#the love is requited they're just idiots

[abandoned-as-mustard]

This unexpectedly romantic sequence at the end of antibug, as she's running away, has me feeling something I can't quite explain

(Also, he shadows of her eyelashes on her mask... her eyebrow just barely peeking above it...) Something something the casual mutual adoration, if she slowed down she'd know it, but then she's gone, it's always been this simple

[spookilyscary]

spent new years eve creating a spreadsheet to track my 2025 fanfic reading. bout to go on a journey and learn some probably concerning things about myself.

such as the fact that i've already read close to an entire novels worth of words in two days...

[tastethesetears]

@weylerweek2023 | Day 8: Free Day - Star Atlas by @anotherbluesunday

[slayerx147]

YESSS IM SO EXCITED TO SEEE WHAT HAPPENS NEXT

If You Were Mine, pt 1

Javier Peña x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

Rating: Mature. But this blog is always 18+ Word Count: 15.8k   Warnings: Mentions of sex work, smoking, food/alcohol, mentions of past Steve x reader, angst, yearning, the love in requited but they’re both idiots, there’s only one bed, Chucho is the best, this fic has a cockblocking dog and I’m ecstatic about it. Summary: When you and Javi are both suspended and deported from Colombia pending investigation, the truth about what got you into trouble and the onus of trying to decide what comes next hangs over you like a black cloud. Out of guilt - and maybe something else - Javi invites you to stay at the ranch with him while you wait for your hearings. And that’s when things start to get more complicated. Notes: Part one of two! I told Keri that I wanted to write a little wedding date one shot and it got wildly out of hand. And I’m so glad it did, because I love these two idiots.

“So, uh, call me when you land.” Steve Murphy looks decided unhappy, maybe a little nervous as he looks between you and Javi. It’s all out in the open now, the secret spilled, but he’s still not sure how his other partner feels about the revelation that had been the nail in the coffin for sending you back to the States. “Gonna miss you both.”

“I’ll miss you, too.” What had passed between you and Steve didn’t damage your friendship with him or change your working relationship in any way, although it had threatened to. Now, though? Now that everyone knows? You had no work at all. “I’ll let you know where I end up. Don’t know how long it will take me to get back on my feet.”

Keep reading

[dragongirlstudios]

Once Scarlet and Malleus actually start dating, Malleus decides that Scarlet needs a custom Diasomnia uniform for when she's visiting him...

And this is really just more self-indulgent bullshit on my end. I wanted an excuse to draw Scarlet in a Diasomnia uniform and Malleus is fun to draw, so of course he'd be here.

[killerpancakeburger]

KNIGHT IN SHINING KHAKI

Gif by @bastardcompany

SUMMARY: You've angered the wrong officer. You think you're a goner when Johnny sweeps in to save the day.

PAIRING: Soap x f!Reader ("her" is used to refer to reader once, that's it) (+ Reader's hair is long enough to grab)

TAGS: Civilian!Reader, Depressed!Reader, Insecure!Reader, Angry!Soap, Protective!Soap, GuardDog!Soap, canon violence, hurt/comfort, swearing, blood mention. Ghost makes an appearance as a matchmaker lol. The love is requited they're just insecure idiots. Making Shit Up for the Plot/military inaccuracies.

WORD COUNT: 2.7k

A/N: My original prompt for this was: civilian!reader sees Soap in action and gets Horny. No Scared Just Horny.

Then I found out that Soap canonically beat up an officer. I am also obsessed with this video.

Part 1. Part 3.

This is it, you thought to yourself. 

This is how I die.

The day had unfolded like any other. Your shift was over and you were locking up your office, as usual. Your attention was focused on your hands’ motion, your guard dropped, your back exposed.

This explained why, when the stranger grabbed your hair and bashed your head against the door mercilessly, you didn’t see it coming in the slightest. The fact that you had zero combat experience while the person manhandling you was a decorated military officer obviously made matters worse, but at the moment of the assault, you didn’t know that.

The thud of the collision was eclipsed almost immediately by the pain exploding in your face. Half-stunned, all you could comprehend at the moment, every single signal sent by your brain was compacted in one word: suffering. Sharp, all-encompassing. You yelped, your hands vainly pushing against the cold, hard surface to get away.

“I've finally found you, you little snitch. Didn’t think you'd get away with it, now did you?”

Despite the blood thumping in your ears, and how groggy the hit on your head made you, his words reached you perfectly. They were seeping with fury and disdain. His voice didn’t ring a bell, so you tried to turn your head to glimpse him, if only at the corner of your eye, and he granted you some leeway to do so.

Perplexity filled you as you finally caught sight of your aggressor: you've never seen that man before.

“I don't even know who you are,” you winced.

Talking back in your situation would be judged stupid and reckless by a majority of people. Laying low assured more chances to avoid harm.

However most people hadn't been mugged at knifepoint like you had been, and most people valued their lives way more than you did.

Once the confusion and incredulity subsided, the pain still vivid but manageable, you were left with frustration and anger towards your interminable bad luck and the man behind you. His aversion was harder to take seriously when it seemed to have no foundation.

The grip on your hair tightened, making you grit your teeth.

“I'll refresh your memory, then.”

One part of you managed to be pleased to know that this mystery would be solved; the rest was ringing alarm bells when hearing the underlying threats in his tone.

“Weeks ago, you filed a report for embezzlement.”

You frowned, having no recollection of his claims, before a memory emerged. You saw them in flashes: the sudden, abnormally high spendings, the certificates full of anomalies, the incoherent dates; all this lead you to complete a reporting form, just as your job required you to. It was just a formality. You hadn't even even paid attention to the name attached to the expenses, therefore the officer was still anonymous.

Your aggressor scoffs menacingly, easily reading on your face that you remembered.

