#imagine he showed up to the elves like that

[calamityjimao3]

Writing Advice 7-Don't fill in the blanks

Ever watch a horror movie and get down to the end and then BAM the monster is on screen for the first time and now we’re all feeling let down? Well this is an elementary writing error that artsy people like to forget because they make story telling about their vision, not the collective experience. Don’t show the monster. This is something I learned in a high school English class. We read the Pit and the Pendulum by Edgar Allen Poe and, spoiler alert for a story that is over 100 years old, we never find out what was in the pit. We are told that it is horrible, the most horrible thing we can think of, and we are left with that. Now my teacher went around and had us write down what we thought was in the pit, quietly and without collaboration, and we passed our guesses to him and he went and read through them aloud. One person thought it was a pit of snakes. Someone else thought it was a pit of lava. The guy who freaked the teacher out the most thought it was a rotating cheese grater. So the point? We all wrote down the thing that scared us the most. Poe’s story was fuelled by our imagination and our fears and that is where he really reached the audience. He let us build the setting and never said we were wrong, allowing the entire audience to take the journey. So when you set up a hidden monster in a horror movie and you show it, you are popping that bubble. I know what a monster that scares me would look like and it doesn’t look like that, so I’m not scared anymore and I am a little bummed by that. Now, this ALSO applies to other situations in stories. The monster is just the easiest one because if you are a horror fan you’ve had it happen. Another place you see where this is super common is character descriptions. Fanfiction this is a little less of a big deal because a lot of times you are borrowing characters that are already defined, but this is important for original characters. You don’t need to describe them. That isn’t saying you always shouldn’t, far from it, but it really depends on the why. You can use character descriptions to tell you more about the environment they are from, the culture they are from, the class and position they hold, etc. I like to be blunt about certain aspects of character description when I am explicitly representing a minority so people can’t whitewash my story or make everyone heteronormative.  But this is where it gets interesting. You can skimp on details. Let’s look at our good boy Tolkien and what we know about Legolas. Yes yes, he has long blond hair and blue eyes and pointy ears because that’s what Peter Jackson put in the movie so that must be true. Wrong. Tolkien gives us next to no physical details on Legolas. We know he’s an elf and that’s it. We don’t even know if elves have pointy ears. Tolkien never says. Without Jackson getting in there and mucking about everyone would have had a very individual and specific image as to what an elf, especially what Legolas specifically, looked like. We do have characterization. Legolas is silly and a little sassy, so it isn’t like we don’t know him. He’s not a mystery. We just don’t know what he looks like. And that is very intentional. It makes the character way more relatable and interesting. If I have an image of what Elf means to me I am going to slap it on Legolas so fast. Maybe I think he should have brown hair because he grew up amongst the forest elves and maybe it should be short so it doesn’t snag on trees (I am not getting into LOTR vs ROP lore lol). Maybe I like the character and have a bit of a crush on Legolas, so I insert my crush into this Legolas shaped hole in the story. Not saying Tolkien never described his characters but he refrained enough to really bring the audience along on the journey. When he did get specific he was doing so with the intention of creating a vibe or letting everyone else know his wife was the most beautiful person to have ever existed. 

So if you really want to have your audience create the world with you, give them hints, not descriptions. Sure, maybe she’s in rumpled clothes with frizzy hair. You don’t need to tell us hair color, or whether or not it is curly or just bushy. Maybe she is the most beautiful person in all the land, with her skin that positively glowed and her hair styled carefully. If you start getting into facial features you start describing what you think is beautiful or what the land thinks is beautiful, which is definitely going to be different than some readers. There is a tumblr post floating around how if snow white had red lips and pale skin and dark black hair she’d look like a vampire, despite that always being the way she’s described.

I think the best philosophical understanding of this is the taoist concept of the uncarved block. When you have a sculpting block that is untouched it has the possibility of being anything, but the moment you start cutting into it you start limiting what it could be. Descriptions are like that.

Of course you can’t abandon them completely. They are still important. I definitely need to know if your character has fangs that everyone can see. And there are going to be characters that as an author need to be described in full detail because that is so much of who they are. But skimping is not only fine but, when done deliberately, can really improve the relationship between the audience and the story. You just need to know that the mechanic exists and whether or not you want to lean into it.

So, this might be as clear as mud but I hoped I got the gist communicated.

[someeragonmemes]

Love that Eldest opens with “the songs of the dead are the lamentations of the living” like straight off the bat Eragon was in his emo phase and I love that for him

[synonymroll648]

headcanon that as sophie ages, she gets more and more off-put by how she still looks twenty at some age past 40. the only wrinkles she has are smile lines and a barely-there crease between her eyebrows that never leaves. no gray hairs. it doesn’t feel like there’s any physical evidence of how much stress aged her too fast.

(maybe she dyes more grays into her hair to feel better about her reflection, the more time passes by. maybe, on bad days, she contours wrinkles into her skin with makeup. maybe the bad days get more frequent as she ages outside the human lifespan. maybe.)

[sesamenom]

Ar-Pharazon from the Reverse Gondolin AU and as Witch-King of Numenor - thanks to @who-needs-words for helping develop this idea!

[monstersholygrail]

The Mist Switch

Male Fairy x Elf fem!reader— aphrodisiac mist, dub con, nipple play, bondage (vines), clit play, tentacle penetration (vines again), voyeurism

As Elves, neither you nor your elf friend you were secretly crushing on knew just how long your prank war had been going on for. You had started it, of course, after chickening out of your attempt to kiss him and instead pushed his face into a pie.

Ever since then you two had been pranking each other every now and then whenever the mood strikes. The last prank was done by you when you put meat in his trousers and got a beast to chase him around for a bit.

Now was his time to prank you back. He had it all planned. He hired a little fairy to spray you with a magical mist that for 24 hours would turn you into the size of a fairy. Oh he’d torture you until you cracked and finally confessed your love for him.

Could he just admit he loved you too? Yes. Would he? Not when this option was so much more fun.

The little fairy flew and flew until he found you frolicking in a nearby meadow. You looked so beautiful, your soft curves glimmering in the sunlight. As he flew closer he couldn’t stop himself from imagining the way he’d suck on your hard nipples, bringing you to release from that one touch alone. Before he’d move down and stuff his face against your entrance just so he can taste how sweet you are straight from the source.

His mind was hazy with lust as he reaches you, his eyes unfocused on anything beside your gorgeous plump body. Blindly reaching into his bag of magic he sprays some mist in your face at the same time you spot him.

“What just happened?!” You ask in alarm, looking at the unknown fairy who’s staring at you like he wants to devour you.

A warm buzz begins to flood through your body. Making you tingly and aroused. Your eyes widen as you rub your thighs together for some friction. Your pussy gushing with arousal.

“W-what did you do? Who are you?” You ask breathlessly, wanting nothing more than to take this strange fairy suffocate him with your pussy.

The fairy looks at you in shock over your reaction, having no idea what went wrong. You’re not shrinking at all! He looks down at his hand and only now notices he sprayed you with the aphrodisiac mist instead of the shrinking mist! His cheeks burn red from embarrassment.

“I-I was hired to prank you with a shrinking mist but it seems as though they got mixed up,” he explains bashfully, showing you the bottle.

You internally curse your friend for hiring such a dumb fairy but also god do you wish he was here to take care of you. Your eyes fall back on the fairy… the incredibly sexy fairy. Fuck, you just needed something to ease the fire burning hot inside you and soaking your panties.

“Well you caused this so you need to take care of it. Now!” You say with a huff.

You lay in the bed of flowers, throwing your robes off recklessly. Not caring about anything other than this fairy getting you off. The fairy looks down at you in awe, all his recent fantasies coming true. He wonders if he subconsciously did this on purpose just so he could fuck you, but he wouldn’t think about that right now. Not when you need him so badly.

The fairy’s wings flutter and he’s flying down on top of you before you can change your mind. Not that you would with your need so unbearable. He lands on your soft belly and he could just melt into you, your skin is so warm and lovely. You hiss the moment he touches you, you’re so sensitive you could cum just from his little body grinding onto you.

Using his strength he picks up your breast and opens his mouth wide to suck on your hard nipples just as he imagined. You moan loudly, hips jerking in the air. The little fairy holds on tight and sucks greedily on the bud, basking in the way you writhe against the grass.

“P-please! I need more,” you beg, your mind lost to the lust that rages through you.

The fairy releases your nipple with a loud pop. He flies down to your glistening cunt, your folds all lovely and wet and waiting for him. His cock tents in his small pants, getting harder and harder the longer he touches you. Using his body he spreads your fat lips and you moan, trying to rock closer to him. He cries out, holding onto you so he doesn’t fall off.

With a bit of his own magic he commands vines close by to wrap around your arms and legs, tying you firmly you to the ground. You gasp and squirm against them, their rough caress only turning you on even more.

The fairy pulls down his pants and lines his aching cock up against your clit. He grinds into you and you both release long ragged moans. His own mind begins to cloud over and all he can focus on is giving you both the pleasure you need so bad.

Your body twitches and shakes with deep pressure of the fairy’s cock rubbing your clit so nicely. You can feel his hips snap against your core, short grunts leave you every time his balls slap against your over sensitive clit. The vines stopping you from moving with him or moving away from the unrelenting pleasure.

Yet you still have a deep rooted need to be filled to the brim and you throw your head back, the fire inside you only getting hotter without your release. Sensing what you need, the fairy uses more of his magic and a second later you jump as long thick vines slide deep inside your hot wet cunt.

The fairy and his vines work in tandem to bring you higher and higher. The fairy digs his fingers into your wide waist and ruts into you like a madman, wildly desperate to feel you come undone because of him. All while his vines plunge deep into your depths, brushing along your gummy walls and hitting you just right.

You cum with a fierce scream that echoes throughout the meadow. The fairy releases soon after you, his hot cum jolting outward and spraying all over your delicious belly.

The fairy sags against you, completely spent. The two of you lay there, your limbs still tied to the ground as you both shake with the force of your release. You can feel the heat inside you start to settle a little yet it’s still there, just waiting to ignite.

The sudden sound of a branch snapping in the distance has your head jerking up in surprise. You come face-to-face with your elf friend, a smug smirk on his lips. He crosses his arms and leans against a nearby tree. Looking up and down your plump form you can see his own eyes cloud over with lust.

“Well, well, well. What do we have here?” He asks, pushing off the tree and heading toward you both.

[meo-eiru]

The thought just occurred to me but, if Elves like Silas evolved to have bodily fluids with healing properties (and implied to consider it normal to regularly imbibe them) then... Is. Is Silas's barely covered ass, legs, and bared tits the normal attire for them? And that's attire for outside? Does Silas even wear clothes indoors? Does he force his darling to adapt to his normal dresscode when he first brings then back? I have a desperate need to know.

Yeah his attire gives you easy access to all his body parts you might need for whatever reason!

There are of course differences in how individual elves dress, it kinda depends on their personality and which body parts they like showing off or don’t, but the type of fabric and gold they use are mostly the same.

(Also the fabric in his attire is a bit see through so he doesn’t really leave much to your imagination👀)

He does still wear clothes indoors if you can count his current state not mostly naked. He bas a few different outfits but they all mostly look similar. Elves are already pretty enough and to them clothes are more like an accessory than a necessity.

He wouldn’t force you to dress like an elf! He does sometimes feel curious about your bodily fluids. If he gets sick and is feeling particularly weak he might cry and sob for you to let him drink some of your blood or cum no matter how many times you tell him yours doesn’t work like that. He just wants to try, have a little taste :( He won’t know until he tries right?

But since he’s into human culture he finds it more adorable when you are wearing normal clothes. He might sometimes come home with new clothes for you but unfortunately he won’t tell you where the hell he got them from no matter how many times you ask. Less questions and more playing dress up quick!

[pollyanna-nana]

Imagine you’re Delgal. Imagine you were raised from birth alongside the court jester. You do everything together. You look up to him, being so much older. He seems wise and responsible, and always encouraging you and caring for you, more than your own busy parents are able to. In every sense of the word, he is your brother, despite how different you look and the distance of your station. The people around you tell you that he is an elf, the tone of their voice implying that’s something scary or even dangerous. But you disagree. That’s Thistle, your big brother.

But… as you age, things become confusing. You get taller, smarter, stronger, and Thistle is there for you through it all. Only… he never seems to change. In your entire journey to adulthood, he hardly seems to have aged a few years, if that. It’s amusing when you first grow taller than him, then grow facial hair, while Thistle’s short stature and youthful face remains the same. Still, you love him, love his music and his wit and even the bold-faced honesty that gets him in trouble if you’re not around to diffuse the situation. You wonder why such a person has been relegated to the inglorious job of jester, and your father tells you very simply that the magic elves wield is too powerful and dangerous to belong to any other position. But you think that’s nonsense, you’ve trusted Thistle from the day you were born and would do so until the day you die.

It isn’t until what should’ve been the happiest day of your life that you truly start to understand just how different Thistle is from you. Kneeling over your father’s cooling corpse, you take in the elf’s panicked face. He’s so young, so unchanged, and in that moment he seems nearly immortal to you. You’ve heard the stories of elf magic, how their spells could be used to heal wounds and raise the dead, but Thistle can’t do any of that. He hasn’t been allowed to. There’s nothing that either of you can do but watch your father slowly die in front of you.

