mhm,” Eddie hums, licking his lips. “I’d marry you for that alone.”

It’s hardly the first time Eddie has said that, but Steve’s reaction is the same as always. His cheeks pink up even more and a pleased bashful smile stretches over his lips. He puts the spoon in the sink and covers the saucepan to let the chili simmer before he stands between Eddie’s legs.

“You keep saying that, but I’ve yet to see the ring,” Steve says, teasingly, only Eddie’s mind goes to the ring in his pocket, the black band that would look so good in Steve’s ring finger–

And before he knows it, he’s jumping off the counter and dropping to his knees.

With a raised eyebrow, Steve takes half a step back. “Eds, you know I’d let you blow me for how good my food is any day, but the kids will be here soon–”

“Get your mind out of the gutter, Steve,” Eddie scoffs. “This isn’t that, although that chili is definitely blow job worthy.”

“Well, if it isn’t that then what are you doing down there?”

Hell if I know, Eddie thinks before digging into his jeans, taking the ring out.

Steve blinks down at it. “Did you stop by that shop again?”

“Yes,” Eddie says and before Steve can protest, he adds, “But this one isn’t for me. It’s for you.”

Steve’s eyebrows shoot up in his forehead and when Eddie holds it up to him, his eyes widen, his jaw going slack.

“Oh my god.”

Eddie clears his throat. “Steve, these last three years with you have felt like a dream. Most of the time, I still can’t believe they weren’t one. That I won’t wake up from a coma at that damned secret hospital to find that none of it happened or that I died that day in the Upside Down and this is actually heaven. Life with you is just that good, sweetheart. I’m the luckiest son of a bitch because I get to come home to you every day and wake up next to you and your ridiculously bad bed head.” At that, Steve makes the first noise since Eddie started his speech– a soft wet chuckle.

“And I might be pushing my luck here, Stevie, because half the time I think I don’t deserve you. You deserve a– a gold ring and a beautiful house and someone who doesn’t think that jeans without holes in them counts as formal wear. But while I might not be able to give you that, I can and I will love you endlessly. So, ignoring the fact that legally we can’t, because fuck society, will you, Steve Harrington, marry me?”

Steve’s mouth opens with a gasp but before Eddie can get his answer, the door to their apartment swings open and in walks Robin.

She learned the hard way to use the key that they gave her cautiously after she walked in on them going at it half naked in the kitchen. The only reason why she used it today is probably because she thought it was safe to do it, knowing that they wouldn’t get up to any funny business while they were expecting the kids.

She probably didn’t expect to walk in on this instead.

To be fair, Eddie didn’t expect to do this at all today.

“Boys, look who I ran into downstairs!” She says, holding the door open for the kids before freezing on the spot. “Oh my God!”

“They’re naked, aren’t they?” Dustin groans. That damn tone is the one thing that hasn’t changed at all.

Robin sputters. “Uh, no, they’re–”

“Oh my God!” Mike gasps, echoing Robin’s words as he steps in and sees Eddie on his knees in front of Steve, the ring still held between his fingers.

“What? What?” The others ask, trying to get a look while stuck behind Mike’s tall frame.

They see El’s head pop up under his arm. “Eddie is proposing to Steve!”

“What?” Max and Dustin shriek, shoving Mike out of the way and stumbling into the apartment with Lucas and Will in tow.

Lucas gasps. “Holy shit!”

“Did he say yes?” Will asks, glancing between the two.

Dustin gives his arm a light slap. “Of course he said yes, he’s just as obsessed with Eddie as Eddie is with him.”

“Actually,” Eddie cuts in, speaking for the first time since they all barged in. “He hasn’t, you shitheads interrupted him.”

“Dude!” Max lets out an indignant huff. “What are you waiting for?”

“Yeah, Steve!” The boys all agree, El’s wide eyes do too.

“Children–” Robin chastises, but Eddie can see the curious glint in her eyes.

“I–” Steve starts, finally saying something but he doesn’t get far before Eddie interrupts him.

“Stevie, it’s okay, you just can tell me later–”

He firmly shakes his head. “No, Eds, I don’t mind that the kids are here,” he says, his lips tugging upwards as he starts his own speech. “I don’t mind that you got that ring from that shop down the street that I insist you spend way too much time in, or that we live in this small apartment and that you only own a single pair of jeans without any rips on them. I don’t care about any of that because I love you, and I love our life, and nothing would make me happier than being married to you even if it’s not official. Actually, fuck that, we can have our own wedding and it can be real to us. All that matters is that I get to love you. Endlessly.”

Eddie gapes at Steve, his heart in his throat. He wants to say something, anything, but he’s afraid he might embarrass himself by starting to cry.

“Dude,” Mike says, breaking the silence for him. “That was so sappy.”

“Shhhh!” They all say in unison while Max delivers a slap to the back of his head.

Eddie can’t help but laugh– a happy, giddy sound. “No, Wheeler is right. That was sappy.”

Steve shoots him a betrayed look. “Shut up. You’re lucky they didn’t hear your speech!”

“Don’t act like it didn’t make you swoon,” he teases.

Steve’s cheeks go red. “You’re insufferable, I take it back, I won’t marry you.”

“No take backsies!” Eddie protests, grabbing Steve’s hand and sliding the ring on. “You’re stuck with me now.”

“I know,” Steve says, his smile tipping into something soft as he hauls Eddie to his feet so he can kiss him.

Their friends cheer but the sounds quickly turn into groans as they both get a little carried away with their kiss.

“Do you guys need us to go back to the car and give you a minute to be gross?” Lucas asks after a while.

Eddie feels tempted to say yes but before he can Dustin jumps in protest. “No way! We’ve been in that car for hours and I’m starving!”

Steve and Eddie exchange a bemused look. They know their kids well.

“Well, lunch is ready, so go wash up and then you shitheads can eat.”

As soon as Steve says it, they all barrel into the apartment, squeezing into their tiny bathroom so they can wash their hands, arguing over who goes first the whole time.

Robin closes the door behind her and hands Steve her key. “I don’t think it’s not safe for me to have that,” she says sheepishly.

Eddie snorts. “Your timing really is impeccable, Buckley.”

Pulling them both in for a hug, she says, “I love you, dinguses and I’m happy for you, but if you make anyone else your Maid of Honor, I’ll kill you.”

“We love you too,” Steve chuckles, and Eddie agrees with a nod.