“They're gonna strip me of my rank and throw me in jail because of you. I'll make you pay even if it’s the last thing I do.”

That last sentence was finished in an almost shout, making you flinch, wishing you could pass through the door.

You quietly resigned yourself to your fate. No one was coming for you. You were no stranger to the inner workings of the military - no one would dare cross an officer that high-ranked for your sake. 

I've lived a good li- well, no. A pretty shitty life, actually. But at least I can say I did the right thing.

Just as you closed your eyes and braced yourself, hoping this wouldn’t drag on, a Scottish-accentuated roar resonated in the empty hall.

“Get yer hands off her-”

You had never heard Soap sound so enraged, nor his pitch so gravelly. Relief flooded through you at the sound of his voice, blended with gratitude. Tears stinged the corners of your eyes.

All of a sudden the unyielding grip on your hair was gone, the sound of something violently hitting the wall punctuating your newfound freedom. 

“-ye fucking bastard!”

You immediately turned around to see what was happening, leaning against the door behind you. Your legs were too shaky to be reliable. The harmed side of your face was throbbing in pain as you took in the scene with wide eyes.

Johnny had pinned the officer against the wall with one forearm across his chest. He dealt him a punch to the face powerful enough that the resulting thud made you grimace, despite not feeling any sympathy for his target.

He managed to administer a second blow before his adversary snapped out of his stupor, and the advantage he gained from taking him by surprise ran its course.

As your assailant defended himself with the strength of someone backed into a corner, you couldn't help but fear for Soap's safety for a moment. Despite knowing that one's rank didn’t reflect their fighting prowess, a rush of anxiety passed through you at the idea that he could lose that confrontation.

Nonetheless, he quickly put your mind at ease as his skills proved to be largely superior. The gap between the two was deep enough that it was obvious even to a neophyte like you.

Paralyzed, you couldn’t do anything but stare at the display of violence with a mix of morbid fascination and sadistic satisfaction. Honestly, if you could borrow Soap's body, you would without a doubt inflict the same treatment on that man. Maybe worse. Fair payback for the threats, the smashing of your face, the probable trauma you'd get from this. Maybe not that fair. But maybe for once you'd stop trying to act like a paragon of virtue.

You should have been scared, you realized. You had never been involved in a fight before. You had never witnessed firsthand the brutality Johnny was capable of, despite being aware of it, between his status as a soldier and the reports you read. The dog tags jingling from his neck and the khaki of his uniform were like so many visual reminders that he was a killing machine. His ferocious wrath, his yelling and his punches should have made you cower in fright.

However the only feeling inhabiting you was safety, as paradoxical as it sounded. Soap was safe, you were convinced of it, consciously or not.

This whole ordeal felt like it lasted an eternity and a minute at the same time. You blinked and out of nowhere, Johnny was straddling the officer on the floor. Blows kept pouring in but they were one-sided - the sergeant had gained the upper hand. The rhythm of his strikes seemed attuned to the beatings of your heart. Each resonated inside of your ears with your skull as their echo chamber. The noise was loud enough to cover your own thoughts.

As you focused on your breathing, you managed to slow down your heartbeats, and the blood-fueled pump between your ribs no longer felt like it could burst out of your chest at any moment. You failed however to contain the tremor in your hands.

You chose to focus on Soap's hands instead. They were soaked red from blood spilled, but not his. Specks of crimson sprinkled his hair, his face, his neck, his t-shirt.

There was a certain sort of lethal beauty to this brutal display that you couldn't help but contemplate in reverent silence: the way his bicep swole when he threw his arm back before hitting his target. The tightening of the muscles beneath the tanned skin of his arms. His icy stare. The harsh line of his jaw. His stern, inflexible expression, one he usually wore in meetings or after Price gave the order to leave.

The expression of someone who would stop at nothing, provided a bleak little voice in the back of your mind. The idea didn’t bother you nearly as much as it should have.

“Not gonna make him stop?”

The familiar grunt of Ghost's voice almost made you jump out of your skin. You pivoted and the behemoth of a lieutenant was there, in casual clothes, right by your side. You had no idea when he arrived or how long he's been standing there, quiet like a shadow.

Something dark flashed in his brown eyes as his gaze lingered on the hurt side of your face.

“Why would I show mercy to someone who would have granted me none?” you scoffed bitterly.

“Someone's bloodthirsty.”

“You're one to talk.”

“Didn’t say it was a bad thing.”

You turned your attention back to Soap and Ghost did the same.

“I doubt he would listen to me.”

“He would,” stated the masked man, with the assertiveness of someone announcing a conviction. 

“But if ya don't believe me…”

A beat, then.

“Oï, Johnny!”

The shout was nonchalant, like it was something he did often, calling off his sergeant from some prey like the Scotsman was his personal attack dog.

The effect was immediate.

Soap abruptly froze, blinking a couple times as if awakening from a trance. Then he perked up, and turned around, eyes searching. The first sound that left his lips was a call of your name. His gaze latched onto you and didn’t let go as he stood up and rushed towards you. The naked vulnerability, the raw openness in his voice and on his face were so earnest that they felt like a Cupid's arrow shot straight between your lungs. It left you devoid of speech and motion, so as Johnny reached for you, all you could do was try to convey your reassurances through your eyes; that you were mostly fine, and so grateful, but worried for him, that he made everything better-

His arms closing around you made the outside disappear, and suddenly the whole world came down to Johnny, and only him. His embrace was enjoyable for a second before the pressure of his body against your face woke up your contusions. You let out a muffled cry of pain and he released you immediately, swearing and apologizing. However his hands didn’t leave you, grasping your shoulders.

“C'mere hen, lemme have a look at ye.”