You never want this to happen again, not when there’s something that can stop it. You make Thistle the court sorcerer, even as your advisors warn against it. But you’re the king, goddamn it, and you trust him. But more than that, you want what he can give to you. A power greater than any tallman could achieve. You become busier and busier, only checking up occasionally on his studies. He’s become incredibly proficient in a short amount of time, but your thoughts are elsewhere. Enemies knock on your door, famine chokes the population, and worst of all your beloved son has fallen ill. It’s just like the day of your wedding, but this time, you have something that can defy that fate. Thistle.

But still, it’s not enough. It seems that even elf magic has its limits, and you can’t help but become angry with him. He reacts like a scorned child— is a scorned child, as you’ve come to realize— and you apologize. But he tells you he has something secret to show you, something he’s been searching for, researching for these past few years. The idea unsettles you, but you’ve become desperate, and you can see that he has, too. So you follow him into the dungeon, watch him smash the statue of your kingdom’s guardian and pull the book from the rubble that would decide your and your people’s fate.

Your son is healed, your enemies repelled, and your people fed and taken care of. You’re happy, and so Thistle is, too. You recognize, vaguely, that despite this achievement the familial bonds between the two of you have never been thinner. But you don’t dwell on it. He did what you needed him to do, and now you no longer had to fear the indignity of death or strife.

But of course, things do not remain sweet forever. Thistle has only grown more attached to you, more loyal, and his behavior has become erratic and strange. He keeps you all cooped up in the dungeon, insisting that the outside world is too dangerous. There’s a hardness to his still-youthful features that you never saw throughout all those years growing up alongside him. Slowly but surely the person in your memory is replaced by something frightening, almost repulsive, after he strips your own son’s soul from his body. He seems so unaffected by it all, so… inhuman.

Eventually he decides to give you what you said you wanted all those years ago: to no longer fear death. To become immortal. But it is not what you had hoped for— every day seems to drag into infinity, with joy and mirth seeping rapidly from the unsettled townsfolk as decades, then centuries pass. Thistle has become entirely unapproachable, spending all his time fortifying the dungeon and watching obsessively for any signs of traitors that might challenge the throne. You feel hopeless in it all. No matter how you beg, he never seems to hear you. His power is overwhelming and you fear how he might react to more direct commands. The guilt is intense… you know you pushed him into this, pushed him to find a way to achieve everlasting peace at any cost. But this cost is too much. How could he not see that?

1000 years. 1000 years of this torture, and the population of your kingdom has dwindled to almost nothing. In your dreams you see the vision of a golden lion in chains, its wings pinned as it pleads with you to save it. To save your kingdom, to put the remaining souls to rest. You know what needs to be done, it’s told you the best way. You tell the mad mage that you wish to have dinner together with the whole ‘family’— just like the olden days— and the way his face lights up is almost enough to make you reconsider. Almost.

It was a lie, of course. While he’s distracted you take your son’s empty body, making your way to the surface as fast as your legs can carry you. You know what’s about to happen. You’ll become nothing but dust, but you’ll be free. And with any luck, soon everyone else will be, too. Breaching the surface you get the first rays of sun on your face in a millennium, take your last breaths of fresh air as you tell the story that will free your kingdom.

As you crumble away to nothing, a last thought enters your mind. Perhaps they were all right. Perhaps it was a mistake to trust an elf.

[live-laugh-legolas]

I really love your headcannons! Thanks for them! what do you think it's like to cuddle with a fellowship and how tactile they are in general, I would be grateful if it was in a romantic way, but if it's not difficult (if possible, then Gandalf should be too)

Cuddling with the fellowship

Aragorn:

-He often has his hands on you in some way

-Either in your shoulder, waist, back, or holding your hand

-But he isn’t the biggest cuddler despite being a touchy guy

-I think he worries he won’t be able to get up fast enough to protect you

-However he does sleep best when you are wrapped up in his arms

-He likes to lay his head in your lap

-Or with your head on his chest

-He subconsciously gives little massages while cuddling

-Does the thumb rub thing

Legolas:

-Once he figures out cuddling and physical affection he will always initiate it

-He will always come up and hug you from behind

-He finds comfort in it that he didn’t expect since elves aren’t really physically affectionate

-He likes to be big spoon and will hold your hand while you are wrapped safely in his arms

-He burrows his face into your hair or between your shoulder blades

-Sometimes he so close that he snores because his nose is pressed against your back (listen Ik elves don’t really sleep or whatever but let me have this)

-He will give you top of the head kisses randomly while you lay on his chest

-Just in general he does this; walking past you, you get a head kiss

-Pippin asks for one too; he says he feels left out

Gimli:

-Big time cuddler

-Dwarves are pretty big on physical touch

-Maybe cuddling isn’t necessary seen as platonic to dwarves; but wanting to be close in general can be

-However with a significant other this man is the biggest teddy bear

-He likes to face you when cuddling so he can see your pretty face

-Your very own personal heater/fur blanket

-Side note but maybe this is why Legolas likes him so much. I mean Legolas is kinda cat like and cats gravitate towards the warmest people to lay on

-Anyway

-He gets “grumpy” if you won’t cuddle with him

-Will pout until you give in despite being absolutely covered in dirt and you wanted to shower first

Boromir:

-He’s a little awkward about physical touch at first

-He’s a bit touch starved

-I can’t help but picture him as Arthur from the show Merlin in this scene

-It’s not so much that he doesn’t understand gentle physical touch; he is a gentle man; but he doesn’t experience it much so it’s a little foreign to him

-But once he is comfortable with you he will branch out and try initiating cuddles

-Will copy the way you initiate cuddles or any physical touch

-This man is lovely to cuddle btw

-You always feel very safe with him and he makes for a good pillow

-I headcanon that he has great tits; perfect chest to bury your face in

-He also talks a lot while cuddling; like he is just so happy to be with you that his giddiness comes out in random rambles

Frodo:

-He’s a nuzzler

-He does the little head rub on whatever he is using as a pillow when he first settles down

-Kinda like a dog spinning in circles before laying down

-If you fall asleep cuddled up just know that you will not wake up that way

-Someone is on the floor or you’ve swapped sides of the bed

-It looks like you guys were catapulted into the bed and that’s just how you landed

-Nose kisses

Sam:

-He loves to have “cuddle talks”

-Telling you about his day while you fiddle with his hair

-He’s a very intimate cuddler; likes to look into your eyes and profess his love as if it’s the first time even though he just did it yesterday too

-Not big on PDA though

-Cuddles are personal and private

-He’s not embarrassed or anything; it just feels like something too intimate for public eyes

Merry:

-He likes cuddling but in moderation

-I imagine he could get a bit claustrophobic

-Not that he doesn’t enjoy your cuddles; he just gets overwhelmed with smothering ones sometimes

-Doesn’t like being little spoon for this reason (same tho)

-I think one of his favorite positions to cuddle is with one of you sitting with your back against the others chest

-He does not care if he can’t see past you, he’s your backrest and he takes that job very seriously

Pippin:

-The biggest cuddle bug

-He is always touching someone; bumping shoulders, invading personal space, etc

-He finds comfort in being close to others and he’s not afraid to let it be known

-Spontaneous cuddle attacks

-Lots of giggles and nose boops

-If you are in bed he will “Dutch oven” you

-Gross ik

-However when his energy is worn for the day and he has gotten his playful cuddles out of the way he is the perfect teddy bear

-I mean seriously hobbits are the perfect little spoon size

-In those moments he does just enjoy the quiet and listening to your breathing as you fall asleep

Gandalf:

-Not big on cuddling

-More of the type to sit/lay where you are touching in some way but not engulfed with each other

-Maybe sitting across from eachother with your legs intertwined

-He does give the best hugs though

[thesummerestsolstice]

I like the idea that the Valar can grant boons to men or elves they favor. Sometimes visible– glowing markings, feathers, claws– and sometimes not. Attitudes of these blessings ranged from fear to reverence to jealousy, often reflecting opinions of the Valar more generally.

Galadriel's special treelight hair came from Finarfin. Finarfin got it as a result of Manwe's favor. Given how rare it was for Manwe to bestow such gifts, this caused quite a stir. Later, Morgoth would spread rumors that Manwe was trying to set Finarfin up as the new Noldor crown prince, bypassing Finwe's older children.

Namo gave Fingolfin a blessing, and no one was particularly sure why, Fingolfin included. The truth was that Namo had already foreseen Fingolfin's death, and wanted to give him the strength to let him wound Morgoth before falling to him. Namo has always felt a sense of responsibility for those who choose to come to his halls, even if he's powerless to change their fates.

Celegorm was blessed by Orome, given the kind of teeth and claws that a few of his best disciples had been granted over the years. Orome couldn't take those gifts back, so Celegorm kept them for all his life. You wouldn't know that looking at paintings of him, though, because none of them show him with the marks of Orome's hunt. Whether this was a choice made by him or by later revisionists trying to minimize his connection with the Valar is unknown.

Varda gave blessings to both Earendil and Gil-Galad in the final years of the First Age. Both of them are said to have shone like stars afterwards, and there were some darker rumors that like the hallowed Silmarils, they would burn any unholy flesh that touched them. Some speculated that the blessings were Varda's way of apologizing for leaving the elves to face Morgoth alone for so long.

Ulmo is probably the Vala who's given out the most blessings– Cirdan, Turgon, Finrod, and Tuor all recieved boons from him, among others. But everyone who's gotten blessings from Ulmo is weirdly secretive about it. There's lots of gossip floating around– Ulmo is the reason Cirdan has a beard, Ulmo is the reason Turgon is taller than Maedhros, Ulmo is the reason that everyone likes Finrod so much, actually everyone blessed by Ulmo gets gills and he has secret underwater meetings with them– you get the idea. Well, probably no reason to consider that last one. I can't imagine any of the Valar using their power for something that foolish.

There is fierce scholarly debate on whether Thingol received a blessing from Melian, and whether her descendants could, theoretically, do the same. Elrond would like everyone to please stop asking him about it. Elrond would also like everyone to please stop talking about Gil-Galad's hair turning silver after the two of them took a very normal hunting trip together.

(Multiple Valar have tried to take credit for just how amazingly luscious and wonderful Finwe's hair is. But no, that wasn't a blessing. He's just like that.)

[magpiepills]

Stocking Stuffer

Rating: EXPLICIT 18+ MDNI

Pairing: Santa Joel x f! Elf Reader

Word count: 1.5k

Summary: Santa Joel at the North Pole in his workshop late at night, gone off the eggnog and that one elf in her little candy stripe tights keeps bending over and her can see her little elf pussy through them and he decides to show her the North Pole.

Warnings: SMUT! PIV, oral f and m receiving, big dick Joel, one use of “daddy,” Christmas puns, crack fic but it’s filthy. No beta, no proofreading, no editing. Merry Christmas, you filthy animals.

A word from the author: I kind of hate Christmas. I do not enjoy this time of year, I am not festive, so this is the most Holiday fic you’ll get from me. Sorry! Blame @umnitsa

masterlist

🎅🏻🎅🏻🎅🏻🎅🏻🎅🏻🎅🏻🎅🏻🎅🏻🎅🏻🎅🏻🎅🏻🎅🏻🎅🏻🎅🏻🎅🏻🎅🏻🎅🏻🎅🏻🎅🏻

A frigid wind sweeps across the snow-blanketed landscape. Late at night, under a full and heavy moon, a cottage is nestled amongst a copse of gently swaying pine trees. The warm scent of ginger, nutmeg, cinnamon and clove perfume the air, and candlelight glows from the frosty windows.

Inside, in his plush chair, sits Santa Joel. He has spent the evening making his list and checking it twice, sipping eggnog as the hours pass, and his jolly buzz has settled into a thrum in his loins. As he worked, he watched his elves scurrying about, hammering and painting and putting the finishing touches on the toys he would deliver in a week.

All of Santa Joel’s elves worked merrily, singing as they crafted trains and dolls, but one elf had caught his eye and he couldn’t help but watch her. He tried not to stare at you as you polished the baseball bats you were working on, unaware of the most inappropriate thoughts that Santa Joel was having. It stirred something very naughty in his red velvet pants.

When the other elves left for the night, scampering off to tuck into their little beds, you stayed to work. His good little elf. Such a hard worker. He watched your tits bounce under your forest green smock as you applied more varnish to a bat, and licked his lips.

Reaching deep into the enormous toy box for another unfinished bat, your skirt rode up and your feet barely touched the ground. Joel watched as you struggled, each movement exposing more of your round little ass snug in your candy striped tights.

Quietly, Joel moved closer, stroking his not-quite snowy beard in lustful anticipation as he hoped for a better look as your delectable body. Once he was close enough to touch you he could see clear through your tights, the thin red and white stretchy fabric revealing your bare pussy underneath.

You wriggled and the seam of your tights wedged further between the lips of your pretty cunt. He imagined how sweet it must taste, like sugar plums and marshmallows and peppermint.

You hadn’t heard Joel come over, and you were shocked when you felt his thick finger trace over your most sensitive place.

“Shhh. Just me, sweetheart. Just Santa. Looks like you’re in a tight spot. I came to help.”

You were grateful it was just Joel, Santa Joel was always so good to you, always a kind work and a smile, bringing you hot cocoa to your work station, offering you rides in his sleigh. Truth be told, you had a crush on him, but he was your boss. Your married boss. There’s no way your silly little elf fantasy could be anything more than that.