She pulls away, heading to the bathroom so she can also wash up.

Steve wraps his arm around Eddie’s shoulders. “And I love you,” he says with a kiss to his temple. “Endlessly.”

Eddie intertwines his fingers with the hand that rests over his shoulder, feeling the ring on Steve’s finger. It causes a flutter in his chest.

“Yeah, Stevie,” he says, giving his fingers a squeeze. “Endlessly.”

[sturnioz]

i imagine the first kiss between fratboy!chris and shy!reader was her sitting beside chris who’s counting cash and she’s just admiring him when she felt a sudden need to feel his lips and without thinking twice her body acted on it leaning in and giving him a soft and small kiss to his lips but then she realises what she did her cheeks turning red panic filled her and she quickly jumped up from the couch and ran out of the room meanwhile chris is there like “ what… “ his mouth open from shock.

I can’t write to save my life but i tried explaining the scene in my head as best as i can lmao

oh my god not me just only realising that fratboy!chris and shy!reader haven't kissed yet lol. also i changed the req up just a bit to match their dynamic..

you're sitting on the couch with your knees tucked to your chest, resting your chin on top of them, absently twisting a loose thread on your fluffy socks. chris sits next to you, leaning forward, posture rigid with his elbows digging into his thighs. his jaw is set, and his eyebrows are pulled together in concentration as he counts the crumpled dollar bills in his hand.

you can't help but watch his facial expressions — how his tongue pokes out slightly in concentration. how he mutters numbers under his breath, tone low and rough, followed by the occasional sniff as he rubs the bridge of his nose before he places the stack down on the coffee table and counting another.

there's always that tingly feeling in the pit of your stomach when you see him in his element, and your cheeks burn when you hear him sharply curse under his breath, making snide comments about how he's been underpaid by a buyer. he throws the money onto the table with a scoff, shaking his head, his tongue prodding against his cheek.

his eyes flit to you for a moment, and his eyebrow raises in a challenging way as he bluntly asks, "what? what you starin' at? y'makin' me all jittery, kid. stop it."

"m'just watching..." you mumble softly, a frown tugging at your lips. your gaze drops to your finger, still wrapped around the cotton thread on your sock, before you look back at him. "who... who underpaid you?"

"some dumb blonde from last night. s'got nothin' to do with you anyway, yeah? don't worry about it. go... go watch the tv or somethin'..." chris turns his head back to the money, muttering under his breath. "fuckin' begged me to put this on 'n you're not even watchin' it."

you make a noise under your breath, a small huff, and you turn your head to look at the tv screen. but the moment you do, you find your gaze drifting back to him.

you continue staring at him, more closely than before, feeling those little thoughts swirl around in your mind. you wonder what it would be like to casually thread your fingers through his tousled hair without having it between your thighs. you wondered what it would be like sliding up next to him, clinging to his arm without any reason, feeling him pressed against your side. the thoughts send a flutter through you, a mix of longing and shyness.

but then there's the thought that makes you heart race the most; what it would feel like to actually kiss him. it takes your breath away a little, and you wonder if he would ever want to do something like that with you — even if he does everything else.

for the first time in your life, you decide to push yourself beyond your comfort zone. you take a deep breath, feeling your heart race as you move closer to him, your plush lips puckered and ready to meet his. but just as you lean in, you're startled when chris jolts back, his eyebrows knitting together in confusion.

"what the fuck are you doin'?" his bluntness and harsh tone hit you like a cold splash of water, sending you reeling back into the couch cushions. your face grows hot, the heat creeping up your neck uncomfortable as you retreat, a pout forming on your lips. "you... you tryin' to kiss me, kid?"

you're so embarrassed, and you'd be more than happy if the couch opened up and swallowed you whole. you can't even bring yourself to look him in the eyes anymore, your fingers nervously tugging at the sleeves of his oversized sweater that you're wearing, feeling the tears of humiliation well up in your eyes.

chris stares at you, analysing your facial expression. then, with an exaggerated roll of his eyes and a scoff, he reaches out, gripping your cheeks between his fingers. he pulls you forward, closing the space between you with one swift motion as he slots his lips to yours in a kiss that's anything but gentle.

your eyes are wide in shock, stunned by the unexpected movement. you're lost in the moment, your thoughts scattering like leaves in the wind as chris' mouth moves against yours, firm and demanding. but as quickly as it began, he pulls away, pushing your head back slightly.

"fuckin' happy now?" he asks, shaking his head at your stunned expression. "jesus, kid. always fuckin' poutin' to get what you want... pisses me off."

© STURNIOZ

[bunnyinvanilla]

hi angel!! dbf!price when a silly little boy comes to take us out for a date? would love to see it xx

dadsbf!john price doesn’t behave like he somehow owns the place, but he definitely behaves like he owns you, his best friend’s too young and sweet daughter. a raised brow and a questioning look are shot towards the main door when he hears someone knocking, piercing through the poor wooden door like one of his sharp rifles.

your sweet voice chirps from upstairs, yelling a “please get the door!” poor thing you’re still putting your shoes on, spraying perfume and wishing you were going on a date with john instead, your father’s too old best friend. so he stands up, lazily walks towards the door, like a mountain brown bear that strolls with outmost confidence of his surrounding,

his expression completely shifts, darkens even, when he opens the door to find a young, plain college boy at the front. he doesnt like him straight away. he looks too full of himself, too boring, too useless.

he narrows both of his brows now, frowning down at that frat kid, and though he was definitely too old and mature to be glaring down at a kid, he appeared very skeptical and menacing.

“wrong house,” he says it with a fake, almost sardonic smile, unapologetically. he shifts his position, crossing his arms and laying against the doorframe, expecting him to disappear right away. he looks scary, intimidating, with his huge, buff body and thick, dark facial hair. exuding confidence and outmost control.

the poor guy can only look up at him with a confused expression, trying to glance past those board shoulders that were blocking his view. “she gave me this address though,”

no manners, no greetings — john only chuckles, his mustache twitching, barely able to contain a wolfish grin. this guys definitely doesn’t have a chance with you. he’s tempted to tell him that you’re not even here. “not interested, kid.”

but the light tapping of your pink converse echoed behind his back, signaling you were walking down the stairs, quickly, like a jumping little rabbit, until you stopped to stand right next to him. “hi, sorry for making you wait,” you smile at the guy, a sweet and gentle smile, yet not taking enough space on your cheeks. john has seen you smile brighter, everyday you smiled like the sun itself. but now, it appears more polite that anything.

the guy only shrugs, giving you a charming smile that’s doesn’t make you blush. “it’s alright, your dad opened the door,”

at that, john’s jaw clenches, tilting his head in a not amused manner. his hand tickles with the need of punching his face, but he has to remain composed, as a soldier, as a captain, he’s used to facing the most difficult and challenging situations with calmness and composure.