“Oh, I'm fine, you should worry about-”

Your voice pathetically died in your throat as he cupped your face, leaning over, way too close for your heart to not start stammering uncontrollably.

The combined attention of his fingertips on your skin and the turquoise of his eyes roaming your visage turned your cheeks into a blazing inferno.

Unable to maintain eye contact, your gaze wandered over his own injuries, a split lip and a couple of bruises.

Suddenly he grabbed your chin between his thumb and index, tilting your face one way and the other. Your skin flared up at the contact, pleasant yet nervous tingles scattering all over your body.

“Ye sure he didn’t hit ye on that side? Yer a wee bit red.”

You bit back a whine of complaint at that comment. He couldn’t be that oblivious.

“Yer makin’ it worse, Johnny.” sneaked Ghost, the amusement manifest in his voice - at least to you.

Soap looked up to him, frowning in incomprehension, indignant. 

“The hell ya on aboot L.T.? How am ah makin’ it worse?”

You panicked.

“Shut up Riley!” you hissed, in a desperate attempt to put a stop to his shenanigans, forgetting that you were supposed to be severely intimidated by the masked man.

That drew a gruff chuckle out of him. Your sudden outburst caused Johnny to release you.

“Not that I'm not glad to see you, but why are you two even here, anyway?”

You were kind of proud of your ability to change the subject.

“Was comin’ tae get ye fer a game,” smiled Soap, and it reminded you of a pet proudly presenting its owners with its findings.

“This one wasn’t coming back, and neither of you were answering your phones, so we figured somethin’ went wrong. And we were right. This poor fucker is wanted. Called in reinforcements to deal with him.”

Footsteps’ noises caught your attention. A group of soldiers in uniform seized your aggressor and brought him to his feet, before unceremoniously shoving him in the direction opposite of you.

“Gotta tell Gaz the game ain't happening tonight.”

By the time you took in what Ghost had said, and turned away from the procession, he had already disappeared.

“This isn’t over,” menaced the officer, passing by your spot as he was hauled away. “When I get out-”

“Shut the fuck up,” snarled Soap instantly, protectively positionning himself in front of you.

“Found yourself a faithful guard dog, uh?” the other man taunted.

One one hand, that last remark wasn’t so far from the truth - he had been acting a lot like that: barking threats, baring his teeths, standing between you and the menace, reducing a man to a bloody pulp for hitting you…

But on the other hand, letting that piece of shit talk to Johnny this way was simply out of the question.

Before thinking, you found yourself walking in front of the sergeant and retorting.

“What, jealous he's ten times the man you'll never be?”

Fortunately for you, he was dragged away before he could snap anything back. That didn’t prevent you from regretting your snarky comment immediately. It had been a purely impulsive urge, the kind that could make you feel heavy remorse for days, if not years. As if this seasoned combat expert needed your aid to defend himself. The idea was ludicrous.

You didn’t get a moment to mope around however, as Johnny proceeded to grab you by the hips and press you flush against him with a jubilant smirk. You couldn’t do much except prop yourself with both hands on his pectorals to avoid stumbling.

“My hero.” he praised like a smitten damsel in distress.

“Look who's talking.”

You lowered your gaze despite yourself, mumbling your reply, a half smile on your lips, embarrassed but amused.

“Going after bastards is mah job, not yours. You gutsy little thing.”

You refrained a sarcastic laughter at the nickname - gutsy and little were two things you have never been called, as far as you can remember. But you weren't about to argue with the man who just saved your sorry ass.

His fingers pressed into your flesh, sending tickles at the bottom of your spine.You were about to ask him to let you go, the position too incriminating for this public setting, when you noticed how dilated his pupils were. He had to be high on adrenaline from the fight.

You may have let yourself get lost in the blue pools of his eyes, until his expression turned grave.

“Ye sure yer good? Yer too calm about this. No need tae put oan a brave face fer me, aye?”

The genuine, serious concern in his eyes made the inside of your stomach twist.

“I'm good. You arrived just in time,” you assured.

How peculiar it felt to be the one to comfort Johnny, rather than the opposite; that the lionhearted, superhuman sergeant Mactavish might even need such a thing; that he might require it from you, of all people.

“He didn’t get to do much.”

His pretty features contorted into a scowl at the reminder of your attacker.

“That sonuvabitch… raising a hand on ye in broad fuckin’ daylight… if he ever touches ye again, I swear I’ll…”

As he kept fulminating against your assailant, you couldn’t stop an endeared smile from spreading on your lips. Listening to one of Soap's rants brightened your mood; it was familiar. The sincerity in his words and his tone was welcome. He wasn’t able to fake those emotions even if he wanted to; they spilled out of him like a waterfall. His honest worry and righteous ire towards someone who hurt you was… flattering, in a sense. It made you feel cared for, like you mattered.

Then red started dripping.

“Johnny… your nose is bleeding.”

He wiped it negligently with the back of his hand, only succeeding in smearing it over his face. You couldn’t hold back a snort.

“Bend over. It will stop faster.”

“Buy me dinner first.”

He punctuated his quip with a suggestive wriggle of his eyebrows. You rolled your eyes.

“Let's just go to medical already.” you grumbled, starting to walk decisively, albeit stiffly, in the right direction.

“Aye, aye,” acquiesced your savior, jogging a bit to catch up to you.

[stellar-solar-flare]

What Makes A Home

ex-soldier!Ari Levinson x neighbor!Reader | 2,385 words.

Themes: friends to lovers, idiots in love, competency kink if you squint, neighbors, cozy community.

Reader is female, no Y/N, no description of appearance. Nicknames 'dear' and 'honeybun' are used by Ari for Reader.

My blog is for people 18+ only, minors DNI.

Story Content Warnings: implied smut, Ari being a soldier mentioned, Ari having guilt over his past, some very minor hurt/comfort (the love is requited, they're both just idiots).