Surely he didn’t mean to touch you there. He was just trying to help and…

You reasoned with yourself until you felt it again. Another touch, his thumb sliding up and down your slit, pushing the fabric of your tights in, exaggerating the outline of your pussy.

“Looks like you have more problems than just bein’ stuck. For one thing, I’m pretty sure this uniform came with panties and you’re not wearin’ em. And for another, the last elf bus back to the elf barracks left an hour ago while you were in my workshop trying to catch up. Now how do we solve this problem?”

The tips of your pointed ears felt hot. You couldn’t believe Santa Joel was actually speaking to you this way, touching you the way he was. Emboldened, you wiggled yous ass, seeking his touch.

You heard his deep, jolly laugh, then felt the stinging slap of his big hand across your ass. You moaned and he laughed again.

“Santa, please! Let me make it up to you.”

He spanked you again, enjoying the way your ass jiggled in your tights.

“You’re going to have to be real good if you want to get back in the nice list, darlin.”

Santa Joel lifted you from the toy box and held you close to his body, he was broader and firmer than his red suit let on, and he smelled of cranberry and pine.

He carried you to his sleigh, parked beside a roaring fire, gleaming in the firelight, the freshly polished, ornately carved mahogany was the size of a small suv, laden with bags of logs ahead of Christmas.

The bench inside was plush, and a thick blanket was draped over the seat. Joel lad you across it and peeled your tights down, holding your ankles in either hand, spreading you wide to take a long, lecherous look at your glistening, dripping pussy.

He fell to his knees on the floor of his sleigh with a pained groan and a mutter before throwing your legs over his shoulders and kissing your soft, slick folds sloppily.

“Fuck, Santa,” you whined, lifting your hips toward his mouth. He teased you, licking, sucking, nibbling lightly at your puffy lips.

As he tasted your sweet little cunt, he reached into his pants to tug at his turgid member. Joel wasn’t as young as he used to be. He knew time wasn’t on his side and he needed to be inside you like he needed a glass of milk after a plate of cookies.

“Fuck me, Santa Joel,” you begged him breathily, smock pushed up over your tits so you could swirl your fingertips over your nipples. “Fill up my little stocking. You know you want to. Give it to me, Father Christmas. Or should I call you daddy?”

Your voice was breathy and teasing, something Joel couldn’t resist. He stood and unbuckled his wide black belt, letting it drop along with his red velvet pants as his shirt hung open. There, swinging between his firm thighs, was the most magnificent North Pole you’d ever seen.

You sat up in awe, mouth agape and brought your hand to wrap around his cock. Your fingers just barely touched, the girth was so great, and two hands were needed to hold his full length. You stroked him, and stuck out your tongue to taste his beading precum.

“Suck it,” Santa Joel told you, his hand on your cheek, patting it gently until you opened wide and took all you could. You wetted his cock with your saliva, humming in pleasure at the taste, musky and nice, salty but sweet.

He pulled away abruptly, leaving you pouting and hungry for more.

“Gonna give you somethin’ real good, don’t worry.” He flipped you over, lifting your hips how he wanted, face down, ass up, knees knocked wide to take him.

He dragged the thick head over your silky wet cunt, slicking himself before pushing into your tight little hole. He didn’t believe it when he fit his cock head inside, he held it there a moment before pulling it back out, ignoring your please for him to just give it to you.

“I can take it, Santa, please. Fuck me. I know Mrs Clause never lets you fuck her like this. Does she suck your cock in the sleigh? Does she have a little pussy like this?” You goaded him until he relented, filling you in one thrust, silencing you with one motion.

“That what you wanted? Wanted this big dick to light you up like a Christmas tree? His hips slapped against yours with each thrust, and you knew no ordinary elf dick would ever satisfy you again. Santa Joel stretched and filled you, reached spots that no one had ever reached before. He pumped into you and your slick dripped down his heavy balls, teeming with cum that he felt an animalistic urge to fill you with.

“Rub your clit for me. I want to feel you come on my cock.”

You reached between your legs and swirled your fingers over your pussy. Joel was so thick inside you, so perfectly deep, your clit needed only the lightest touch to send you into a shaking orgasm, crying his name.

With your body tensing and relaxing as you rode out the aftershocks of your release, Joel set his sights on his own. He pummeled your pussy, balls slapping against you, his hands holding your hips tight. He reached under you and pulled you upward to hold you against his chest, using you as a merry little cocksleeve with your tits bouncing in his hands.

Santa Joel groaned and gasped as his thick cum burst into you. “Ho!” He grunted, “Ho! Ho!” He fucked it deep and felt it dripping out around his slowly softening cock.

When you were cleaned up as best you could be, he draped his soft, fur trimmed coat around your shoulders and pulled you onto his lap. He poured himself a glass of whiskey and while you relaxed, and listened to the crackling of the fire, Joel looked at you with affection.

“What do you want for Christmas?” He asked in his deep, raspy voice.

You nuzzled his neck and kissed the warm skin there.

“I want to do that again.”

If you made it all the way, here are your whistle and your crown.

[mattyriddlesbitch]

matty + ravenclaw reader 🙏🏻

(a little bit of smut if you want

I love this because I'm a Ravenclaw and am in love with Matty, so I got you!

I think Mattheo is actually really smart, like could get straight As type, but doesn't apply himself, so he wasn't too thrilled when McGonagall told him he needed to get a tutor and she already assigned him one. Which was obviously you.

He'd seen you around, thought you were pretty, but he never really talked to you. He thought you'd be some type of annoying know-it-all.

So imagine his surprise when you had your first tutoring session and you were actually pretty chill. He didn't actually need to be tutored, he knew that, but you didn't and kept trying to get his focus back on the work while he was trying to distract you the whole time, either with jokes or asking questions about yourself. He loved when you got annoyed at him and tried to get him back on track.

That's how all study sessions went. About a few minutes of studying and then he was trying to get you off topic. He actually did want to get to know you. You were so pretty and smart and witty and pretty. That's what he thought. Even when he was quiet and not trying to distract you, he was staring at you, whether you were talking or not.

I will always stand by this, he is almost stalkerish when he likes a girl, trying to find out everything about her, befriending her friends. You're no different. He's trying to catch you out of classes, trying to catch you in the library, or even in the halls between classes.

Will 100% annoy you when you're trying to study in the library if he finds you there. He'll sit down with you and try to get your attention, taking your books or notes. Loves your glares.

After a few months of study sessions, he tells you he doesn't need them. You think he's lying, his grades haven't improved. He makes a bet that if he can get 100% on his next test, he gets to take you out. You roll your eyes but agree. Just imagine the smug face he makes when he comes up to you the following week with perfect marks on his test.

And he takes you on such a nice date. He may love annoying you and playing around with you, but he actually wanted to impress you, show you he can be a decent guy. He finds out from your friends what your perfect first date would be and tries to do that as best as he can. Coffee shop date? Perfect, he'll take you to the nicest one in Hogsmeade. Movie and dinner? If he can't take you to a theater, he'll set up a projector in his dorm and bribe the house elves to either make you guys food or let him make it in the kitchen.

He loves reading, but isn't an obvious and reads everywhere type of person, but he loves just relaxing together and reading, while occasionally annoying you until you threaten to leave. Will also read the books you read. Better hope he doesn't see any of your smutty books. Or maybe hope he does. He'll recreate some scenes with you.

Loves how smart you are, brags to his friends about it all the time. Will always go to you with questions. But will also tease you if you don't know something that he does.

Will start making your grades a competition too. Likes annoying you by scoring higher. It does help his grades in the end anyways, so you take it as a win. McGonagall wasn't expecting this outcome, but is pleased with the result.

I also think he would send McGonagall a 'thank you' letter/note for putting you two together but will never admit to it

He loves you so much. He loves the sweet side to you and the sassy, witty side as well. He loves that balance you give him and knowing how to read him to tell what side he needs.

Taglist:

@jeannie-beannie @yourenogoodforme @mixvchelle @helendeath

Let me know if you wanna be added!

[rozeliyawashereyall]

Headcanons, headcanons and more headcanons but with drawings this time.

✵One common headcanon I always think of is that literally every character ever had fucked up trying to cut their hair by themselves, it's a fun pattern /lh

✵Fucking bet you Tethys used to bully Zef

✵ Timmy and Marco would love musicals actually

✵Explained it before- but in human form; I really feel like the merfolk in human form are still stronger and faster then the average human, Zef would be too but he's still getting used to the surface lmao ✵The fish bois most likely don't understand what hair dye is

"I'm dying my hair blonde tomorrow-"

"..you're killing your hair??"

✵Sera would either tolerate or HATEEEEE slasher movies omfg. Zef doesn't like the little mermaid movie solely because of that one mom dying scene.

✵I feel like Soheil wears reading glasses..it's just a vibe

✵do you think there's video games on the ship in the rebel series, cuz I feel like Naveed would DESTROY others at Mario kart He has daily competitions with Soheil, Torvin occasionally joins and destroys both of them at it

✵Nathan also seems like he rocks at video games, specifically the horror ones. Put him in Slenderman and he's getting out of there with all 7 papers within 20 minutes if not less

✵if Zef finds something shiny he'll immediately bring it to Sera, on some occasions he *purposefully* looks for shiny objects for him

✵He also has an ongoing mission to try and sneak up on Sera, but Sera always knows. Zef refuses to give up.

✵Guys you're really gonna need to hear me out on this one. Ray reads romance novels in his free time for fun. OH ESPECIALLY THE SAME WITH SKY- He wants to know what love feels like and what better way to learn than to read.

✵Ray had those little Beyblades back in middle school. Hell he probably STILL has them actually, just for the memories. Also it's a really cool trinket

✵Mercury has a subtle limp I feel ? From getting hurt all the time—well, not ALL the time, but enough times.

✵Zef has a VERY specific and picky music taste but the problem is you can barely figure it out because it changes like, every few days or so.

✵I feel like Konrad and Sky tend to dissociate a lot ? Just daydreaming and all

✵I'm going to need everyone to hear me out on both Zef and Sera liking photography. Clemmy shows them how to take photos on their phone and it’s all over—like HOW did you take 378 pictures in the span of an hour.

Then hits the realisation that humans live for like, a third of what merfolk live up to so Zef and Sera start hanging little photos of them and Clemmy they took in the cave where they'd meet up as a forever memory.

✵Not an HC and more of a theory- but hear me out, what are the chances Sky DOES turn back into a human somehow?? Smt smt the long line of dark magic that turned the elves into vampires clashes with the holy immunity and reverses him back....But also a negative and a positive make a negative—so instead of reversing him back it could either turn that ginger into god or kill him.

✵Zef thinks jumping out of the water to startle people is the funniest thing ever.

✵Zef, Nathan, Konrad, Sky, AND Ray stim. I rest my case.

✵If Timmy hears a new word, he has to repeat it at least three times.

✵actual crossover shit—Uno night would go CRAZY with all of them. For Ray's safety and sanity he doesn't join- "no I'm not playing Uno with a vampire, a zombie, an enhanced spy and a fucking mermaid. Get me OUT of here." And you know what I don't blame him—If someone said I have to play go fish with a werewolf I'd leave right then and there....Imagine playing go fish with merfolk though- I'd do it just for the jokes i fear.

✵Do not let any of these men anywhere near horror games actually, something is getting broken and it's probably the monitor.

✵ Timmy is the resident "baby" of this AU, and Ray is the extremely unwilling babysitter.