“he’s not my dad,” you quickly reply, sensing john’s body growing stiffer — you smile again, turning towards john, glossed lips and strawberry perfume, adjusting your purse on your shoulder. your big eyes practically silently telling him how that guy was only a substitute for a date you couldn’t have with him. “see you later then, sir?”

“where are you going, doll?” not even acknowledging the guy in front of you, he takes a moment to admire your outfit, warm eyes tracing every inch of you.

“he just, wants to take me to the new ice cream place that has recently opened..”

now he glances at the guy, clearly unimpressed, suspicious and definitely not happy “does your dad know?” his voice sounds rougher than usual, deep and sharp. gruffness slipping from every word.

“yes, sir, it’s just ice cream” you reassure him, though your cheeks are already growing red, warm and flushed at his questions. why doesn’t he take you out then, since he doesn’t like the idea of you going out with a guy?

“i’ll get the car,” the latter says, casually humming and walking down the front porch, jingling his keys as he strolls towards a typical car college parking lots are filled with.

you mentally sigh, trying to remain optimistic about this date. you can’t help by feel nervous, your cheeks are a bright, flaming red and you’re gripping the strap of your purse tighter, somehow embarrassed about john seeing you going out on a date.

“uhm, w-well then i-“ but before you can open your mouth to say anything else, you feel your hand being taken and lifted towards john’s lips, who’s pressing a formal kiss on your palm. your heart flutters, like it always does whenever he kisses your hand, an habit he’s grown accustomed to since meeting you for the first time.

“be careful, doll, call old john if you need anything, or if you wanna get rid of him, ‘aight little one?” he grins against your hand, knowing well that if he can’t jeopardize your little date, he can make sure you’ll be thinking about him the entire time. he knows you need a real man, you need him.

he might not be able to indulge into you like he wants to, but you’re still his little girl nonetheless. he’s never been generous with his possessions, and since the first shy smile, you’ve belonged to him.

[milkteabinniechan]

♡How to Tame a Brat - Seungmin

MINORS DNI 18+ONLY MEMBERSHIP//M.LIST

pairing: roommate! Seungmin x afab reader

summary: An accident tap on the bottom has made Seungmin a needy and curious man. You have always loved pushing his buttons. But soon, he's bending you over his lap and leaving his rings on.

warnings: teasing, spanking (rough), dom! seungmin, bratty reader

"I didn't hear an answer from you, brat. Are. You. Mine?”

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

Seungmin dropped his keys on the counter and pinched the bridge of his nose. Frustration. It poured out of every skin cell. Something he was used to but lately has been building to unsurmountable heights. You made your way around the corner to face him in the kitchen. You gave him a sweet smile before noticing his facial expression.

“Long day?” You asked in a sweet, concerned voice.

Seungmin nodded his head. His eyes half-lidded and getting heavier by the second. He ruffled your hair before making his way to the couch. He always did that, ruffled your hair like you were his little sister. So fucking annoying. The wheels in your head began to turn as you watched him walk towards the living room.

“Hey, Seungmin! Can you help me with something?”

He stopped in his tracks and turned towards you.

“Yeah?”

You smiled sweetly again and pointed to a tall shelf in the kitchen. Atop it was a small, glass cup. Seungmin followed your finger to the cup in question and shrugged in response. He walked towards the kitchen counter and reached up. You watched his body stretch up, his shirt lifting slightly to reveal the tiniest glimpse of happy trail underneath. You lifted your hand slightly and swung it down onto his unsuspecting bottom.

“Hey!” Seungmin yelped. His body jerked from the sudden contact. He turned towards you, his eyes ablaze.

“What the fuck?!” He was pissed. Like really, really pissed.

You couldn't help the smile that was growing on your face. You knew you should apologize but seeing Seungmin angry was like a drug. It was like getting really close to a lion's cage and hoping that the bars would hold him back.

“Sorry.” You said with a smirk. You couldn't stop yourself. The lion was just too tempting.

Seungmin huffed out of the kitchen before stopping in the living room, pausing and waiting.

“How would you like someone to do that to you?” His voice was husky and low. Something different and dark was ringing in the tone.

You felt your breath catch in your throat. The small heat was beginning to build something deep inside of your stomach. A small kindling of something you didn't know was there. You weren't sure how to respond. What kind of response did he want?

“What? You want me to beg for forgiveness? It's not that big of a deal.” You crossed your arms and rolled your eyes. Your bratty attitude was coming out naturally at this point.

Seungmin turned his body towards you, his eyes darkening as he said, “That's a great idea…”

You barely had time to formulate a response before Seungmin had grabbed you by the wrist and pulled you into the living room. He led you to the couch where he sat and pulled you over his lap in one swift motion. You lie there with your ass propped up and exposed. You were so stunned you didn't say a word, your brain still trying to comprehend what was happening. Soon, a large hand had made quick contact with your ass. Your body jerked and you let out a small squeak. An involuntary noise that even surprised you.

Seungmin’s breath quickened as his hand made that first contact. His mind was a fuzzy and dizzy mess consisting of only the most primal thoughts and instincts. He had never felt this way before. So excited. So in control. He was hooked.

You bit your lip and prayed that the squeak from earlier was going to be the only involuntary noise that came out of your mouth. But you wanted more. You craved another slap. Another smack. You let out a soft huff.

“Oh, is that what you call a spanking?” You could feel your stomach tightening up as you continued to taunt him.

A cheeky smile tugged at the corners of Seungmin's lips as he raised his hand to deliver another blow. And deliver he did. The second smack coming down harder than the first. Seungmin chuckled and grabbed your jaw, forcing you to look back at him.

"Don't start acting too bratty. You're supposed to be begging for forgiveness, remember?”

On the second smack, you could feel the ring on his finger. His middle finger. Metal ring, black band. You could picture it clearly in your mind and now it was leaving a red imprint on your left ass cheek.