Notes: This is a made-to-order fic for the amazing @bigtreefest - I hope it brings you joy and fulfilled your prompt! Full disclosure; I wasn't able to get my hands on the movie, so I had to piece Ari's character together from his scenes on YouTube. My utmost gratitude to @steviebbboi for character consult and helping me be confident about the decisions I made in the planning stages of this fic (all mishaps mine, of course). It is also my first time writing Ari. I hope you enjoy, and all feedback is very welcome!

I do not own anything The Red Sea Diving Resort related. This is an unofficial fan work. No copyright infringement intended. This is a work of fiction. Any similarity to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events, is purely coincidental.

The house that you inherited from your great-grandaunt — who apparently despised you less than her other relatives —is definitely what a realtor would describe as ‘having plenty of potential’. But it really does have good bones, so to speak, and with the current housing market, you definitely aren’t complaining.

And the neighborhood isn’t half-bad, either. The community is close-knit, if a little nosy, helpful to the point of overbearing.

And so, they didn’t miss it when a new moving truck arrived at the house next to yours. The gossip has gone wild — the names of different special services are thrown around in the whispers like candy, even though no one can reasonably know anything about his history. Especially if he has a history as some overseas covert operator, like Mary at the end of the street keeps claiming, he certainly will keep that information to himself.

You are yet to run to him, and so you’re operating on second-hand information about him — which is mostly focusing on the fact that he’s tall and bearded and looks like he could bench press a school bus.

Curiosity may have killed the cat, but you reason that a simple welcome visit isn’t going to end with your untimely demise. You pick a nice Saturday afternoon, check that his truck is on the driveway, and make your favorite snickerdoodle recipe. With a plate of still-warm cookies under aluminum foil, you go ring his doorbell, not entirely sure why your heart is beating so hard. It’s just a decent thing to do.

It takes a few moments for him to open the door, and when he does, you are proud that your poker face holds.

“Hi,” you say to the giant at the door. “You must be Ari. I live in the house next to yours, and I thought I’d come to welcome you to the neighborhood; they did it to me too, when I moved in a few months ago. I brought snickerdoodles.”

You extend the plate to him, and he takes it. He leans one shoulder on the doorframe, and you do not swallow when you see the muscles of his arms move. His hair reaches behind his ears, and he has a nicely trimmed beard. Even in a simple — tight — white shirt and jeans, he does look like a soldier. Not violent but like there is an alertness to him, despite the amusement in his eyes.

“Hi,” he says. “Yes. I’m Ari. And you are?”

You give him your name, chuckling at the fact that you left it out in the first place.

“Nice to meet you. And thank you for the baked goods. Would you like to stay for a cup of coffee?”

He moves aside, gesturing for you to step over the threshold.

And you do.

There were a lot of things you had learned about Ari over the six months since your first meeting, that cup of coffee that somehow hadn’t felt awkward at all. He had a talent for filling moments like that with idle chatter that didn’t feel like it was just there to cover something.

It was just so Ari, how his charm was always on display and yet so inseparably a part of his very being that it didn’t feel like an act. It was just who he was. Of course, he could be a playboy — at least when it came to the charming part, since as far as you knew, there hadn’t been anyone visiting his house besides you.

You were more than certain that a fair number of ladies in the neighborhood harbored a crush. And why wouldn’t they, when Ari was the first to volunteer to any project, cracking easy jokes while he worked and being all charismatic smiles and wide shoulders ready to tackle anything.

It was that restless energy that had drawn him to your house, too. Just like you had turned up to his door that one Saturday, the next week he had turned up at yours, dressed in a flannel and jeans and carrying what looked like a heavy, well-equipped toolbox, pristinely new.

“Those gutters are going to fall off the clips soon. I could attach them better if that’s alright with you?”

Stunned, you had nodded. Sure, there was an endless list of things to attend to, and the gutters had been on your mind but then winter had come and you’d been so focused on other things. You had no idea how he noticed, and when you’d asked, he shrugged it off, mentioning something about how he had to learn how to build and maintain things out there, so you’d left the topic at that.

It was the first thing he fixed at your house, but not the last. He gravitated here, looking to do something of meaning, and he refused to hear your suggestions about paying him for the work he was doing — despite the fact that every project he poured himself into was done with the meticulousness rivaling not only someone not in the profession but with a passion to it.

Like the patio you were now sitting on your knees on, holding the plank in place for him so he could screw it onto the beam underneath from the opposite side. You’d made the mistake of mentioning over a shared dinner that you had contacted a contractor to see how much it would be to replace the deck, and he had turned up the next morning with all the necessary materials, in the exact shade of wood that you’d envisioned.

You weren’t certain that you wanted to know what strings he’d pulled to get all that so fast.

“Ari, seriously, you didn’t need to do this.”

“Nope,” he said. “But I wanted to.”

“At least let me pay for the wood,” you said. “You know, I’m a strong independent woman and I do have my own paycheck.”

“And I’m very proud of you, dear,” he said with perfect nonchalance, and you tried to ignore something twisting in your chest at that. “Just let me pick the next five movies for our movie nights and we’re even.”

You huffed, knowing that you’d be in for some underground art movies no one but Ari had ever even heard of but nodded regardless. It was literally the least you could do.

He finished screwing the plank down and reached for more screws from the box on the side — you’d begun earlier today by laying down all the planks to have an even platform to work with, and now it was just the matter of evening out the cracks in between and attaching them to the support structure. His arms moved, and his t-shirt lifted slightly as he bent to the side, revealing a slice of tanned, warm skin at his waist. You forced yourself not to stare.