✵it's okay though he acquires Bodie as a father figure /hj

That's all yipppeee

[neyafromfrance95]

galadriel & sauron vs. morgoth theory + trop.

we all love the theory that sauron and galadriel would eventually fight side by side against morgoth.

if u think about it, trop is a perfect groundwork for this theory.

in trop, it is implied that sauron and galadriel meet by eru's design and their connection is destined. but why?

sure, galadriel has a hand in sauron's defeat, but so do many others. why does galadriel and sauron's relationship have to be so special and significant on the cosmic scales, above everything else?

in lotr, galadriel passes the test by the end of the 3rd age. she outgrows her pride and selfish need to rule without sharing her power with anyone and determination to rule the middle-earth even if it means becoming a terrible tyrant.

but it's interesting how later frodo sees galadriel through her phial's light:

“frodo took the phial, and for a moment as it shone between them, he saw her again standing like a queen, great and beautiful, but no longer terrible. he bowed, but found no words to say.”

i wonder if this is a subtle implication that galadriel has finally became worthy of succeeding her father one day. her father is the high king of the elves in valinor, and while he has sons, no one is as great as galadriel. tolkien himself commented on galadriel's commanding stature in valinor - "the equal if not unlike in endowments of fëanor." and "(galadriel) being mighty among the eldar, obtained this grace (entering valinor) for him (gimli)."

it has been generally agreed upon that since tolkien wrote several versions of it, galadriel’s story is convoluted, contradictory and inconsistent. but one thing has always remained at the core of her characterization - she is a politician who desires to be a leader. so ofc she would still be a politician in valinor, but it's interesting to imagine she would become a queen after outgrowing her greed and her time in the middle-earth was a neccessary test to shape her into a perfect leader.

considering trop canon, it can be said that even after everything, if sauron was to repent, galadriel would be the one to vouch for him or bring him up in a conversation regarding the battle against morgoth (and the first of all valinor to march to fight again).

another thing to note is that now, the only connection to the physical world sauron would have after the destruction of the one ring is galadriel's scar that binds them by blood! they have been bound by the sea, their admission of cosmic connection, nenya, and their souls are basically merged.

trop interestingly underlines the undertones of galadriel and sauron's comparability - they are mirrors that represent the light and the dark, but also galadriel is a natural born leader and sauron is a natural born follower. underneath sauron's desire to possess her, is the desire to serve and worship her as his queen!

and more importantly, his repentant phase in the show was when he was following her, when his presence actually was healing for galadriel.

so what does all of this have to do with haladriel vs. morgoth theory and how trop lays a groundwork for it?

galadriel's authority in valinor, sauron being bound to her, and galadriel being the one who makes sauron actually go back to his maiar purpose that valar ordained - the one who provides servitude and healing, all of this would make galadriel the perfect candidate to bring back sauron and make the valar consider his repentance.

as for sauron, by then, he would have enough time to get humbled and face what he knows subconsciously - he was meant to serve the light of his leader, not some silly ass rings. and by then, as we said, galadriel would have became even more perfect of a leader, maybe closer to how sauron saw her - a queen for all, a perfect antidote to morgoth. (and having outgrown her pride, galadriel would be able to admit her love and be by sauron's side as well.)

sauron says that after morgoth was defeated, he could feel the light of the one (eru) again and he knew if he ever was to be forgiven, he needed to heal everything he had helped ruin. he comes to see that light in galadriel. by helping her, he gets to receive "forgiveness" from the one he helped ruin ("i'm sorry for your brother, for everything" -> "whatever you did, be free of it"). he tells her that he never believed he could be free of it (morgoth's darkness) until fighting by her side (following her lead, serving her, healing her) and he wishes to bind that feeling (of being bound to galadriel's light) to his very being. and his subconscious screams at him that nothing he does will ever give him what he wants unless it's galadriel by his side, unless it's her light he worships ("your beauty still overshadows everything i could possibly write" ->"worship the light of its queen").

his repentance is tightly intertwined with his bond with galadriel and him coveting her light. he believes that he can be free of his bond to morgoth's darkness if he binds himself to galadriel's light instead. it's just that he can only truly repent if being bound to her light happens on *her* terms. in that case, they can be the force of the good together, pulling each other back from the darkness.

(it is interesting how in sauron's vision, his crown disappears once it's aligned with the sun, as if galadriel's light destroys it. girlboss taming her malewife but make it epic.)

whatever it is, i need one of u haladriels to adapt this theory on screen one day in the future.

[dunmeshistash]

Literally right after I saw one of ur Milsiril posts today I saw another person doing a Mithrun analysis with a huge focus on Milsiril only helping him bc of ulterior motives and it makes me sad :( She’s such a soft mum that would teach her children anything. If anything she’s less overbearing than my Chinese mother

What are the arguments? I don't really get what she gets from helping Mithrun. I guess the thing she would be able to get is making him fight the demon.

But like, she's no longer a canary and there isn't really much to hint that's what she wants. This is her part in Kabru's version

My boy really fairy tale-fied his backstory, it just ends with "And from that point onward Mithrun lived only to slay demons. He ate even though he had no desire to eat. He lived on, even though he had no desire to live."

Which is objectively false, in this version it really seems like she lets him live cause he can still be used, but he can't.

This doesn't really look like a killing machine that can be used to fight demons does it. Kabru as usual oversimplified what happened cause as he said "the world doesn't need to know personal things like that"

Again with his timeline vs Kabru's

Utaya started and ended while he was still recovering, 20 years from being saved to being appointed as a captain again. I know elves see time differently but even if we do the divided by 5 that's still the equivalent of 4 years of his life if he was a tallman. I don't think that's a negligible amount of time and honestly I'm happy Ryoko Kui considered that recovery from something so traumatic isn't fast or easy.

I said Milsiril only started to help with his rehabilitation after she retired because of this bit. "Mithrun. I saw a demon in Utaya" the situation from arrival to destruction was at most one year, I can't imagine she was able to leave in the middle of it just to visit Mithrun?

So I always assumed she did it after retiring (perhaps one of the first things she did since she's still in canary uniform)

Even if she left in the middle the earliest this could have happened is 498 so at most from his 20 years of rehabilitation Milsiril was with him for 2. At the most.

To me her smile here is cause she's seeing a way to motivate him to eat

Doesn't really look like someone sinister or with ulterior motives to me, she has her eyebrows slighty furrowed and a forced tight smile. To me it looks like she's worried. The other point is that right before this scene this is what she says

Here she has a soft smile as she remembers that he was someone similar to her. I think she didn't kill him because she saw herself in him, and I think she tried to help him for a similar reason. "It was such a warped, convoluted place built from inferiority jealousy lies and anger" "We might have hit it off pretty well"

She isn't saying that to judge him she's saying that and acknowledging he was just like her. I don't think the fact she relates to him would have been set up right before she tries to motivate him to eat to show "ulterior motives".

If anything I think the ulterior motive she has is that she sees herself in him, and wants to help him to help herself. Which as 'ulterior motives' go I think it's fine.

Everytime I talk about Milsiril I end up with a huge text lmao, I think I might be repeating myself too but I wish I understood the arguments for a sinister Milsiril using Mithrun. I don't really see anything in the extras that could indicate that. And the biggest "proof" is a intentionally abridged version of Mithrun's backstory told by Kabru that ignores all of his interpersonal relationships in favor of a easy to understand cautionary tale.

Oh yeah, and Mithrun's bitchy past self that didn't trust or like anyone saying it,

[roosterforme]

Pink Christmas Part 1 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Flying in the annual holiday air show dressed as Santa Claus was just something Bradley considered to be part of his job. But when he meets an inquisitive little girl and her beautiful mom, suddenly he wants to make all of their Christmas wishes come true. The only problem is, your daughter actually believes he's Santa, and he's not sure how he's going to keep up the charade when he wants to pursue you as just Bradley.

Warnings: Fluff, language, single mom reader, mentions of loss of spouse

Length: 8000 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female single!mom Reader

Pink Christmas masterlist. Check out my masterlist for more! Banner by @mak-32. Written for @bellaireland1981 Winter RomCom Challenge

You sat on a beach towel in the grass with your face tilted up toward the warm sun and your five year old daughter on your lap. Never would you have imagined wearing short sleeves and enjoying this kind of warmth in December, but your life had turned unpredictable in the past twelve months. And that included leaving a city that was currently buried in snow for the perpetual summer of southern California. 

"Mommy! Look!" your daughter shouted unnecessarily loudly, making you laugh. She turned around with wide eyes to make sure you were looking where she was pointing as she adjusted her pink noise canceling headphones. "It's Santa!"

You slid her headphones off since it wasn't loud at the moment, and you looked out across the runway at the Miramar Air Show to see a tall pilot dressed as Santa Claus walking toward his fighter jet with a group of other pilots dressed as elves right behind him. "I see him," you told her, kissing her cheek as she bounced with excitement. "It looks like he's going to fly one of the airplanes."

"Why does Santa have an airplane?" she asked. "And where are his reindeer? And why are the elves getting in airplanes, too?"

You were saved from having to answer her questions as the aircraft engines fired to life for the finale of the show, and you put her ear protection back in place before putting your own earplugs back in. Honestly, you didn't know how to explain to your child who still believed in the magic of Christmas why Santa was taking off in a jet that said ROOSTER on the side of it. Frankly there were a lot of things you didn't know how to explain to her.

She clapped her hands when the jets swooped overhead in an impossible looking formation before looping back around and doing it again. Your heart melted as you watched her wave to the lead jet and shout, "Hi, Santa!" The planes roared overhead and shot upwards before coming back one by one to the land on the runway with such incredible looking ease.

When she whipped her headphones off herself this time, your daughter jumped to her feet with a huge smile on her face. "Let's go talk to Santa," she said, reaching back for your hand. 

But you already had your eyes glued on the pilot who quickly replaced his helmet with a white beard and Saint Nick hat. You couldn't help but watch him, enjoying that distant glimpse of him before he went into full Santa character again. He looked tall and strong as he climbed down the ladder in his bright red flight suit, and you had to look away as you felt the heat rise in your cheeks. He waved to everyone in the crowd, and it felt like he was waving right at the two of you.

"Mommy!"

You knew she wasn't going to be deterred from this mission, so you got to your feet and let her tug you along as you tried to fold the towel one handed. "Sweetheart, Santa and his elves might be too busy to talk to us right now," you warned her as the group of six elves in bright green flight suits started fist bumping Santa Claus. And your steps faltered, because Santa somehow just got more attractive the closer you got.

------------------------

"Who let you be Santa anyway?" Jake asked, tugging on his red and green striped hat with enormous elf ears attached to the sides. "This elf bullshit is a damn disgrace."

"I volunteered to be Santa before the rest of you got a chance. Do I look like I'd make a good elf?" Bradley asked, and Jake rolled his eyes. "No. I do not." He was the tallest one in the group, and luckily he was able to sweet talk Maverick into letting him be the one to don the beard and the red flight suit for today's Miramar for the Holidays event they all volunteered to fly for. 

"Maverick should have mixed things up and made me Santa," Nat said with her chin in the air. 

"But you're the cutest little elf I've ever seen," Bradley told her, earning a smack on the back of his arm from her helmet. "Ow!"

"Wait, are we complaining?" Mickey asked. "I like being an elf. And apparently we get free food and hot cocoa in the volunteers tent."

"Oh, shit. Really?" Reuben asked, craning his neck to look toward the tent in question.

Bradley was about to remind everyone that they were obligated to pose for photos with kids when he heard a voice calling out, "Santa! Hey, Santa!" He turned toward the four foot tall chain link fence as an adorable little girl dragged a grown woman in his direction. 

"Hey guys, we got company," he told the others as he adjusted his white beard and red hat. When he waved toward the child, she squealed in delight, and Bradley couldn't help but laugh. As she and the woman he assumed was her mom approached the fence, Bradley leaned on the top of it. 

"Ho, Ho, Ho! What's your name, Kiddo?" he asked her with a bright smile. But his gaze inadvertently shifted to how gorgeous you looked as you held her hand, and he gave you a wink. He wouldn't mind learning your name, too.

But the little girl was eyeing him skeptically. "Shouldn't you already know my name? My mom said I'm on the nice list!" she exclaimed, gesturing up toward you.

Oh. Shit. "Uh, well, you see..."

Luckily you bailed him out with an apologetic look. "Ellie, don't be rude to Santa. He probably didn't update our names to our new address yet."

"Oh. Yeah," Bradley said, nodding in agreement and smiling. "Of course now I recognize you, Ellie. And your mom, too. Rest assured, you're both on the nice list."

But the girl wasn't convinced. "Why aren't you fatter?"

You brought your hand up to cover your face and groaned as Bradley laughed. "I needed to be able to fit in my jet."

"Why do you have a jet? Where's your sleigh?"

Bradley jerked his thumb toward the others milling around behind him. "My elves and I are trying out our jets this year. Something new."

"What about your reindeer?" she asked, undeterred. You were looking at Bradley and half smiling, half grimacing as you mouthed I'm sorry. But he didn't mind at all. Ellie was keeping him on his toes. 

"Uh... they have the year off, per their union contracts. You certainly have a lot of questions, Ellie."

She nodded up at him with her hands on her hips. "I just want to make sure you're the real Santa. I've seen a lot of impostors at the mall."

Bradley had to stifle his laughter as you said, "I had no idea she was going to be like this. I'm so sorry, Santa."

"It's fine," he reassured you, noting that you weren't wearing any rings before he returned his attention to your daughter. "Okay, Ellie. What's it going to take for you to believe I'm really Santa?"

Her brow scrunched as she contemplated his question, and Bradley used the time to check you out. It was useless, he knew that, since he looked like an idiot in his fake beard at the moment. But damn, you were pretty. And your daughter was like a tiny, inquisitive version of you.

"Well," Ellie said with a little smirk, "you should know how old I am if you're the real Santa."

You quickly held your hand up over her head to help him out, and he counted your fingers. "Of course I know that you're five years old."

Ellie's eyes softened a bit as she said, "That's right! And what's my favorite color?"

This time you juggled the items you were holding and lifted up a set of noise canceling headphones. "That's easy," Bradley replied. "I know you love pink." 

Now Ellie was smiling up at Bradley as she said, "And if you still need to update our new address, then you must know where we moved here from."

Bradley glanced up to see you pretending to shiver and rub your hands along your arms. "You moved here from somewhere cold."

"That's right!" she exclaimed, clapping her hands. "It's you! You're Santa!"

"It's really me," Bradley said, sending her a wink and nodding at you as you bit your lip and grinned. "And don't you worry, I'll have my elves take care of getting your new address straightened out. But first, I need you to prove that you're the real Ellie."

She nodded in excitement. "Ask me anything!"

"What grade are you in?"

"Kindergarten," she said, eyes filled with joy.

"Yep, that's right. Only the real Ellie would know that." You were laughing now, and Bradley loved the way it sounded. "And what's your favorite animal?"

"Pandas!" 

"Mmhmm," he hummed, pretending he was impressed that she was passing this quiz with flying colors. "I'm almost convinced it's really you."

"Seriously," she told him. "Ask me anything, because I'm sure I'm not an impostor."

Bradley glanced up at you and smirked before leaning on the fence again, and then asked Ellie, "Tell me, Kiddo. What's your mom's name?"