You winced from the shock of the smack. Your legs tensing and squeezing around nothing. Seungmin rubbed the spot he had just made contact with, the heat of your skin mixing with the hot touch of his fingers. You took a deep breath, ready to fight again. You weren't going down without a fight. But as Seungmin continued to rub your skin, you couldn't help but wonder how much longer the cage could hold back the lion before he finally broke free.

“Whose is it, brat…?” Seungmin growled low. It was a question that he already knew the answer to. But he needed to hear you say it. And from the way you laid across his lap, he knew you would say it.

You pressed your lips and your legs together tightly. You tried as hard as you could to hold onto the bratty attitude, to not give into the submissive mess he was slowly turning you into.

Seungmin raised his hand again and made firm contact with your ass. This time the contact caused a pathetic moan to slip past your lips. It took everything Seungmin had not to take you right then and there. But the feeling of slapping your perfect ass, your body laid across his lap in such a vulnerable and defenseless position, he never wanted to stop. He would get you to admit that your ass belonged to him, even if it took all night long. And he hoped it did.

taglist: @simply-trash5 @sugawhaaa @trixiekaulitz @chrizzztopherbang @cassidymb121 @roanns-posts @staysinbloom @yaorzu-blog @bubblebisk @cotton-candycloudz @beautyinhypnosis @domicaru @strawberry31 @slxtmeri @newhope8 @tinyelfperson @dandelions-143 @stayyyyyyyyyyyy21 @msauthor @fun-fanfics @ell0thebell @stephanieeeyang @juskz @kimahreummm @readr1221 @kayleefriedchicken @ovulatingrn @hwnglixho @darthmaddie25 @queen-in-the-shadows @itgirlalisaa @miinhoo @greyaia @chanchansgirly @skzleeknowcore @skz-smut-reader @thatisrankharry

[lovesickhughes]

hi! loooove the celly concept!! could i request an affection letter with the prompt

Being playfully clingy in the mornings when one has an off day and the other has to rush to work

with jack hughes please?

thank u and congrats ! 🩷

a/n: switched it up a bit for why they have to get out of bed, hope you like it my angel! 👼🏼🤍 (not edited)

—

"Baby, please, c'mon," Jack groaned into your neck, his growing facial hair tickling against the skin of your shoulder while his warm breath sent electricity through your veins.

Lazy mornings with Jack were your favourite; the endless embraces, the sweet kisses, simply being close to each other with no other worries was something you cherished granted Jack's fast-paced lifestyle.

"Just five more minutes, then we can start our day." Jack grinned against your chest. You were laid against your mattress, your pillows propping your head beneath you as Jack was leaned into your side, arms wrapped tightly around your figure, insisting you stay in his hold.

You run a hand through his messy, brunette curls, loving the longer length he had been growing his hair to be before planting a soft his on his warm forehead.

"We got lots to do today, your parents are in town and want to meet us for lunch, and plus I wanna get some things done around the house." You pressed through a smile. The state you were in, the way Jack's cozy feel effected you, you couldn't help but sheepishly reciprocate the tight, loving embrace. Your fingers lightly massaged the thick muscles of his neck and shoulders, feeling his grin against your chest and hum vibrating through your bones.

Abruptly, he propped himself above you, hands bracing either side of your frame and you couldn't help but admire the sight before you. His eyes still sleepy from just waking up, to the stubble starting to grow against his jaw; even the freckles that were painted across his skin, you felt your mouth salivating and heart aching from how enamoured you were with your boy.

"Fine, if you're really that set on starting our day, I guess I have no other choice," he shrugged, causing your brows to furrow in confusion. You watched intently as Jack attempted to hold back a smile, and before you had time to question, Jack leaned down, his lips attacking your face. Kissing all over your skin, from the corner of your mouth to your forehead and bridge of your nose, you let out a squeal as your hands attempted to block Jack's efforts.

Although you didn't complain, you squirmed underneath his body, as his lips travelled sporadically from your face to your neck, to your shoulder and chest, then back up to your temple, you didn't know what to expect. All you could process was the feeling of Jack's lips, his chuckles and quick movements that were hard to dodge.

"Jack! What are you doing?" You let out excitedly, giggling as he continued to pepper kisses against your skin and he pulled back suddenly, meeting your eyes with such a look you could only question even more.

"This. Is. What. You. Get." He said in between kisses to your lips, and you had to focus, your attention being torn to the feeling of his swollen lips against your own, but you managed to reach your arms up to his face, stopping his attempts between your soft fingers.

"For what?" You smiled, unable to contain the utter happiness you felt.

"You want to drag us out of bed? Not on my watch, so now, you have to pay the price." He said effortlessly, as if it was expected. You opened your mouth to speak, but before any sound could be let out, he rolled onto his back, swiftly pulling your closer to him and his hands found your sides, delicately poking and brushing against your sensitive skin, making your burst out in laughter as he had found your most ticklish spot.

Between breaths, you squirmed, laughing until your cheeks hurt as Jack's own laugh echoed through your shared bedroom.

"Seriously, Jack— please," you laughed, your head falling back against the pillows. "I can't! We gotta— we gotta get up." You let out through breaths, your stomach muscles flexing at the feeling of Jack's fingers tickling you. He paused his playful torture, hands splayed against your side as his eyes met your gaze, nothing but love being shared between.

"If this is what it takes for me to get a few extra minutes in bed with you, baby? I'll sure as hell be tickling you more often." He said with a sly grin spreading across his lips. You rolled your eyes at his remark before leaning up to connect your lips to his, sharing a soft, sweet kiss with your favourite boy.

[lemonlover1110]

can we get boyfriend/husband fluff with toji please🥹

Pairing: Toji Fushiguro x f!Reader

Warnings: Pure Fluff

Summary: Toji tends to crack a couple of dad jokes to make you laugh.

Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi

Toji does anything to put a smile on your face. He’s picked up a habit of cracking bad jokes every five to ten minutes to hear your laugh. He says the most ridiculous things on purpose, just to lighten up your mood. He would’ve called himself an idiot a couple of years back, but nothing beats the feeling of hearing you chuckle at something he said.

“Are you paying attention?” You ask with a mouthful of popcorn, noticing that your boyfriend is intently looking at his phone. The movie that’s on is one that he picked, making you wonder what’s more interesting than what’s on the television. You try to peek at what he’s looking at, but he moves his phone so the screen is out of your sight. Your brows furrow and you yell, “Toji! Are you looking at other women?!”