The thing with Ari was that he flirted with anyone and everyone — except with you. He made the grannies laugh by asking them at the community nights if they were old enough to drink; he had the cashiers at the local grocery store sighing dreamily after him when he departed with one of his famous smiles. Everyone seemed to understand it was all fun and games, and yet you were certain you weren’t the only one here with hopes when it came to him.

But it wouldn’t be you — his complete and total lack of that kind of behavior around you was the clearest sign you could’ve asked for. He saw you in an entirely platonic light, and so you didn’t want to endanger what was a beautiful and genuinely enjoyable friendship with him by asking him if you could be more than that.

Even if sometimes the question, the why not me, burned your tongue and tried to sneak out of your throat. At least then you’d know the reason why he saw you so differently than others.

“Honeybun?” he said, yanking you out of your thoughts.

You swallowed, hoping that the question would go down too, and met his expectant gaze. He’d said something, and it had flown right past you, and now he was staring. God, you could drown in the blue of his eyes.

You were lucky to have him. He was a good friend, caring, attentive. He made you laugh at the worst of days; he was good at coming up with solutions, especially unconventional ones. You had no reason at all to feel wistful at all the nicknames, derived from different baked goods you’d made for him over the past months.

“Nothing, nothing,” you said, lowering your gaze. “Sorry. What did you need me to do?”

You heard a thump as he set the screwdriver down. He reached his hand, two fingers under your jaw tilting your face back up so that you’d look at him. There was that little wrinkle of worry between his brows and you felt a pang of guilt even as the warmth of his fingers was making your skin tingle.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” he said. “We can take a break if you need a few. You’ve been somewhere far away for half the day.”

You quickly shook your head, knowing that you’d already ventured too far close to the line you didn’t want to end up crossing.

“Just a little tired, that’s all,” you said, hearing the flimsiness of the excuse even in your own ears.

He tilted his head and raised his brow; his hand was still there, under your jaw, lingering where it absolutely shouldn’t.

“I know it when you’re lying, honeybun,” he said, one corner of his mouth rising into a smirk. “Spill the beans. Do I need to kick someone’s ass? I’ll do it, you know.”

You swallowed so loud that it seemed to echo in your head like the creaking sound of thin ice.

“No, there’s no need for that. I was just wondering what’s so different about me?”

A flash of something in his eyes, gone so quickly that you could hardly tell it was there to begin with.

“Different how?” he said, strain in his voice, like he was going for some sort of normalcy and failing to grasp it.

Oh no. You had opened some floodgate and now things would be awkward from here to eternity. The only way to save this was to get it all out, and now that the water was flowing freely, there was no stopping the words from flowing out of your mouth:

“Well, it’s not a big deal, but sometimes I wonder why it is that you have this flirt going on with everyone except for me, and I mean, it’s absolutely and totally fine, you just see me thoroughly like a friend and that’s that but with what we have and all the nicknames and all that, sometimes I wish there could be more and I’m just wondering –“

And then you were wondering about nothing at all.

Ari was on you like a shot, his hands framing your face and pulling your lips on his even as he leaned towards you, and it didn’t matter that you didn’t understand. His kiss was a claim laid, one hand cupping the nape of your neck and the other wrapping around your waist even as his mouth devoured yours. He pulled back with his lips still on yours, bringing you to his lap and he was everything, everywhere, his scent and warmth and the softness of his shirt smelling like spring sun and laundry detergent, the taste of him on your tongue, the feeling of his hands mapping your body. It was just him all around you, and you fell into that just as easily as you’d once fallen into a comfortable, shared routine of friendship.

When he finally let your mouth go, you were both out of breath, and you were straddling his lap, suddenly very aware of how his feelings towards you weren’t entirely platonic at all. There was a hint of pink on his cheeks, and his hands came to cup your jaw, thumbs caressing your skin.

“You were too precious for that, honeybun,” he murmured, eyes fixed on yours. “I didn’t… When you waltzed into my house that day, it was the first time it felt like a home. You were the first time I felt at home. And putting on that face… it felt too cheap for you. And I didn’t… I couldn’t lose you. Not you. So I thought I’d be there for you. Take care of you, make you happy, and find my joy from that. When I was out there… I don’t know if I did enough, if I made a difference. I wasn’t sure I even deserved the kind of peace I felt with you.”

“Ari,” you breathed out, tears prickling in your eyes, unsure what you would’ve said even if there wasn’t a lump blocking your throat. “Ari, I…”

His thumb brushed over your kiss-swollen lips, and he shook his head ever so slightly, his gaze aflame with something that could never ever be just friendship.

“But now that I’ve had a taste of you, honey, I’m not selfless enough to give that up. I want you more than I’ve ever wanted anything in my life. I can’t let you go.”

“Then don’t.”

And just like that, his mouth was back, his hands diving down from your face to map the shape of your body, and the tiny moan he breathed right onto your lips sent a shiver down your back. He was holding you by the hips and you tangled both of your hands into his hair, making sure he wasn’t going anywhere without you.

“I think,” he managed in between pushes of his lips. “I think the patio can wait.”

You nodded eagerly, and he stood up with ease that sent a swooping feel of desire into your core, his hands slipping under your thighs so he could carry you. Your legs wrapped around his waist as your arms clung to him, and he made a beeline for the door that led inside.

It was a good thing that after all the work he’d done at the house, he knew exactly where the bedroom was.

Thank you for reading. Please consider leaving a comment, if you can spare the time and energy.

[parttimesarah]

The softest!

#soft

[wangxianficfinder]

In the mood for...

Oct 27th

~*~

1. Hiii, i have a request for the next ITMF: please recommend some lengthy canon divergence fics in which lan xichen gets told off for believing JGY over LWJ. Like the fact that he believed someone from another sect (especially the Jin) over his own brother is called out.