She blurted it out immediately, and Bradley committed it to memory. When he looked up at you again, your gaze was focused on the ground, but you looked pleased if not a little sad. He wanted to know why. 

"Would the two of you like to come in here and look at the North Pole jets?" he asked, and Ellie started bouncing up and down immediately. 

"We don't want to waste any more of your time, Santa," you told him with an apologetic look. 

"You wouldn't be," he promised, and when he said your name, you smiled and looked off to the side like you were embarrassed. "Come around the fence. You can meet my elves." He pointed to the gate a ways down where a security guard was standing. Bradley waved to him and gave him a thumbs up which the guard returned. "Santa gets special privileges."

"Fine," you said softly. "We'll just come around and meet you then?"

"Looking forward to it," he replied, and then Ellie was taking off for the fence opening with you right behind her. Bradley turned toward the others and clapped his hands. "Listen up. This little girl, Ellie, thinks I'm really Santa," he informed them. "And she thinks you're all my elves."

"Fuck," Jake groaned. 

"I'm really hungry," Bob whispered. 

"I refuse to be nice to you, even in front of a child," Nat said blandly.

"Whatever," Reuben and Javy said in unison.

"I'm so excited!" Mickey giggled, adjusting his elf ears. 

"Just be nice, okay? Here she comes... with her mom," Bradley said, really enjoying the sight of you headed his way. He cleared his throat and knelt down as Ellie streaked toward him. 

"Can I sit in one of the North Pole jets?" Ellie asked while you shook your head apologetically. 

"Really, feel free to tell her no."

But Bradley just smiled and adjusted his white beard before he scooped the child up and stood. You looked up at him with a mixture of surprise and intrigue as he said, "Sure, Kiddo, if you think you can climb that ladder? It's really tall."

"Yeah, I can do it!" Ellie said, looking past him at his F/A-18 and clapping.

"Sound okay, Mom?" he asked you, and you bit your lip and smiled. 

"Great. While Ellie and I are up there talking about what's on her Christmas list, why don't you give your information to my sweetest and most loyal elf, Phoenix."

Nat rolled her eyes at him so hard before she turned to you with a smile, and Bradley had to walk away before he started laughing too hard to stay in character. 

"Your elf is named Phoenix?" Ellie asked as he carried her toward the ladder. "What are the other ones named?"

Bradley chuckled. "They're all pretty silly sounding," he said as he set her down a few rungs from the bottom. "The big one is Payback. The one who can't stop smiling is Fanboy. The one that's yawning is Coyote. Bob is the one with glasses. And the cranky one is Hangman."

"He looks like he could use a candy cane," she said as she started to climb. 

"I think you're probably right. I should feed all of them more sweets." 

Once they reached the top, he hoisted her over the edge and climbed onto the seat behind her. "Do you want to talk about what's on your Christmas list?"

"Yeah," she said with a sigh as she plopped down on his knee and looked at him with concern. "We didn't bring most of our decorations and stuff when we moved, because there were already too many boxes."

"Oh," Bradley grunted, patting her on the shoulder. Now he was even more curious than before about where the two of you had moved from and why as his gaze met yours where you stood below with Phoenix. "Well you'll need a Christmas tree for your presents to go under."

She nodded and finally smiled when Bradley looked at her again. "The only thing I really want is a pink one!"

He blinked at her a few times. "A pink tree?"

"Yeah!  A pink Christmas tree! And an art set with pink paint."

Bradley nodded, figuring he could probably make that happen. "Sounds monochromatic but fun. Anything else?"

Ellie looked down at you and waved. Your brilliant smile for your daughter was so lovely, Bradley found himself waving too, which made you laugh. "Nothing else for me," Ellie whispered. "But something for my mom."

"Oh yeah?" he grunted when you blew a kiss up to them. Damn. He knew it was for your daughter, but he kind of wanted one of his own. "What do you think Santa should bring for your mom?"

"A boyfriend."

His gaze jerked back to Ellie's, but she looked completely serious. "You want me to get your mom a boyfriend?"

She nodded and said, "One that's tall and will play dolls with me sometimes and eat dinner at our new house. And he has to be really nice. Just like my dad was."

Bradley leaned in a little closer and wrapped his arm around her narrow shoulders. "What happened to your dad?"

"He died last year," she said matter-of-factly. "But I'm sure you knew him, because he was definitely on the nice list."s

------------------------------

You watched as your daughter gave the naval aviator she was convinced was Santa Claus a big hug. He actually looked a bit ridiculous in the bright red flight suit and hat with the white beard, but Ellie seemed to have bonded with him in some way. They were laughing together about something she whispered to him, and then he was patting her head. 

"I'll see what I can do for you, okay Ellie?" he told her, and you wondered if his voice really was that deep all the time. 

"Thanks, Santa!" She came trotting over to you and took you by the hand. "I'm ready to go home now," she told you with a smile as the 'elves' waved goodbye. A startled laugh escaped you, because the entire afternoon felt very surreal. You just gave your phone number and your new address to someone named Phoenix who was dressed as an elf even though she was definitely also a naval pilot. And now you were waving to Santa Claus who you were left to assume was named Bradley Bradshaw based on what was painted on the side of his jet. 

"Did you have a fun time with Santa?" you asked as you walked back toward the opening in the gate, chuckling at your own words. 

"Yeah. He's really nice. I could have probably stayed and talked to him all night," she replied, and when you turned back he was still looking at you. The casual wave of his hand made your heart skip a beat. You really wanted this again. That familiarity with another person. The ease. The perpetually happy child next to you.

"Yeah... he seems pretty great."

But you were really annoyed with yourself when you spent nearly a full hour after you got Ellie in bed imagining what his face might look like without the fake beard. It had barely been three months since you stopped wearing your wedding rings. It was just over a year ago that your husband died unexpectedly. You were decidedly not in the market for dating anyone while Ellie was this young, because she deserved all of your attention. So why were you thinking about this Bradley guy and how sweet he was with your daughter?

You collapsed onto your bed and grabbed your phone from the nightstand. You didn't do the wordle yet for today, and you still needed to check the weather for tomorrow. But you got distracted by a text from a number you didn't recognize. 

Hey, it's Bradley Bradshaw. I mean Santa. I hope you don't mind me texting you.

You sat up in your bed so quickly. Your stomach lurched as butterflies took up residence, and your fingers quivered a little bit as you gripped your phone. What were you supposed to do? "Text him back," you muttered to yourself. "Get a grip." 

You looked across the room at your wedding photo on your dresser. It had been in one of the few moving boxes you managed to unpack already, and it made you smile every time you looked at it. Right now was no exception; that was one of the best days of your life. But when you looked back down at your phone, you didn't feel a pang of sadness or regret. You felt intrigued. So you saved Bradley's number and then texted him back.

I don't mind one bit. I'm happy to have the chance to thank you again for earlier. You made Ellie's day! Mine, too!

And then you waited with your phone in your hand, half embarrassed and half excited by the idea of getting another text from him.

Bradley 'Santa' Bradshaw: Your daughter is a bit of a spitfire. I was very entertained by her. And there's no need to thank me. It was the highlight of my day.

Dealing with your sassy five year old was the highlight of his day? You squealed and had to set your phone down while you walked around your room for a few minutes. The highlight of his day? He was a fighter pilot! He flew a jet around at the air show!

"Oh god," you groaned, crawling back across your bed to your phone. You were already a lost cause. Over a man who had been dressed as Santa Claus? Ridiculous.

But now you were scrambling over what to type back to him. Send him a Santa emoji? No. You were flustered as you sent him the first random thing that came to your mind.

You make a great Santa. You know, in case you ever contemplate a career change.

You looked at the words on your phone screen and cringed. You glanced back at your wedding photo and sighed. If that was your best attempt at flirting, then it was amazing you'd ever been married at all. And this man you met today didn't even seem bothered that you had a kid. That was a miracle in itself. You got ready to toss your phone aside for the night when he sent back a smiling emoji and another text.

Bradley 'Santa' Bradshaw: I'll keep that in mind as a potential retirement gig. 

You wanted to tell him he looked pretty good in a fake beard. You wanted to tell him you were curious what he looked like without it. You wanted to keep him talking a little bit longer, because you could feel the adrenaline fueled blood pumping through your body, and it felt exciting. But before you could even say anything else, Bradley had you burying your face in your pillow so you could scream without waking Ellie up.

Bradley 'Santa' Bradshaw: But here's the thing. I'm an absolute sucker for cute girls. When can I see the two of you again?

------------------------

Bradley had to wait a little bit for a response from you, and he was sweating. He didn't want to push too hard, especially after Ellie told him her dad died, but he was intrigued. Plus, he was already googling pink Christmas trees. 

Ellie's Mom: Ellie and I are kind of suckers for sweet Santas. What did you have in mind?

He lounged back in his bed with a smile on his face. Was he about to drop five hundred bucks on an eight foot tall pink tree? Hell yes. Especially since you just called him sweet. 

Ellie asked Santa for a pink Christmas tree. I want to order it tonight if you can confirm it will fit in your house. And then I'd love to come by and set it up one day.

You wrote back almost immediately after he sent the link to the tree. 

Ellie's Mom: You don't have to buy that for her! It's so expensive! Honestly, you don't need to buy her anything!

Bradley sighed. The kid thought he was really Santa Claus, so there was no way she wasn't getting a pink tree and a pink art kit. It was the boyfriend request that made him chuckle, but he'd be lying if he said he wasn't interested in the idea of seeing you again. 

But I want to. Any chance you can measure the space for me?

He had to wait a little bit longer again for you to answer, but this time he was rewarded with photos that had him sitting up in bed and staring at his phone. 

Ellie's Mom: I can't find a measuring tape in all these moving boxes, but here's the spot where a tree could go. And here I am for reference.

You were smiling in the selfies, looking a little shy but just as pretty as earlier today, and you had on a shirt that looked so soft, he wanted to touch it. "God damn it," he grunted, already tapping out a response. 

I think Santa should stop by in person and check the measurements, just to be on the safe side. Also, you're gorgeous.

"Oh fuck," groaned after he hit send. He really didn't mean to come on so strong, especially since he just met you. He busied himself with ordering the pink tree that he was sure would fit in that spot along with some colorful ornaments and tried not to count the minutes until you wrote back.

Ellie's Mom: We'll be home on Monday evening. I'm sure Ellie would love another visit from Santa. And so would I.

Bradley wrote back letting you know roughly what time he could stop by, and then he started to formulate a plan. 

On Monday, in the locker room after work, he changed out of his regular flight suit and showered before zipping himself into his bright red one. His measuring tape, beard and Santa hat were already waiting in the Bronco, and he swung by his favorite bakeshop on his way out of Coronado. The place was packed with customers placing orders for Christmas goodies, so he was happy he decided to call ahead. He grabbed the box he already paid for and got back on the road, following his GPS across the city to the outskirts of town.

Your place was a cute town home with a pink Christmas wreath on the door and the windows lit with a warm glow as the sun set. Bradley got his Santa beard and hat situated using his rearview mirror, and then he grabbed the box and the measuring tape and made his way up to the front porch. As soon as he knocked, his heart beat a little faster, and a few seconds later, you were opening the door for him with a smile. 

"Hey, Santa," you said softly with a crooked little smile. Bradley took you in from head to toe, his eyes catching on your lips and your pink sweater as he heard Ellie come bounding down the stairs. 

"Santa!"

He looked past you just in time to see your daughter come streaking toward him wearing a pink dress and launching herself into his arms. He bent and caught her a little awkwardly as he laughed. "What are you doing here?" she asked as she hugged him. 

"Came to make sure you're still on the good list." Bradley grinned up at you where you stood biting your lip. "Well, Mom? Has she been listening and behaving?"

You nodded. "Yes, Santa. She's been very well behaved."

"Excellent," he replied, releasing Ellie and handing her the box which she opened right away.

She gasped and looked up at him. "Pink Christmas cookies?"

"Yeah, I just thought the two of you might like something sweet."

You were looking at him with softly parted lips, and then you said, "Aren't we supposed to be leaving cookies out for you later this month?"

"I wouldn't complain if you did," he replied as Ellie handed you a pink snowflake cookie. He watched you bite into it, and he realized he was staring. 

"Want one?" Ellie asked, tugging on his hand. 

"No, those are for the two of you, Kiddo. I'm really here to measure the room for your pink tree. I want to drop it off before Christmas so there's something for your presents to go under."

Ellie screeched and nearly dropped the cookies all over the floor as you took the box from her. She pulled Bradley into the living room and showed him where she wanted her tree to go, and then she helped him measure the space while she asked him what he wanted for Christmas.

"Does Mrs. Claus get you something every year?" she asked, eyes wide and focused on him. 

He wasn't sure how to answer her as he knelt on the floor with the measuring tape in his hand. So he decided to just be honest. "I actually don't have a Mrs. Claus yet."

When Ellie's eyes drifted from him up to you where you stood a few feet away, Bradley couldn't help but follow suit. "Mommy," she whispered. "We need to get something for Santa."

"Okay," you whispered back, barely glancing at Bradley before looking back at your daughter. "We can do that."

Ellie turned back to him and asked, "If I leave a present under the tree on Christmas Eve, will you know it's for you when you get here?"

"Of course. Just write my name on it so I know it's mine." Then she kissed him on his cheek right above his white beard, and Bradley melted a little bit inside. 