“Yeah.” He’s joking, but you snatch the phone out of his hand. He whines and you begin to scroll through it, confusion consuming you. He has to look away, too embarrassed to look your way but not being brave enough to take his phone back. “Are you almost done?”

“What are these?” You ask him, reading each and every line that’s on the screen. “I’ve never been a fan of facial hair. But now it’s growing on me.”

“Well aren’t you going to laugh? That one was funny.” Toji says, and you do chuckle but not because of the awful joke.

“So you’re just looking up dad jokes whenever you’re with me.” You finally come to the realization that this is the reason why Toji is almost always taking out his phone. It’s obvious, but you never really noticed how he’d read something over and over again on his phone before repeating it to you five minutes later. You thought the awful jokes came naturally once a man turned into a dad.

He lets out a sigh before nodding. He expects you to be disappointed but in one swoop moment you throw your arms over him and begin to fill his face with kisses, “You’re just the sweetest.”

“I know.” He answers, though he doesn’t think he’s so great. He’s not going to say anything that’ll make you stop kissing him. “Some of them were originally mine though.”

“Like? Which jokes?” You ask, stopping. You proceed to lay your head on his chest, giving him back his phone so he can continue to read his awful jokes to you.

He scratches the back of his neck before admitting, “The ones that didn’t make you laugh.”

[thatlittlered]

florida!!! | aaron hotchner

warning(s): this will be a slow burn, but have faith

GIF by @katebeckets

author's note: A Hotch fic in 2024? It's more likely than you think. Part two coming tomorrow. Find me @MadeofLilies in Ao3!

-.-.-

It’s a two-hour flight from Quantico to Tampa, but the team’s already been up the day before for this case. There’s very little left in all of you to give right now so you’re mostly going through the files again or, more likely, staring blankly at the papers – sleeping with your eyes open. Rossi succumbs to the sweet call of rest first and he will most certainly be mocked for it tomorrow.

Reid is sat behind you and you can feel his frequent jolts. He’s coming in and out of sleep, always fighting it. Hotch is across from you and as always, an unwavering force. He is reading files and keeping notes without a single complaint. Not a single sign of discomfort or an urge to slow down.

You’d think he was a statue, but his humanity prevails through the peaks of facial hair just now growing in, the skin that sinks under his eyes and the softness of his breathing.

You’re no longer too aware of your surroundings, but from the corner of your eye, you see him squirm uncomfortably and glance at you before returning to his notes.

Then-

“You smell very good.”

“Oh, uh, it’s my body lotion, I think. Violet.”

He nods as if taking in the information that he can’t really use.

What exactly was the purpose of that statement? The thought of a scent emitting from the warmth of your body does something to him.

“I’m sorry, that was probably a weird thing to say.”

“Don’t worry, it wasn’t.” He nods again and silence ensues. “Maybe a little? I also feel weird complimenting people on their perfumes, it makes me feel like Buffalo Bill. It rubs the lotion on its skin.”

He laughs and his head drops downward. Full-hearted laughs from Hotch are a rare phenomenon and eliciting one is always a thrilling accomplishment.

“It’s a nice scent, let’s just leave it at that.”

“Let’s.”

-.-.-

Six hours of sleep in the hotel go by in a moment and do little to alleviate the headache that’s been building up. Tylenol it is.

Emily offers you a sympathetic smile when you meet her at the car and pats your back lovingly. You know she is just as tired.

“One of these days they’re going to stop working for me and then I’m really screwed.”

“You’re like a pretty house plant. You thrive only under very specific conditions.”

“That’s right. I only need a full eight hours of sleep, seventy-five-to-eighty-degree weather and a full stomach to not feel sick, I’m honestly very low maintenance.”

She laughs and hands you a coffee.

“I know, honey. I vow to maintain you to the best of my abilities.”

Hotch is listening from inside the car and he’s almost jealous at the comfortable banter. Chat always feels forced to him in one way or another, especially with you. It’s complicated.

You seat behind him and he looks at you through the rear mirror.

“Good morning, Hotch.”

Never boss. Never Agent. You called him Aaron once a very long time ago and he’s clung to it. He can hear it now if he tries.

He makes an effort to be warm to you and there’s a hint of a polite smile.

“Good morning.”

Emily and Spencer join you and after a quick check-in with the rest of the team in the other car, you’re ready to go.

Tampa is hot. And swampy. It was comfortable enough in the beginning when the sun was only coming out but you can’t escape its angry glare anywhere now. Your clothes are starting to cling to you and the Tylenol hasn’t worked.

Aaron notices your discomfort when you sneak away from the rest of the team and head back to the car for some shade. It’s been a long couple of hours driving around and looking at the perp’s dump sites.

“Are you okay?”

You look up and see him lean against the open car door. Brows furrowed, eyes on you. You’re always a little uncomfortable under his gaze.

“Yeah, I’m fine, I just needed a break.”

He’s not too convinced. “Is it the headache?”

“Yeah… I left my sunglasses back at the hotel and that doesn’t help much either.” You take a sip of water just in case it helps. “Who even has the energy to go around and murder people in Florida? I can barely move my arms up and down without wanting to die.”

He laughs again. You’re really getting good at this.

“That’s some fine profiling there, agent. It makes sense to assume the perp is a local.”

You squint your eyes to look at him through all the glaring sunlight and he’s smirking.

“Was that a joke from THE Agent Hotchner? Be still my beating heart.”

You smile at each other for just a second before the sun once again becomes unbearable. Your eyes close on instinct.

“Just give me a second and I’ll be back on my feet.”

“Of course, take your time.”

Next thing you know, you feel a gentle touch at the sides of your face, something being placed on the bridge of your nose. When you open your eyes again, Hotch is covered by a thin veil of black that gives you immense relief.

“Oh, Hotch, it’s not necessary.”

“It’s alright, you need them more. Keep them.”

“Thank you so much.”

He nods, now back to his regular self and walks away when he sees you’re looking better.

You follow close behind him and watch as he joins the group to comment on something Spencer said. Emily leans discreetly toward you, “Are those Hotch’s sunglasses?”

-.-.-

The air-conditioned hotel room is a lovely change of scenery by the end of it all. This time you can really take it all in, you’re not in a rush to go anywhere. A hot shower, clean linen and the scent of pine room spray in the air.