Ofcourse wangxian pairing with a happy ending for them.

Extra plus if it's not jiang cheng friendly or not jgy friendly.

Thank you 🙏

Discarded by teawater (E, 187k, WIP, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Dying Lan children, Hurt/Comfort, YL WWX, Golden Core Reveal, Case Fic, Depression, Family Issues, Self-Esteem Issues, Self Confidence Issues, Self-Worth Issues, Angst with a Happy Ending, and it’s not always dark, POV Multiple, BAMF WWX, dubious morals in the Lan sect Feels, Pining, Grief, Fix-It, BAMF LWJ) if they don't mind a WIP

A Life Without Regrets by naqaashi (M, 163k, WangXian, JFM & WWX, JC & WWX, WRH & WWX, LXC & LWJ, LQR & LWJ, LWJ & NHS, Canon Divergence, Time Travel Fix-It, Angst and Humor, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Crack Treated Seriously, Slow Burn, Mutual Pining, Rogue Cultivator WWX, Murder Husbands, PTSD, BAMF WWX, Cultivation Sect Politics, Genius WWX, Cultivation Theory, Sentient Burial Mounds, Dysfunctional Family, Grief/Mourning, Angry WWX, No Golden Core Transfer, BAMF LWJ, Angry LWJ, One-Braincell WangXian, Idiots in Love, Requited Love, Requited Unrequited Love, Soft WangXian, Married WangXian, Soulmates, Not Cultivation World Friendly, Immortal WWX, Canon-Typical Violence, Not JC Friendly, Not Yunmeng Jiang friendly, not gusu lan friendly, Immortal LWJ) its not the Main Focus, but LX issues gets adressed

Twelve Moons and a Fortnight by stiltonbasket (M, 290k, WangXian, Humor, Slow Burn, Post-Canon Fix-It, Long-Distance Relationship, Epistolary, Love Letters, Family Feels, a-qing lives, teenage romance, Adoption, Romantic Comedy, Happy Ending, Weddings, Case Fic, Parenthood, Politics) link in #8 there's an epic scene where lxc calls himself (and the more toxic Lan rules) out, and dedicates himself to being a more proactive sect leader, set after canon.

Arrayed by FirefliesNLightningBugs (M, 5k, wangxian, angst w/ happy ending, LSZ found by LXC, LSZ keeps his memories, alive JYL & JZX, canon temporary character death, WIP) shows lxc slowly realizing that he did this and that was stupid from his pov, set post 1st siege of bm.

~*~

2. Hello! IMTF fics that deal with self-discovery. Whether it be coming to terms with being queer or gender stuff or kink. Just grappling with identities and the social tumult that comes along with navigating them, purity culture, cisheteronormativity, etc. Just smth along those lines.

Thank you!!

KILF (Knits I’d Like To Fuck in) by ScarlettStorm (E, 168k, WangXian, Modern, Established Relationship, Porn, like in the writing and also as a plot point, onlyfans au, sex worker WWX, Fashionista LWJ, in this house we support sex workers, Fluff and Smut, they're horny and in love, mental health, therapy is good actually, Domestic Bliss, tender kink, Fiber Arts, autistic LWJ, neurodivergent WWX, switch rights, Nonbinary NHS, a soupçon of gender, get in losers we're introspecting about queerness, Genderfluid Character, Gender Exploration, perhaps slightly more than a soupçon of gender, Hurt/Comfort, past trauma, But They're Working Through It, aggressive mutual caretaking)

reports of my heterosexuality may have been exaggerated by sysrae (E, 8k, wangxian, modern, college/university au, getting together, straight boy LWJ, disaster gay WWX, heteronormativity, hockey player WWX, little angst)

Pride and Prejudice by sami (T, 3k, WangXian, Pride, Parades, Cats)

❤️ save a sword, ride a socialist by sysrae (E, 33k, wangxian, modern w magic, college/university au, fake/pretend relationship, single parent WWX, homophobia, light angst w/ happy ending, idiots to lovers, fluff)

without your new eyes by anaphoricae (E, 66k, WangXian, Modern, Didn’t Know They Were Dating, Sexuality Discovery, Self-Discovery, Literal Sleeping Together, (there is so much sleeping in this fic), mentions of WWX/others and LWJ/others, Drunk LWJ, Teacher LWJ, WWX is a… throws dart… computer scientist, No Angst, Jealous WWX, Flirty WWX, Eventual Smut, Bottom LWJ, Fluff, Non-Sexual Intimacy, WWX’s Love Language is Physical Touch, [Podfic] without your new eyes by anaphoricae by LadyEn)

this body is a gift for you by loosingletters (T, 1k, MXY & WWX, Trans Female WWX, Trans MXY, Canon Divergence, Gender Identity, Self-Discovery, Gender Roles)

The Sculptor by Eleanor_Fenyx (M, 27k, wangxian, LQY/WQ, LWJ & WQ, SL/XXC, modern, lavender marriage, period typical attituted and terminology, mute SL, queer themes, queer families, slow burn, getting together, intimacy, artist WWX, professor LWJ) autumn flower by ScarlettStorm (E, 78k, WIP, WangXian, Modern AU, no magic vague north american setting, transwoman wwx, transwoman lwj, Gender Experimentation, Angst with a Happy Ending, Gender Dysphoria, followed by gender euphoria, Strangers to Friends to Lovers, switch rights) Its trans fem lan zhan descovering herself and how to let herself be true to herself, and wei ying (also transfem) was a big part of cracking her egg. It's still ongoing and it's really good!