--------------------------

You and your daughter waved from your front door as Santa left with his tape measure and one of the pink cookies. Ellie insisted he take the one that was decorated like a reindeer with him, and you watched as he ate it while he started up his vintage blue Bronco. When he honked and waved goodbye, Ellie jumped up and down. 

"Santa's bringing me a pink tree!" she gushed, and honestly, you were feeling a little silly over that man, too. Your skin tingled as you closed the door and looked at the rest of the cookies. You felt like he was spoiling the two of you even though you barely knew him. 

"Let's go get ready for bed," you whispered, ushering her toward the stairs before you took the cookies to your kitchen to have a moment to yourself. Last Christmas had been a nightmare as it was just a few weeks after you lost your husband, and now you'd moved to San Diego to have a fresh start with a new job and a new school and a new city. You couldn't handle another holiday in the house that the three of you had shared. 

California was warm and welcoming, but the last thing you had expected to find here right away was a man that made your heart skip a beat. You knew your husband wouldn't want you to give up the idea of dating someone else, but you'd convinced yourself that nobody would want the two of you even though Ellie was a sweet kid. 

You set the pretty cookies down on the counter and sighed. Bradley didn't seem to mind that Ellie was around. If anything, he seemed to really like her. He was buying her a tree even though you told him he didn't have to do that. You were more than capable of getting one, but he wasn't going to be deterred. 

And Ellie definitely liked him, helped in part by the fact that she seemed completely convinced he was actually Santa. 

"You don't even really know what his face looks like," you groaned as you closed the box and headed upstairs. It didn't even matter though, because you could still tell he was handsome with the kind of brown eyes you just wanted to keep looking at. But how embarrassing were you? Crushing on him like this.

After you got Ellie in bed, you texted Bradley to say thank you, and he wrote back immediately. 

Bradley 'Santa' Bradshaw: It was my pleasure.

You imagined him saying those words in his deep voice in person, and you were still thinking about him the next morning when you woke up. You picked up your framed wedding photo and sighed in exasperation. "He reminds me a bit of you, honestly," you told your deceased husband who smiled back from the frame. "He's funny and kind of sweet. Maybe I just miss you. I don't know."

But you found yourself unable to get much work done from your home office while Ellie was at school. You kept sneaking down to the kitchen to get pink cookies, and by late afternoon, you caved like a house of cards and texted Bradley.

I can't stop thinking about what you might look like without your Santa beard and hat.

You set your phone down on your desk and stared at it. What were you, fucking insane or something? You must be. After twenty minutes with no response, you grabbed a sweatshirt and went for a walk around the block without your phone. You had forgotten how to flirt. That had to be what was going on here. You no longer knew how to be normal or subtle in any way, because it had been so long since you needed to be. When you moved to San Diego to start over again, you must have forgotten to pack your ability to act chill in front of men you were attracted to. 

You stood on your front porch and took a deep breath before heading back inside. You needed to stop this. After Bradley came back with the pink tree for Ellie, he wasn't going to want to keep hanging out anyway. It was better to just stop this thing in its tracks right now. You ran back upstairs to your desk and grabbed your phone. He probably hadn't responded yet, which was great, because you could text him again and tell him you were just joking.

"Haha," you muttered as you sat down. "Just kidding, Santa."

But he had already replied. Oh. And he sent a selfie. Oh my. "Oh my god." He was even hotter than you imagined. He had a mustache. A real one, not the white one. He wasn't wearing the red hat either, and as a result, you got to see how soft his light brown curls looked. And he was smiling, his lips and his eyes already familiar to you. Then you made a small, strangled sound as you read the accompanying text.

Bradley 'Santa' Bradshaw: Greetings from North Island... I mean, the North Pole. And by the way, I can't stop thinking about you either.

You literally melted out of your chair and onto the spare bedroom floor. You thought about reaching for your computer to put up your out of office message, but you couldn't stop looking at the photo long enough to focus on anything else. You were laying on your back looking at your phone, and you nearly dropped it on your face when he wrote back again.

Bradley 'Santa' Bradshaw: The tree should arrive on Thursday. I was thinking I could take a half day at work and come over to set it up on Friday afternoon while Ellie is at school? Then I could see you again, too...

You rolled onto your front and started typing. Of course you wanted him to come back on Friday. You hit send before you realized that you'd be here alone with him. You'd have no five year old to buffer yourself from almost certain embarrassment.

-------------------------

Everyone else was picking out poinsettias or red and green blooms, but when Bradley got to the florist, he asked for a big bouquet of pink flowers as well as a smaller one. Just pink flowers. Nothing else. He paid and left with both of them in one hand and ran back across the street to his Bronco. 

He was running late. He told you he'd be there around one o'clock, but it was already half past. Of course he needed to shower before he left work at noon, since he smelled like jet fuel, and then he had to stop back at home and load the tree and everything else into the Bronco before he could head to your place. 

The last thing he wanted was for you to think he didn't want to spend as much time with you and Ellie as possible right now. Frankly he was looking forward to spending a little time alone with you, even if it was just while he was putting the tree up. When he finally made it across town, he checked the time and winced before running up the sidewalk and knocking. And if he was already a little bit out of breath, it only got worse when you opened the door and smiled at him. 

"Sorry I'm late," he said. "I realized on my way here that I must have been overzealous when I told you I would be here by one."

You grinned and shrugged. "It's okay. Come on in." You closed the door behind him and asked, "Are those for Ellie?" You were gesturing at the flowers he forgot he was holding. 

"Oh," he said, pulling the bouquets apart. "One's for you." Your eyes went wide as he held the bigger bunch out, and your fingers brushed his when you took it. "The little one's for Ellie."

You were looking up at him in surprise and your voice was soft as you said, "Thank you." 

"Yeah, well, I didn't know what your favorite color was, so I went all in on the pink."

You were grinning again as you buried your nose in one of the fuchsia colored roses. "It's pink. Good job, Santa."

Bradley laughed. "I should have known. The two of you have me seeing pink everywhere now."

"I'm not sorry about that," you said, reaching for the other bouquet. "I'll put these in the kitchen."

He handed it over and said, "And I'll bring the tree inside." He watched you turn away from him, and he kept his eyes on you until you were almost out of sight which resulted in you turning around and catching him staring. He didn't mind. 

Bradley made two trips inside with the tree and all of the lights and ornaments, but you must have still been in the kitchen. Or maybe you went upstairs or something. He'd been hoping you wanted to hang out a little bit and chat, but he already had the enormous tree box open with pink branches spilling out of it when you returned with two mugs. 

"I made you some hot chocolate." 

Nobody had made him a mug of hot chocolate since he was a kid himself. "You did?"

"Yeah. But if you don't want it, that's fine." You looked a little shy now, so he stood and reached for the pink mug you were offering to him. 

"I love hot chocolate. I just don't drink it much now that I live where it's usually warm."

"Where are you from?" you asked before you pursed your pretty lips and blew on your drink.

Bradley smirked. "Would I be remiss if I told you I'm actually from Virginia and not the North Pole?"

Your bright laughter had him taking a step closer to you. "Not at all. Just don't tell Ellie that. She's already working on a Christmas present for you. I mean for Santa."

"Is she really?" he asked, suddenly unable to stop smiling. When you nodded, he asked, "What is it?

"I can't tell you! That would ruin the surprise."

"Yeah... don't tell me. I wouldn't want to disappoint her." Bradley took a sip before setting his mug down on a coaster and kneeling in front of the tree box. 

You cleared your throat as he started pulling branches out. "How long have you been living in San Diego?"

"About six years. I finally got a permanent station at North Island after moving around. A lot." He lined all of the pieces up on the floor as you took a few steps closer. 

"How old are you?" you asked him. When he glanced up, you added, "If you don't mind me asking."

He smiled. "I don't mind you asking me anything you want to ask me. I'm thirty seven."

"How are you possibly single?" you blurted out before hiding your mug in front of your mouth. "I'm sorry." You paced back and forth across the living room a few times as you said, "I'm so bad at this. Like epically bad at it. Because I haven't had to do it in so long."

"Do what?" he asked, trying not to laugh as you came to a stop right in front of him. 

You made a cute little sound before you whispered, "I have forgotten how to even attempt to flirt with a man."

He had to press his lips together to hold his laughter in. You were actually serious right now. "I thought you were doing alright."

"You did?" you asked, gaping up at him. 

"Yeah. I mean, you sent me those cute selfies when you didn't have a measuring tape."

You licked your lips and took a step away from him. "No one has called me cute since my husband died."

Bradley could feel his lungs deflating. He hated that you had to live through that. He was also selfishly a little afraid you were going to tell him you weren't looking to date again. This was really the only reason he hadn't asked you out already. Well, that and the fact that your daughter was currently convinced he was Santa Claus. 

But he thought he should try his luck. "Someone should be calling you cute every day. You and Ellie both. Like I said, I'm a complete sucker for cute girls."

You looked a little flustered now as you sipped your hot chocolate, so Bradley returned to his mission of putting the massive tree together in the corner of your living room. When he paused to drink from his own mug, you came over to help him. Wordlessly, the two of you assembled it until it was too tall for you to reach. 

When you handed the top part of the tree to him, he whispered, "Thanks." Your hand seemed to linger on his. Or maybe he imagined it. 

"It's nice having someone so tall around," you said. "You must have no problems putting your own tree up."

"Nah," he said, sliding the last piece into place. "I don't even put one up at home. Seems like a waste when it's just for me."

"You don't have a tree?" you asked, and your hand came to rest on his forearm. Bradley's eyes snapped to yours as you said, "If you can continue to handle all the pink... maybe you'd want to come back over and enjoy this one with us?"

"As Santa?" he asked. "I really got myself into a mess with Ellie, didn't I?"

You bit your lip as you looked up at him. "Yeah... she's kind of attached to Santa now."

Bradley was fighting the urge to just kiss you, because you were right there. And you probably tasted like hot chocolate. And the closer you got, the prettier you looked. 

"Should we add the lights?" you asked softly, your hand still on his left arm. "Before Ellie gets home?"

Very slowly, he raised his right hand so there would be no doubt in your mind what was coming. He traced your cheek with his fingertips as your eyes fluttered closed. "Yeah. Let's do the lights and the decorations before she gets back. I didn't bring my beard and my hat today."

"Okay," you breathed, leaning into his touch for a beat before you released his arm and pulled away. "I'll... get the lights ready." You turned and started to open some of the boxes of white twinkle lights while Bradley got the ornaments opened up.

He took out the pink and silver star, and when he reached up toward the top branches, you wrapped the lights around him and the tree at the same time. "If you want to keep me here with you, just say so. You don't need to tie me up."

You laughed. "I couldn't keep you even if I wanted to. You're Santa Claus, remember? You have a million toys to deliver next week."

Bradley caught you gently by the arm as you looped the lights around his back again. "To be crystal clear, I'm only doing this for you and Ellie. Nobody else."

You wrapped the lights a little tighter and said, "To be crystal clear, I like the way that sounds."

Bradley smirked as you finally loosened the strand and freed him. "Listen," he said as he followed you slowly around the tree as you put the lights on correctly this time. "Santa doesn't have time to play games before Christmas. He's very busy."

"Really?" you asked, looking back at him as you strung the lights higher and higher on the pink tree. "This kind of feels like a game to me, Santa."

He took over with the strand once it got too high for you to reach, and when he was done, he watched you pick up one of the boxes of ornaments. There were a bunch of pink and blue hearts and stars, and you smiled up at him. So he decided to go for it. Because he knew this was a rare opportunity he'd been given. "Santa is actually pretty serious right now. About you."

When you immediately returned your gaze to the box in your hands, Bradley ran his hands through his hair. You looked a little flustered again, just like you had when you claimed you forgot how to flirt. Whatever you were doing to him, he liked it. He liked how it felt to be around you and Ellie, too. He ducked behind the tree to plug the lights in, illuminating everything in a soft, pink glow, and then he tried to find the energy to help you finish the tree without pushing this any further.

"Hey, Santa?"

"Yeah?" he replied, his voice barely above a whisper as he reached for an ornament from the box you were holding. 

You seemed to weigh your words before you said them which had Bradley's heart beating a little faster before you even spoke. "I wasn't planning on anything serious. Not really ever again."

"Oh." Serious was the kind of thing he was looking for now. Serious was actually what he wanted. He hung the pretty blue heart shaped ornament and then let his hand fall to his side. His heart felt heavy like a stone sinking to the bottom of a lake as you reached up in front of his face to hang a pink and white heart next to his blue one.

"At least that's what I thought before we moved here," you added.

He looked at you with one raised eyebrow. "Something changed your mind?"

"More like someone," you whispered, handing him another pink heart ornament which he carefully hung just above the other two. He wanted to know for sure if he was the one that changed your mind, but you pulled your phone out of your pocket and gasped. 

"Ellie's bus should be here in a couple minutes."

"Right," he said softly. You and he finished decorating the tree, not so subtly stealing glances at each other the whole time. If there was even a chance with you, he wanted to take it, but he didn't want to press any harder today. 

When he reached for his empty mug, you shook your head and said, "You can leave it. I'll clean up later."

"Okay." With nothing else keeping him at your house he started to head for the front door, but you caught his hand in yours. 

"Wait." Your eyes were wide and a little hesitant, but when you tugged gently, he went willingly, slowly closing the distance between you body and his. "Thank you. For the tree and the ornaments. And the cookies. And the flowers."