Pine might be an odd choice for a Floridian beach resort, but alright.

You’re drying your hair when someone knocks on your door, which surprises you. The usual routine for everyone in the team is a shower to wash out the filth that you witness and passing out in the queen-sized beds. You assumed they were doing the latter.

“Hi.”

Aaron Hotchner in a t-shirt is definitely something. Seeing him like this, you almost feel like you’re violating him even though he’s the one knocking on your hotel door at half past two in the morning.

“Hi, is there something wrong?”

His brows furrow. He looks anxious.

“Did I wake you up?”

“No, I just got out of the shower, was about to dry my hair and go to bed.” His gaze falls on the water stains forming on your shirt, your hair loose. It looks so soft. “Did you need something?”

“Uh, sort of. The Wi-Fi in my room isn’t working and I have to send in my report before we fly back tomorrow. I tried the reception but they can’t really do anything about it right now.”

“Oh! Of course, you can work from here if you want.”

“Are you sure it wouldn’t be a bother-”

“Hotch, get in here, of course it wouldn’t be a bother. You’re quite literally the most discreet the person in the world.”

He smiles at the praise. It’s a boyish sort of joy to know that you think so highly of him.

“Let me just grab my laptop.”

You watch as he briefly disappears in his room right across from yours and reappears with his laptop and a case file in hand. He stands awkwardly before you, waiting for you to invite him in again and you laugh at his insane need to always be so careful with his movements.

You step back and he understands, joining you inside the room.

“Give me a second to clear my things off the bed and you can get to work, okay?”

“I can just take the chair, it’s no big deal.”

“That’s actually even harder for me right now because all my clothes are on that chair. You can absolutely sit on the bed as long it’s not with outside clothes, because yuck.”

You both laugh and you think it’s because of your hyperbole but he’s laughing at the way your nose scrunches when you say it.

“I never wear my outside clothes to bed.”

“Of course you don’t.”

You make space for him in your bed that smells like laundry softener and you from the night before. It’s your body lotion. Violet.

He can’t help but think it’s a nice place to be.

“I’m just going to blow-dry my hair in the bathroom, hopefully that won’t make too much noise at this hour. Let me know if you need anything else.”

“Sure.”

You don’t think you’ve ever made this much eye contact with Hotch in a single day but tonight, he’s insistent on looking right in your eyes with every word he speaks. It’s odd, but not uncomfortable. You could certainly get used to it.

You only get a solid minute and a half of blow drying before you decide you can’t be certain that the walls prevent the sound from reaching other rooms. It’s a cruel thing to do at this hour, even though the only other person you know on this floor is your boss that’s currently sitting on your bed like a teenager doing homework.

“I’m done.”

He looks at you star-struck, something about the familiarity of this moment really getting to him. The two of you have never been like this before and he’s always felt a certain amount of regret over not being as close with you as the other members of the team have managed. That’s the curse of being a stone, he supposes. People will eventually treat you like one.

“I won’t take long; I just need to finish up the rest and send it.”

“Don’t worry, you can stay as much as you need.”

He glances at the bottle of melatonin on the nightstand.

“How come you’re not already dozing off?”

“I just wanted to relax a little before I did. Felt disgusting after today.”

He hums. Was it the heat? Was it the humidity? Was it the empty look inside the perp’s eyes when he was finally caught? Like there was no humanity there, nothing to see but cruelty. He won’t ask.

“Do you have trouble falling asleep?”

You also glance at the bottle, then at him. “Are you profiling me, Agent Hotchner?”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be inquisitive. I just thought you could fall asleep everywhere. Several long hours in the jet have proved so, at least.”

His attempt to lighten up the mood works and he’s thankful.

“I can, I just have trouble staying asleep once I do. Especially with all the changes in time zone; it really messes with me.”

He smiles at you so warmly. This is Aaron. Not Agent Hotchner, not even Hotch, just Aaron sitting on your hotel bed with his knee bumping into yours. “Like a pretty house plant.”

You smile back and try not to think too hard about the repercussions of him calling you pretty, even though he’s technically repeating another person’s words.

“Do you have trouble falling asleep?”

“I do sometimes… it can be tough.”

Aaron’s brown eyes are so soft under the dimmed lights.

“It really can be.”

The spell of eye contact breaks before it becomes too intense.

“Do you mind if I also sit here until you finish?”

His hand twitches at his side, begging to touch; to reassure you.

“Of course not. It’s your bed.”

“I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“You couldn’t.”

You watch some TV while he works away, often stealing glances at the way his hands move over the keyboard. They’re very nice to look at; all veins and rough skin. They suddenly stop and shut the laptop.

“I’m finished, so I can finally leave you to your rest. I’m really sorry for the intrusion.”

You sit up from your cozy spot, alarmed at the thought of his departure when you’re finally getting used to his presence here.

“I told you, there was no intrusion. I’m glad I was able to help.”

He smiles at you again, this time a little more reserved. It’s as if the bubble of intimacy has burst and now it’s all awkward again.

“I should leave so you can get some sleep.”

“Yeah.” You watch as he gets up and moves toward the door, “Although…”

The suggestion of something else following stops in him in his tracks.

“I don’t think I’m in the mood to sleep right now and I’d really just like some coffee.”

He moves again, turning to face you completely. Eye contact, again.

“I could actually go for some coffee. Breakfast doesn’t start being served for a few more hours though.”

You sigh, maybe it’s the sleep deprivation but it feels like neither of you wants to let go.

“Maybe we could head out? See if there’s any place open in the neighborhood?”

You watch as he glances at the door, then back at you. “Yeah. Yes, let’s do that.”

“Meet you in the hallway in five?”

“I’ll be there.”

-.-.-

The hotel is fairly close to the airport and you guess East Tampa is not the place to be for nightlife. The streets are empty save for the occasional passing car.

“Should we take the car?”

“We could do that, or…”

“Or?”

“We could explore the East Tampa wilderness by foot. I hear they recently got rid of the alligators.”

He laughs, “Will you ever tire of the Florida jokes?”

“Not ever, no.”

“Good, I like hearing them.”

East Tampa is more walkable than you expected.

“See, they even have tiny slivers of sidewalk! We might as well be in Paris.”

“Magical.” he hums, walking slightly behind you so you don’t bump into each other.