~*~

3. ITMF fics that explore wwx’s cultivation - canon dynamics, preferably not cql compliant please!

🔒 Ad Oblivione by Baph, HikariNoHimeWriter (M, 70k, WangXian, Time Travel Fix-It, Temporary Character Death, Canon-Typical Violence, POV Multiple, Hurt/Comfort, Grief/Mourning, Identity Reveal, Golden Core Reveal, Cultivation World Critical, Not JC Friendly, Abusive YZY, Angst with a Happy Ending)

~*~

4. Hello! And thank you so much for all you do!! I’m in the mood for a fic set in canon universe where wangxian start a friends with benefits kind of thing, where they start having sex without discussing their feelings.

Always Light My Way by cqlorphan (E, 27k, wangxian, Post-Canon, Getting Together, Friends With Benefits, to lovers, wherein dual cultivation may be counted as a benefit, Jealous WWX, Misunderstandings, Mutual Pining, Pining while fucking, angsty sex, Versatile | Switch WangXian, Bottom LWJ, Service Top LWJ, Topping from the Bottom, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Coming Untouched, Dom/sub Undertones, the angsty sex happens in the beginning but they get past it dw, Oblivious LWJ, archer WWX, Smart WWX, Porn with Feelings, Panic Attacks, Angst with a Happy Ending, Dual Cultivation)

~*~

5. ITMF a fic similar to hyperballad by azuresummer please!

🔒 姻緣 | this marriage was always predestinedby saccharinings (E, 43k, wangxian, Cheating, Infidelity, not between wangxian, WWX is married and LWJ persuades him to cheat on his husband with him, Dark LWJ, A/B/O, Feminizing Language, Exhibitionism, Size Difference, WagnXian Have a Breeding Kink, Stomach Bulge, Possessive LWJ, Manipulation, WWX Wears Lingerie, Rape/Non-con Elements, for one part, Hair-pulling Kink, Alpha LWJ, Omega WWX, Mirror Sex, Vibrators, Phone Sex, Rimming, Edgeplay, slight choking kink, Light Bondage, Inappropriate Use of Gūsū Lán Forehead Ribbon, LJY’s Big Fat Crush on Milfxian, Pregnant WWX, WangXian Endgame, Spanish Translation) maybe. It has some common elements but ah no murder I think. A Wen does get screwed over.

~*~

6. Hey its for the ITMF.

"A harmony between qin and se" by alaceron is one of my all-time favourites. It'd be great if you could recommend some wangxian fics with household intrigue and scheming. Lwj being a simp as a bonus is even better!! (doesn't matter if wwx is a male or female)

~*~

7. ITMF fics where WWX and LWJ end up accidentally married. Or ones where they end up married because of political/economic reasons. Canon era fics are preferred but will accept modern era if it’s the “we got married for tax benefits but i’m actually in love with you” kind of trope. Mpreg only if it’s really good please.

a long time coming by syriala (G, 2k, WangXian, Getting Together, Pining, Accidental Marriage, except it's not so accidental, Supportive LXC, Fluff)

30 Days of Secret Marriage at Cloud Recesses by starandrea (T, 43k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Bunnies, Gusu Lan Forehead Ribbon, Accidental Marriage, Coming Out, Falling In Love, supportive family, Fluff, Happy Ending, the whole story is happy)

🔒 the world passes by but for me there is only you by beeswaxing (E, 82k, wangxian, canon divergence, fix-it of sorts, golden core reveal, accidental marriage, love confessions, horny teenagers, pining, fluff, everybody lives, first time)

play your love songs all night long by AlfAlfAlfAlfAlf, tardigradeschool (E, 17k, WangXian, Modern AU, Marriage of Convenience, Mutual Pining, Light Angst, Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, One Big Happy Family, Sharing a Bed, (platonically for 13 years), Therapy, in the grand tradition of the untamed most of this is flashback, Pegging, Hand Jobs, Blow Jobs, Romantic Comedy, Misunderstandings)

Only Fools Rush In by vesna (mrsronweasley) (E, 27k, WangXian, Modern, Woke Up Married, alcohol use but no sex happens while drunk, Mutual Pining, Getting Together, what happens in Vegas etc etc)

What If….. Jiang Cheng Understood? by ToxicAngel13 (M, 66k, WIP, WangXian, Ribbons, Cloud Recesses Study Arc, WangXian Get Married in the Cold Springs Cave, Protective JC, Confused WWX, Angry LWJ, Fix-It of Sorts, Good Uncle LQR, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, POV LQR, YZY Bashing, POV JFM, Not JFM Friendly, Hurt/Comfort, Protective NHS)

The Simplest Way Forward by harriet_vane (E, 70k, WangXian, Modern AU, Accidental Baby Acquisition,Kid Fic, explicit in much much later chapters, green card marriage (but not really), pining for your own husband, endless pining, Slow Burn, Happy Ending, Nothing else bad or traumatic happens to the baby, [Podfic of] The Simplest Way Forward by knight_tracer) LWJ is in love when they effectively get married for tax purposes, and WWX gets there, and of course there's lots of pining for your husband

🔒 Two Weddings and a Family Reunion by scifigeek14 (T, 36k, wangxian, canon divergence, shotgun wedding, politics, everyone lives au, fix-it, feelings realization, family feels, marriage proposal, marriage of convenience)

~*~

8. Hello! I am new to the fandom, I just finished watching the drama and I want more!!! I have been recced to your blog for fic suggestions? May I please have suggestions for canon compliant stories that are mostly light hearted (no heavy angst please)? I really enjoyed the mood in the first part of the show when all the characters were energetic and goofy teens, so perhaps some fics set then? I want more of the world, clans, costumes, etc. World building is maybe the right word? Thank you so much!