He shook his head. "It's my pleasure. You don't have to thank me again."

"But I want to," you whispered, running your thumb along the back of his hand. "I want to do a lot of things. But they feel a little scary." When you paused, he didn't rush you. Your eyes were taking in every detail of his face, and you were smiling softly. "Things I haven't done in a long time. Things I never anticipated I'd be doing again. At least not while Ellie is so young."

Bradley opened his mouth, intending to tell you he could wait a few weeks or months to ask you out if that would make things easier for you, but you tugged gently on his hand again, rendering him silent. When your other hand came to rest on his chest, he held his breath. Your gaze stayed locked on your hand as you slowly guided it up along his shoulder and collarbone until it came to rest gently on the scars on the side of his neck. 

The soft stroke of your thumb and even the gentle flex of your fingers could have brought him to his knees. And then you finally met his eyes. "I really want to," you murmured as you stood on tiptoes, your chest brushing his. Bradley's brain took a beat longer to respond than his heart did, but when you tilted your face up to his and let your eyes flutter shut, he closed the distance to your lips with his. 

And it was perfect. The softest kiss of his life, but he could feel his entire body responding to you. With a soft gasp, you released his lips, but you didn't go far. When you met his eyes, you must have liked what you saw there, because you kissed him again. And again. And when Bradley guided your other hand around his neck, you kissed him a little deeper. 

"Oh," you gasped, running your nose along his cheek as your fingers teased the back of his neck. When your lips met his again, he held you close with his hands on your lower back, and Bradley decided he could do this forever. All of it. The pink flowers and decorating the tree and the perfect kisses. 

Then the front door knob rattled, and you broke away from his lips. Your eyes looked hazy at first, and you had the prettiest smile on your face before you pulled yourself out of his grasp as Ellie came inside. Your daughter looked back and forth between the two of you as you pressed your fingertips to your lips, and Bradley winced as Ellie asked him, "Who are you?"

-----------------------------

Bradley! I mean, Santa! Where is your beard?! I hope you loved part one! Part two is coming soon. This one took a village so thank you to @mak-32 @beyondthesefourwalls @thedroneranger and @cherrycola27

PART 2

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[dracowars]

knight in shining armour | elrond

pairing: elrond x elf!reader

word count: 5,5k

summary: where elrond and y/n have to make fatal decisions in war

a/n: i'm having so much fun with writing in this universe i haven't had in a long time (with writing in general) and i think that's beautiful <3 season 2 elrond really did it for me, so i hope you enjoy this flangsty fic. don't forget to reblog and give feedback, it means the world to me ♡

warnings: angst, violence, mentions of blood, mentions of injuries, miscommunication (kind of), elrond kisses galadriel

universe: the rings of power

You hold your breath once you step into the dimly lit tent, teeming with orcs and their smells. Carefully, you place one foot in front of the other, never taking your eyes off the enemy who is currently watching three elves enter its territory. Amidst all these orcs and darkness, you couldn't stand out less in your polished white armour.

You follow Vorohil who is walking directly behind Elrond, and quickly spot the Father of the Orcs sitting on a makeshift chair that almost resembles a throne. Your gaze doesn't linger on him for long, however, because something or someone else catches your eye. Galadriel is standing right behind him, tied up and leaning against a post. Her eyes widen when your gaze meets and everything in her face screams for you to not be here, to turn around and leave again immediately. But you are here to help her, to free her from the clutches of the enemy, from the claws of evil. And you won't leave without her.

One of the orcs tells Elrond to sit opposite Adar, and he does as he is told with so much confidence you hardly recognize the sweet, curious boy behind the mask. Vorohil positions himself to his left, you stand on his right, ready to step in at any time should something go amiss.

You are more than aware of your situation: right in the mouth of the enemy whose teeth could pierce your flesh any moment, with absolutely no escape. Should this turn out to be a trap and part of Adar's plan, you have stepped right into it. Yet, Elrond insisted on not bringing a weapon of his own. You, on the other hand, have hidden daggers all around your body that you could pull out in the blink of an eye if the situation arises.

Even though all eyes are on Elrond, you still feel uncomfortable. You have never been this close to orcs before without fighting them at the same time.

"The ring you carry. Show it to me", Adar opens the conversation, and you inevitably flinch. Of course he shows interest in the ring. Like all of Middle-earth, it may seem.

"A foolish act if I had brought it here", Elrond answers in a firm voice and appears calm and collected, stoic almost, one arm draped over the armrest.

Adar's expression tells you that he is less than satisfied with this answer. What he doesn't know, however, is that the ring is closer to him than he thinks possible.

Its metal presses cold against the skin between your collarbones, your heart thumping loudly at the mention of it and your mind drifts back to the moment when it was handed to you.

'You shall have it', Elrond tells you, wearing that gentle smile on his lips that always adorns his features when he's around you, that makes your heart beat faster every single time. He places Nenya in your palm and when the light reflects in its beauty, you gasp. This small ring, inconspicuous at first glance but incredibly beautiful, contains a power you can't and don't even want to imagine.

'No, Elrond. I can't', you whisper, afraid that your voice might break. He now clasps your hand with both of his and gently closes your fingers around the piece of jewelry.

'My love. I wouldn't trust anyone else to keep it safe', he tells you with so much confidence and affection in his voice that you can't help but believe his words. The way he stands in front of you, his brown locks falling into his face, his eyes clear and bright, and holds your hand tightly leaves no room for further discussion. He trusts you with this power and you won't fail him.

'You can consider yourself a ring bearer now', he smiles, gently guiding your fist to his mouth to place a light kiss on top of it, his other hand cupping your cheek while doing so. His eyes linger on your lips for a second too long, but before you can say anything, he is summoned to the High King.

"It was Celebrimbor himself who welcomed Sauron in. You cannot save him. You can save Galadriel", Adars voice brings you back to the present. The circumstances you find yourself in make it hard to believe his words. He won't let Galadriel go willingly and Elrond will never give him the ring voluntarily. Since it is in your possession, you don't plan on handing it over either. No matter how much more danger that puts you in.

"It is an earnest offer. I suggest you take it", Adar continues, staring solely at Elrond from across the table, and stands up from his seat. "And leave Sauron to me."

The mention of this name sends a shiver down your spine. A name that describes pure evil. It is obvious from the way Adar says his name that he feels as much hatred towards him as the elves and all other inhabitants of Middle-earth. It makes you a little suspicious, after all, Adar was once a loyal servant of Sauron.

Once more, your gaze slides over to Galadriel when Adar walks around the table. One of the orcs holds his sharp weapon against her throat, a sign to not even think of making a wrong move. It is known that Galadriel was deceived by Sauron, or Halbrand as she used to call him, which is why her face reacts to his name, too.

She whispers something and you try to read her lips, but you don't get a chance when Adar suddenly stands right in front of you, blocking your view. Although he is still talking to Elrond, his full attention is now solely on you.

"You must know you cannot defeat me in battle. I will outmaneuver you, my forces outfight yours, and you will fall", Adar spits out, searching your face for any signs of fear, but you hold your ground and present him with your best death stare in return. But inside of you, it looks much different. Chaos rages within your mind and veins, your heart is beating so fast that it's pounding in your ears and Nenya is pressing painfully against your skin. You send a prayer to the Valar that Adar won't suspect anything, that he can't see behind the mask you've put on. Because you don't know how much longer you can keep it up, especially not under his relentless gaze.

Adar takes another step towards you and you can now feel his breath on your skin. Since he knows that you cannot resist him at the moment, he uses this to his advantage. His eyes search your face, but you cannot say what exactly they are looking for. Whatever it is, he doesn't find it.

"You will fall and all your little elves with you", he says in a calm voice, but his words are filled with hatred. At this, Elrond suddenly raises from his seat as well and positions his body between the two of you, enabling you to finally breathe again, your heartbeat slowing with relief.

"Not before you have painted the sands of the Glanduin black with the blood of your kin", Elrond tells him, briefly looking over to the orc whose blade is still at Galadriel's throat. His hand behind his back indicates that you should remain calm. Some of the orcs around you growl.

"My children have endured cruelties your bravest couldn't bear to hear spoken aloud."

"Are you prepared to spend their lives so freely, Adar?", Elrond confronts him, his words sounding accusatory. "Are they?"

Peaking over Elrond's shoulders, you see a clear shift in Adar's face, in his eyes. Apparently Elrond has struck a nerve with his words, the orcs becoming more and more restless as well.

"The ring for Galadriel's life. What is it to be?", Adar once again presents him with the tough decision, to choose, to pick one and let the other down. Before answering, Elrond closely walks past Adar, drawing his attention away from you and what it is he desires most. From your position, you only see Elrond adjusting his cloak before he casts another glance at Galadriel. Their eye contact lasts almost a moment too long before he then returns his attention to her captor.

"Ask me on the field, when the neck with a blade against it is yours", Elrond tells him, his deep voice making it sound like a threat. The orcs around you begin to seethe and snarl again and all of a sudden you are very aware of the dagger strapped to your shin, hidden beneath the leather of your boots.

"Very well. I will meet you there", Adar replies, his voice carrying a tinge of amusement after he gave him a once-over. And for a moment you think he actually agrees, that this decision can be made without shedding any blood, no matter red or black. That is until he finishes his sentence.

"With her head on a pike."

You want to step in, to say something, anything to help get Galadriel and the ring out of here, but you don't even know what. And you don't want to risk putting Elrond in danger by acting rashly. That is why silence ensues for a moment while Adar and Elrond just stare each other down challengingly, neither of them backing down or even thinking about giving in.

"If that is to be the way of things, I should like to bid her farewell", Elrond finally answers him, causing a gasp to escape your lips as you unintentionally take a step forward. But Vorohil stops you by putting his arm out in front of you, preventing you from doing something you might regret later.

You can't believe what you're hearing, what just left Elrond's mouth. Galadriel, on the other hand, seems just about pleased with this decision, because it means that no one will be harmed because of her. At least no one who is currently present in this tent.

To your surprise, Adar grants him this favour and lets him talk to Galadriel one last time. All eyes are on them, but you can't hear what they say to each other; their voices too quiet. You watch in disbelief, however, as Elrond softly touches her face and suddenly leans in to her, connecting their lips in a gentle kiss.

All of a sudden, you find it difficult to breathe. You distinctly feel your heart breaking in two. The tent feels too small, too cramped, and tears well up in your eyes. No longer able to bear the sight, you lower your gaze, clenching your hands into fists at your sides. Although no one should be looking in your direction at this moment, it does not go unnoticed by Adar. He notices the pain in your eyes and in your entire life you have never felt so at the mercy of the enemy as you do right now.

You thought there was something between you and Elrond, a mutual, deep understanding that connected you. When by his side, you felt safe and loved. Until now you thought he returned that feeling and that there could be something more between the two of you, one day.

Apparently you were wrong.

It may have only been a few seconds, but for you it feels like several agonizing minutes before Elrond and Galadriel separate again. As soon as Elrond turns away from her, your eyes meet and a sharp pain ripples through your body, as if someone had stabbed you directly in the chest. Elrond's eyes are sad, suffering almost, and he looks at you with so much pity that you wish to disappear into thin air.

Elrond blinks a few times before making his way straight out of the tent.

"Vorohil. Y/N", he calls out your names, a silent command to follow him. Your gaze meets Adar's again who is watching you with his head tilted as you leave the tent together. You entered it as one, as a unit, but you leave it shattered.

You follow them out, the sun blinding you, but due to the tears you are still trying to hold back you couldn't see much from the beginning anyway. The orcs swarming around you aren't at all helping with the chaos that are your emotions.

You fall behind the two men. As if you were in a tunnel, you hear Vorohil bombarding Elrond with all sorts of questions in the distance. Questions whose answers are no longer important to you.

When they stop in front of you, you almost crash into them, too busy with all the thoughts swirling around in your head.

Was it all just a lie, a plot? Was he just using you to protect the ring? To have someone to sacrifice?

Your common sense tells you that this simply cannot be true, that Elrond has not been leading you astray and that what you feel for him is reciprocated inside of his heart. But your broken heart painfully beats in your chest and tells you something completely different.

You watch as Elrond mounts his horse and gives Vorohil an order, but the words do not reach your ears. You only see him in front of you, a knight in shining white armour, the sight of whom used to give you so much joy, made your heart beat faster and your cheeks blush. In the tent, you were willing to take a blade for him until the very end, but everything is different now.

Elrond's gaze wanders from Vorohil to you and all the sadness from before has disappeared from his face, replaced by a neutral expression. The expression of a warrior on his way into battle.

"Meantime, I will ensure that Eregion's walls hold for one more night", you finally register his words as he looks straight at you. Without another word, he puts on his helmet and rides away. An unspoken order hangs in the air and you swing yourself onto your own horse. After all, he is still your commander, whom you will always follow into battle, come what may.

════════════

Your legs are shaking, your hands sticky, covered in blood and mud. Your movements are shaped by exhaustion. Nevertheless, your blade sinks into the flesh of another orc who falls to the ground with a gurgling sound. With all your strength, you pull out your sword and stumble back a few steps, your gaze wandering over the battlefield in front of you.

Corpses over corpses scatter the ground. Some brave warriors are still fighting against the few remaining orcs, but there is no way out. You have lost, Eregion has fallen. You are shocked to realize that you have lost so many elves today, friends and strangers alike.