God forbid you cross that boundary while wandering around a foreign city with your coworker, alone, when it’s almost four am and you’re both wearing pajamas outside. God forbid.

You can feel him leading you through the streets despite being right behind you and neither of you really knowing where you’re heading. He guides you through his sturdy footsteps, the quiet breathing that finds and leaves your ear again with every step.

“We can try turning left here.”

You would trust him anywhere.

The moment you make the turn and make room for him beside you, a car practically zooms by. It makes you dizzy when he holds on to you immediately, pulling you toward him until you’re sure you’ve stepped all over his shoes. He looks so angry when you turn to him and for a moment, you think it might be at you.

“Going 50 in a 25? That guy’s going to get someone killed.”

“Yeah, I underestimated the traffic.”

“Are you okay?

“Sure, I am, it was just fast.”

“Take the sidewalk, I’ll walk on this side, alright?”

You don’t argue with him, there is no point.

“Thank you.”

At the end of the street, you can make out the joyous neon sign of a 7-Eleven.

“Ah! We’ve reached civilization!”

“Can you really call 7-Eleven that?”

“Barely.”

-.-.-

The coffee is so deliciously warm and even though the weather doesn’t call for it, it brings you comfort.

An employee is eyeing you suspiciously from the window while you seat on the pavement outside and you don’t know why. Your clothes are sleepwear, sure, but you’ve seen at least five people in the city strut around in nothing but jean shorts and flip-flops so is there really room for judgement here?

 Aaron discreetly scoots closer to you as if to be heard better but the street’s already incredibly quiet.

“This was a great idea, actually.”

You smile at him and keep sipping your coffee.

“We can go back to the hotel now if you want.”

“Are you tired?”

“No,” you see him tilt his head in doubt and you think the bags under your eyes might have reached your chin by now, “I mean, my body is, but my mind is right here with you.”

He smiles back at you in such a sweet way, it reaches his eyes.

“I don’t want to then.”

If you do, you have to go back to separate rooms and miss this opportunity for one perfect sunrise.

You move closer to him and he thinks you might tell him a secret, “Should we keep walking?”

“Walk toward where?”

Your shoulders relax.

“Do you have your map with you? We can walk until we reach the beach.”

His smile doesn’t falter a bit, “I think the nearest beach is like, an hour from here on foot.”

“That’s a lot. We can walk until we don’t feel like walking anymore then.”

“Another good idea.”

“I know you live in constant admiration of me but all this praise might just get to my head.”

He gets up first and puts out his hand for you to grab, “Oh, has it not already?”

When you take him up on his offer, his grasp is incredibly strong, yet tender. He pulls you up like it’s nothing but he’s careful not to hurt you in the process.

He doesn’t let go of your hand, drinks in the casual banter like the two of you might never speak again.

Your other hand is holding your coffee and you instinctively touch your forehead to his shoulder in protest for just a second, “I am a very down-to-earth person.”

The bare skin under his sleeve grows warm where you touched it.

“The most.”

He, still, doesn’t let go of your hand.

“How cruel of you to mock me when I’m dressed like this and haven’t slept.”

He laughs.

“I’m sure you mock me all the time with the team when I’m not listening.”

His tone hasn’t changed to indicate if he’s serious or not, but you feel very uncomfortable at the thought of him assuming that you and the squad might speak ill of him.

“I would never mock you, Hotch. I know we all poke fun at each other, but I admire you. Deeply.”

“I admire you too. Deeply.”

You walk side by side and your hand rests loosely clasped in his. He tells himself it’s to keep you safe and you let him guide you everywhere; anywhere. Nothing but trust there.

After a while, he stops and looks at you.

“I do really want to go to the beach.”

You laugh because the notion of Aaron Hotchner really wanting to do something seems so alien.

So far, you’ve assumed he’s just going along for the ride.

“I guess we could look for a cab?”

-.-.-

It’s almost dawn and there is no one here you can see. Just soft sand that will most definitely get everywhere inside your clothes and the sound of waves crashing softly when they reach the shore.

You’re looking at them, he’s looking at you.

The two of you sit closer now than ever before.

“It’s going to officially be morning soon.”

He instinctively turns to his wrist but his watch is back at the hotel discarded somewhere, so you reach for your phone and show him the time. It almost ruins the illusion of no time existing around you, but he won’t allow it. He will bend it to his will as he does with all else, just to stay here.

“We don’t have to be back until nine.”

The realization that he also doesn’t wish to leave makes you smile. That’s barely enough time to get properly dressed when you’re back at the hotel and then drive to the airport. It’s so unlike him.

‘I haven’t been at the beach in so long.”

You can picture him now, turning bright red under the sun and playing around with Jack.

“Do you not go with Jack?”

His lips pull downward and you immediately regret asking.

“We haven’t taken a vacation in so long.”

“I’m really sorry, I didn’t want to-”

“Don’t worry, you didn’t say anything wrong. We probably should take one soon.”

Your hand touches his, just a tiny bit, pinkies finding each other.

“You should take him to the beach.”

“Perhaps we’ll take you too.”

“Oh, I don’t know if my boss will allow that. I am indispensable to the team.”

“I’m sure we can work something out.”

You laugh and lie backwards when your back has finally had enough of all the crouching.

“That was actually my plan all along. I lured you here to get more vacation days.”

He watches you from above, entranced by the image of you splayed out on the sand. Your hair forms a halo around you and the sand seems golden when the first rays of sunlight finally find it. Your eyes do too, “I should have known.”

It feels awkward, sitting when you’re lying down, so he succumbs to the sand at last. You beam at him when he does, relishing in the way he’s come undone before you. You can really look at each other now, there’s no more pretending that the sea has your full attention. Shades of pink and orange in the sky, sea foam landing near your feet, but this is really all there is.

“Do you ever think of quitting the job?”

This really messes with him all of the sudden. You can see the change in the way his body tenses.

“Do you?”

“I asked first.”

He releases a deep breath and you can almost feel warm on your face, “Sometimes, but it’s the only thing I’m good at. I wouldn’t know what else to do.”

“That’s not true. You’re good at many things.”

He avoids your gaze and you know you’ve really struck a nerve here.

“Not good enough.”

“Now, that’s really not true. You’re brilliant at everything you do.”

He sits up, suddenly very aware of his vulnerability.

“Or I just give everything I have to this job and my bare minimum to everything else. Even Jack.”

“That’s not fair, Aaron. You’re a very good father to Jack and I know just how much he looks up at you. Even if it’s the bare minimum sometimes, your bare minimum is a lot more than other people can give at their best. It’s just hard to keep a balance.”

He feels your hand touch his back gently, asking for permission. The way he relaxes under your touch grants it and you move your thumb in circles as a soft caress. He turns to face you.

“Are you thinking of leaving?”

Your hand drops, shocked at the sudden change in his tone. He seems so full of emotion like this; all layers peeled away before you.

“Not decisively. They’re just thoughts,” Aaron seems unconvinced by your answer and your gaze falls downward in an attempt to escape the scrutiny, “I just don’t know if this is something I can do forever, so from time to time, I think about what else there might be out there. Maybe going private, opening up an office.”

“You want to be a therapist?”

“I am licensed.”

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

“Maybe. It definitely seems… easier.”

He doesn’t really know what to say. He knows it would be good for you, he knows this job will eat away at you until there’s very little left there. It’s what it did to him, but the thought of it happening to you seems much more unbearable.

“The team would miss you,” is such a typically professional thing of him to say, so the rest surprises you, “I would miss you.”

“I would miss you too.”

Tenderness, again. Now that he’s started, he doesn’t think he can stop.

“This has been one of the best days I’ve had in a while. I mean, being with Jack always makes me feel much better, but this… being like this with an adult-with you, it’s really nice.”

You smile and adjust your body to be closer to him.

“Really nice.”

From the corner of your eye, you can make out a convenience store in the distance that’s just now opening up.

“Would you allow me to treat you to some ice cream before we go?”

He stands up first, offering you his hand like before.

“I think you know me well enough to know that I won’t,” he stands up first and offers you his hand like before, “I am definitely buying.”

“Worth a try.”

There is sand all over his hair and shoulders. Being this relaxed, it suits him incredibly.

“Can I?”

He leans down and toward you, surrendering to the freedom of your touch when you pat off what sand you can see on him. All these hours of crossing boundaries and you’re still not entirely sure how you’ve gotten so comfortable with him, but he melts every time you touch him, as if experiencing gentleness for the very first time.

Might as well be the first time, he figures.

“You have some too in your hair.”

You turn around and he almost envelops you, although he’s hesitant in the beginning. Both his hands entangle themselves in your hair, those lovely hands, and softly separate and pat where needed. You always knew he hid softness underneath, just didn’t know it was there for you to enjoy.

You get your ice cream, gag when you taste just how much lemon zest they have put in the vanilla and he offers to exchange with his chocolate. Says he does it with Jack all the time and you gasp at the connotation.

“It is absolutely not childish to not like citrus fruits secretly involved in every dessert.”

He hums and smiles at you, bites and licks right where your own mouth was a moment ago. It puts thoughts in both of your heads.

You walk the entire way back and your feet definitely feel it, but you’re too focused on the feeling of impending separation. You will see each other again in half an hour but it just won’t be the same.

It might never be the same.

When you’re finally ready to part from each other in the hallway, he thinks about kissing you. Thinks you would taste like chocolate and waffle on his mouth, thinks a lot about the tiny bit of violet body lotion left on your neck that he can smell from this distance.

Would it really change that much? Is that the final line to cross after tonight?

He doesn’t have any answers, so he doesn’t.

“I’ll see you in a bit.”

“See you in a bit, Aaron.”

He’s going to cling on your use of his first name for a while, although when you’re back in the jet, it’s as if nothing happened. Now clad in his usual attire, he’s regular Hotch; prim and proper, sat upright with crossed arms in his seat in the only way he knows how to rest in front of others.

Yet, you know. You see Aaron in the gentle shutting of his eyes, the tiny remnants of sand in his hair.

Something has changed.

part two

[lonesomedovescry]

gnawing at the bars of my enclosure thinking about arthur and his musician sweetheart who after he disappears and gets lost in guam, isn’t able to find the gang and eventually runs away to join a bluegrass band.

she sings and fiddles across saloons of the country in a desperate attempt to fill the void left by a broad-shouldered outlaw who held her heart on the palm of his calloused hand. months are spent sleeping in the back of a wagon and counting the stars and trying to remember the scent of him and the scratch of his facial hair on her skin.

arthur who finally finds the gang and asks desperately where she’s at and when no one can give an answer, feels like he might die from heartache. after running once again from the pinkerton’s he finds himself growing restless. in the chaos of the heist, she had managed to slip between the cracks, and there wasn’t a word nor holler about where she could be.

her voice, both singing and speaking, haunts his dreams. he wakes up aching with longing and grunting his curses. every night is cold and empty despite the suffocating heat of the swamps. hope was beginning to leech from his skin.

it wasn’t until he fell victim to nostalgia and decided to return to valentine on a whim that the shadows began to clear. he had just paid for a night at the inn when he heard the most haunting, peculiar sound. he stiffened as he took his room key from the clerk.

her voice was floating through the air outside. when he forced open the entrance door and stumbled down the stairs, he felt his heart galloping in his chest. her voice was louder now and much more clear. there was no mistaking the siren call.

stupidly, hopelessly, he began to run towards the saloon. sweat dampened his palms, his face. his throat ached with sorrow. he stomped up the steps and pushed his way through the swinging doors of the saloon.

and there she was.

a drunken crowd had gathered around where she stood on the bar in a cream colored dress that he knew all too well — a dress he had dreamed off sliding his hands beneath and shelling it off of her. a dress that he knew on the inner wrist of her right arm, his initials had been embroidered in green thread.

she was singing as loud as she could, her face thinner than he remembered and less colored. the other parts of the band were strewn around her and took part in the chorus of a song arthur did not know. he was rooted in place and struck by how long her hair had gotten and how her eyes looked when they finally came upon him.

they widened and sparked with a familiar light and it was if someone had lit a dusted hearth. her voice crescendoed and as quick as a whip she brought her fiddle to her shoulder to finish the last notes or the song.

when the music stopped, arthur’s heart started again as he finally forced his way through the cheering crowd and lifted his arms towards her.

“oh, Arthur.” she said, voice breaking, and threw herself into his arms.

the surrounding cheers were drowned out by the sounds of her crying into his shoulder, the scent of her hair, and arthur felt like crumbling beneath the weight of his emotion.

he had found her, and she had found him, and in the siren call he found the blood of his heart.