This realization hits you with so much force out of nowhere and you collapse to the ground, onto your knees, and let out a scream filled with pain and sorrow and all of your remaining strength. You fought, side by side, and in the end it was all for nothing. The forces of Adar have taken you by surprise and no one was prepared for the chaos that would ensue. Now you find yourself in the mud, surrounded by the dead, the last sounds of battle wafting towards you, and you feel utterly and completely alone.

You lost sight of Elrond since the troll's attack and Arondir is nowhere to be found either. Just thinking of Elrond gives your wounded heart another stab that cannot be compared to any wound inflicted in battle. Ever.

A tear finally finds its way down your cheek, but you are quick to wipe it away with your dirty hand. You can't show weakness, not even now when you feel incredibly overwhelmed. You don't even know if Elrond is still alive, and you scold yourself for still worrying about the man who took your feelings for granted.

But of course you do, you love him.

You don't know if it's the ring still around your neck or your instinct, but something tells you to look toward the fallen walls of Eregion, to get one last look at the once beautiful city. And there you see him.

Elrond.

Kneeling.

In front of Adar.

Without hesitating for even a split second, you gather all your strength and stand up. You approach them quickly and watch as Elrond attacks Adar with his dagger, but Adar parries his attack by violently grabbing his arm. With a whimper, Elrond drops his weapon. You stand still as Adar's hand closes around Elrond's throat and lifts him above the ground, choking him. The sounds that escape from Elrond's mouth will haunt you in your dreams.

"Where is it?!", Adar shouts at him, losing his composure. Elrond's hands claw at his, trying to somehow prie them away, but to no avail. The battle has left Elrond weakened. Adar, on the other hand, seems to have gained more strength from it. At that moment, Elrond spots you, and even though you only look at each other for a second, Adar immediately notices Elrond's shift of attention. He turns his head in your direction, and if you didn't know better, you'd think surprise flashes across his face. Apparently he didn't expect to ever see you again.

"Let him go", you command, your voice trembling and your sword pointing at him.

"Or what?", Adar asks spitefully, raising an eyebrow. Not knowing how to answer, you look at Elrond again.

"G-Go", he chokes out.

You look at him in shock and immediately shake your head. You would never leave him behind. Adar follows this encounter with interest and with a smile pulling at the corner of his mouth when something dawns on him. The next moment, he pushes Elrond to the ground forcefully who desperately gasps for air.

You want to rush to his side immediately, but Adar draws his own sword and pushes the tip directly against Elrond's throat who is still gasping for air and hasn't even managed to sit up.

You freeze when you see blood.

"So that's how it is, I understand", Adar murmurs loudly, seemingly amused by something. Then, he reaches out his open hand towards you, catching you by surprise.

"The ring. Or he's dead."

Your eyes inevitably widen, but you no longer have the strength to put on a mask and hide your true emotions. And in doing so, you put everyone in danger.

"D-Don't listen t-to him", Elrond stutters, his eyes full of terror when he meets your gaze. He is not afraid of dying. He is afraid that the ring will fall into the wrong hands.

You gave him your promise. When you accepted the ring, you simultaneously promised that you would protect it with your life. And you still stand by that.

But right now, this is not about your life.

"Hurry or your sweet commander will soon find it extremely difficult to breathe", Adar threatens and presses his blade even harder into Elrond's skin, making him whimper in pain.

He can't speak anymore because of the life-threatening weapon at his throat, but his tear-filled eyes scream at you not to give in. But how could you not?

You move your lips and form the words 'I'm sorry', but no sound wants to escape your throat, your vocal cords failing terribly.

Lowering your sword dejectedly, you feel for the silver chain around your neck and eventually pull it over your head. Nenya dangles at the end, catching the sunlight that slowly but surely breaks through the clouds. Your hand trembles as you place the ring in Adar's palm, feeling like a failure.

Not just to yourself, but to your entire kind. And above all, to Elrond.

As soon as Adar has the ring in his possession, he removes his sword from Elrond and lets you approach him. You immediately fall to your knees beside him. Elrond gasps for air and coughs repeatedly, his head thrown back in defeat. You support his head with one of your hands, helping him to sit up.

"Forgive me", you sob quietly, but get no answer from him. He watches silently as you are surrounded by orcs who were just waiting to take you as prisoners.

And the whole time you can only think of one thing: You betrayed them all.

════════════

You were about to set out to help her on your commander's orders. But it was already too late. You only saw a white figure falling down the cliffs. Now you're running through the dense forest, searching the ground, looking for a body. Every inch of your own body hurts, the cuts across your face throbbing painfully, but you have to keep going, keep walking just a bit longer, because she could be lying behind the next tree and you would never forgive yourself if you didn't find her.

Taking a break and catching your breath for a second, you lean against a tree, the battle taking a heavy toll on your body and strength. Suddenly you fleetingly notice a white shimmer to your right and run straight towards it, your ribs hurting. You breathe a sigh of relief and, at the same time, shock when you see Galadriel's motionless body on the ground, her arms stretched out at unnatural angles.

Without wasting any time, you rush to her, lifting her head so that you can gently place it on your lap. Loudly, you call out to the others that you have found her.

Her face is covered in soot and blood, her eyes closed. As you look at her like this, you once again realize how truly beautiful she is, even on the treshold to death. Your thoughts make your heart ache deeply, because how could Elrond not take a liking to her?

"They will be here soon", you whisper encouragingly, although you are not even sure she can hear you and your voice sounds anything but heartening. Your gaze lands on a large wound on her shoulder, the source of black streaks that are running across her armour. Carefully, you lift her armour with shaking hands and recoil in shock, as if you burned yourself, when you see a dark mark carved into her skin.

You don't get the chance to think about it any further, however, when Arondir and the High King finally arrive at your side. You let Gil-galad help Galadriel and take a few steps back, giving them enough space. As you do so, a light catches your eye, coming from under a branch. The relief you feel deep inside when you spot Nenya is overwhelming.

The High King tries healing Galadriel with the help of his ring. In Quenya, he orders her to step back into the light and leave the darkness behind her and her soul. With tears in your eyes, you watch as Galadriel takes heaving breaths, her eyes blinking violently, but she doesn't come back. Every passing second, she leaves the light a little more.

When you hear footsteps, running quickly at first and then slowing down abruptly, you don't have to turn around to know that it is Elrond.

"We're losing her", Arondir says and looks around helplessly. You see as much pain in his eyes as is reflected in yours and Elrond’s.

When you look over at Elrond at last, your heart stops beating for a moment. You thought you had already seen him at his lowest, where things couldn't have gotten any worse, completely devastated, but the way he is looking at Galadriel right now convinces you otherwise. The sadness that adorns his battle-torn but still beautiful features brings even more tears to your eyes.

His heart seems broken, crying for Galadriel.

"The darkness is too powerful. I cannot save her", the High King utters in defeat.

Even though it is only for one short moment, you hesitate. You hesitate to give the ring to Elrond, afraid of what might happen then, that your heart will crumble into even more fragile pieces.

"You can", you hear your own voice from afar and give Elrond the ring that you lost earlier. Elrond's eyes suddenly become clearer, brighter as he takes it, feeling it in his palm. But his eyes tell you that he is afraid, too. Afraid that he may not be able to save her. He fears he might lose her.

Gathering all your remaining strength, you force an encouraging smile onto your face, nodding and indicating that he should go to her. Elrond doesn't return your smile, he still looks at you with so much suffering in his eyes, but his facial features are more at ease now as he nods back at you. His way of thanking you.

"We can", he states, to convince himself once again before he puts on the ring.

════════════

You stare at your own reflection, which looks up at you from the quiet water of the river. You dip your fingertips into the water, the waves that result distorting your face. The wounds that covered your face have been cleaned and treated, only slight cuts still visible. There is nothing to do but rest and reflect while everyone waits for Galadriel to awaken.

You are not startled when you suddenly see another reflection, a face above your own, for you have heard him coming.

"Galadriel has awakend", Elrond lets you know and elicits nothing more than a nod from you. "She is up and well."

"I'm glad", you reply and see his brow frowning, his eyes growing sadder in the reflection of his face in the water. Which surprises you in all honesty, because he should be filled with happiness right now. You may have lost the rings for men and many of your elven friends have fallen, but in the end you are alive and safe. Galadriel is safe.

In fact, you admit that you feel relief that she seems to be doing well, but it somehow still hurts just thinking about the kiss they shared.

"May I.. May I have a moment of your time?", Elrond asks you now, after a few seconds of silence, filled only by the chirping of birds and the rustling of the trees around you. This place is truly a sanctuary.

His voice sounds so fragile that you can't help but raise up and turn to him, folding your hands in front of your lower body.

"I bestowed the ring upon you as a token of my faith in you", Elrond explains and you notice from the small wrinkles on his forehead that he is having difficulty finding the right words.

Meanwhile, you just want to leave. You can't listen to him express his disappointment about your actions. After everything that has happened, you're just not strong enough anymore. Your heart is not strong enough.

"I entrusted you with it because I didn't trust myself", he continues, looking into your eyes, but you avert them and focus on the grass on the ground. "Because I knew that, if the situation occurred, I would have acted the same way you did."

A look of surprise crosses your face as you lift your gaze and meet his glistening eyes.

"If the roles had been reversed, I would have given up the ring, too. For your life", Elrond states, his eyes solely focused on yours. "Because when it concerns you, I'm simply too weak. You are my weakness. By giving Nenya to you I thought I could prevent myself from losing it. Instead, I placed the burden upon you."

Your heart beats loudly in your ears, not quite understanding what he is saying.

"But Galadriel-"

"What you saw.. It was a distraction. Galadriel is merely a good friend, whom I love differently", Elrond explains and his voice tells you how sorry he is. "I gave her the pin off my shoulder piece to give her a chance to escape. I couldn't guarantee that it would work, but I took the risk. And I was willing to hurt you by doing so."

He carefully reaches for your hand and you let him take it, continuing to stare at him with glassy eyes as he speaks, your throat dry.

"I am deeply sorry for any pain my actions have inflicted upon you", he apologizes sincerely and lowers his head in regret, some of his brown curls falling into his face. "I couldn't even look at you after that because I could see exactly how badly I had hurt you."

"E-Elrond..", you get out, but you don't even know how to continue or what to say to him. Your emotions are all over the place because you have wanted to hear these words from him for so long, but on the other hand you feel sad because he suffered as well. And if there is one thing you hate more than anything else, it is seeing those you love hurt.

"Another weakness on my part was not telling you about my true feelings earlier. It was unfair since you have always given me nothing but sincerity and affection. My love, I hope you can forgive me and overlook my weaknesses", he says, his voice getting quieter and more humble towards the end, his hand squeezing yours tightly as if you could run away at any moment. What he doesn't know, however, is that with every word he is mending your heart a little bit more.

"I remain hopeful that you will return my love, despite what happened."

He stands before you, probably barely able to stand after days of constant fighting, and pours his heart out to you. He is still in his armour, his face scarred by battle. And you can't help but admire him for it.

Because what he is doing right now is braver than anything he has ever done before.

Without saying a word, you finally pull him towards you and wrap your arms around his neck tightly, his armour pressing against your chest. At first, Elrond didn't expect such a reaction, which is why it takes him a moment until his muscles relax, the burden falling from his shoulders, and his arms sneak around your waist.

"Sometimes I really hate you, Elrond Peredhel", you say against his neck before pulling away from him, hitting his chest plate once to get your point across. Laughing, he takes a step back and protects himself with his arms in front of his chest. You laugh too, but only for a moment until Elrond's smile disappears again as he looks at you.

"Your beauty is truly captivating", he smiles softly and slowly steps closer so that your bodies almost touch. His hand reaches out to tuck a strand of hair behind your pointed ear as he looks back and forth between your eyes, his fingertip gently running over your skin from your ear to your chin. His touch leaves a trail of warmth. A smile twitches at the corner of your mouth and your gaze wanders to his lips.

The world stands still for a moment, all the events of the last few hours forgotten, banished from your thoughts to enjoy this one moment.

When Elrond's lips gently connect with yours, your patched up heart feels like it's about to jump out of your chest. Elrond's hand on your chin pulls you even closer to him, but he does it in such a gentle way that your cheeks turn red. One of your hands searches for support on his armor because your knees feel like they are about to give in. But you know that Elrond would be there to catch you. Your knight in shining armour.

You never want to stop kissing him. How many times have you dreamed of this moment, imagined what it would be like. All your expectations are being exceeded right now.

When Elrond pulls away from you so you can both catch your breath, he leans his forehead against yours gently. You immediately miss the feeling of his lips on yours.

"My love", Elrond whispers against your skin, placing a soft kiss on your forehead. His cheeks took on a shade of red after the kiss and you are certain that his heart is beating against his armour just as fast as yours. Gently, you cup his heated cheek and run your finger over his skin, being careful not to touch any of his wounds. Then you can't stand it any longer, pull him even closer to you and kiss him again, which elicits a surprised gasp from him. Both of you smile into the kiss as he leans in even more.

If it were up to you, this moment would last forever - just you and Elrond and your love for each other. But you know that this is just wishful thinking, that you have tasks to complete, duties to fulfill. After this moment, the world will continue spinning, wars and battles will be fought, history will be written, but now you know that whatever happens, Elrond is by your side. For eternity.