It’s Only Time by etymologyplayground (T, 8k, WangXian, Epistolary, Post-Canon, Canon Compliant, It’s About The Yearning., Getting Together, Love Confessions, Cuddling & Snuggling, Humor) this one is tagged as Post-Canon Canon Compliant so I hope it's okay

Twelve Moons and a Fortnight by stiltonbasket (M, 290k, WangXian, Humor, Slow Burn, Post-Canon Fix-It, Long-Distance Relationship, Epistolary, Love Letters, Family Feels, a-qing lives, teenage romance, Adoption, Romantic Comedy, Happy Ending, Weddings, Case Fic, Parenthood, Politics)

~*~

9. ITMF: No JGY redemption. Like, he has many choices or someone give him another path to take but he still choose the unforgivable one. I dont want it from JGY's POV. I want it to focus on WWX story like in canon i guess? Thanks!

~*~

10. For itmf, I'm craving some angst with a happy ending fics! Established relationship wangxian where they fight and/or break up and both of them are hurting a lot, but they make up and get back together. Thank you!

🔒 Wish I could forget the taste of your skin and the feel of your hands pinning me down by KizuKatana (E, 63k, wangxian, WQ & WWX & WN, Modern Cultivation, weapons-grade thirst, Getting Back Together, Trying REALLY hard to not still like your Ex, but failing, BAMF WWX, BAMF LWJ, Canon Divergence, Case Fic, LWJ’s canonically big dick, sort of a ‘thirsting for your co-worker ex’ vibe, it eventually gets worked out, Mutual Pining, Guest-starring LWJ’s canonically poor communication choices after romantic cave encounters, novel canon relationship dynamics, basically this fic is about escalating sexual tension)

estuaries by vesna (mrsronweasley) (E, 34k, wangixan, modern, breakup/makeup, pining while fucking, single dad WWX, angst w/ happy ending)

Tempo Rubato by Spodumene (E, 108k, wangxian, modern, angst w/ happy ending, romance, persuasion au, separations, pining, miscommunication, depression, self-harm, reconciliation, smut)

💖 love wakes me by dea_liberty (E, 46k, wangxian, modern, angst w happy ending, childhood sweethearts, misunderstanding, famous LWJ, coffee shop owner WWX, found families, grand romantic gestures)

~*~

11. (This part added to fic finder, fic might be decay by antebunny)

Also, if you know any fics with similar plot (like Wei Ying being forced to cleanse from RE for "his own good" and getting hurt instead), i would appreciate the recommendations! Thank you 🍁 @shellennium

~*~

12. I am hoping someone has fanfic with

A. Wei Wuxian becoming miserable after marrying into the Lan sect, a bit of lxc/lqr bashing but with them eventually realizing they were wrong, also if Wei Wuxian tries to commit suicide it would be better

B. Fanfics in which wwx doesn't want to have children but is forced because he is lwj's husband

C. Wwx having a parental figure for the first time, I don't want it to be the Jiang parents but anyone else is fine

Also, no jyl or long lwj bashing, please

12A)

Practical Considerations by teawater, the_anthropologist (E, 97k, WangXian, JC & WWX, LXC & WWX, LQR & WWX, Arranged Marriage, Canon Divergence, Found Family, Spouses to Lovers, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, Politics, Scheming, Lán Elders are assholes, BAMF WWX, BAMF LWJ, eventually BAMF LXC, learning to make decisions, Learning Self-worth, Self-Esteem Issues, Sweet Wangxian, Domestic Fluff, Fix-It, JC is a big asshole, he improves somewhat but it’s open-ended, WWX learns to stand up for himself, Quote: Come Back to Gusu With Me, POV wwx, POV LWJ, POV JC, Golden Core Reveal, Teacher wwx, Golden Core Transfer Fix-It, Alcohol as a Coping Mechanism, Past Suicidal Thoughts, Post-Sunshot Campaign, WWX Protection Squad, Feelings Realization, WWX protector of the twin jades, Protective LWJ, Protective WWX, Protective LQR, Demonic Cultivator WWX, WWX is Loved, Married WangXian, Genius WWX, Everybody Lives)

Concord by Deastar (T, 41k, WangXian, Arranged Marriage, Gusu Lan Sect Rules, Depression, Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending)

12C)

safe here with me by xcourtney_chaoticx (G, 3k, WangXian, Family Feels, Good Uncle LQR, WWX Goes to Gusu, Fluff, Childhood Friends, Friends to Lovers, Food Issues, Endgame WangXian)

Scars of Lightning by The_peregrine_falcon (T, 6k, YZY & WWX, WWX & WRH, WangXian, YZY’s A+ Parenting, Canon Divergence, Not Canon Compliant, Wen WWX, zidian, YZY is a bitch, Canon-Typical Violence, Blood and Injury, Major Character Injury, Heavy Angst, Lotus Pier, Nightless City, Young WWX, Muteness, Hurt kind of comfort)

藍色的花，紅色的蘭 {Lan se de hua, hongse de lan} by Admiranda, AshayaTReldai (M, 45k, WIP, WangXian, Orphan WWX, Friends to Lovers, Childhood Friends, wwx raised in the lan clan, softer lqr, Good Uncle LQR, Good lan clan, Good Older Sibling LXC)

🔒 crying like a fire in the sun by Reverie (cl410) (T, 10k, WangXian, SongXiao, BSSR/LY, Runaway WWX, Canon Divergence, Everyone Lives/Nobody Die, rogue cultivator WWX, Angst, Post Cloud Recesses, Not YZY Friendly, Happy Ending, BSSR is WWX’s grandmother instead of grandmaster)

Crimson leaves by barisan (T, 4k, WangXian, WWX & OFC(s), WWX Leaves the Yunmeng Jiang Sect, Rogue Cultivator WWX, WWX gets lesbian grandmothers, WWX learns about his parents, WWX is a Wen, (Through his lesbian granny but still), Getting Together, WWX Has a Fear of Dogs, Pre-Canon, Genius WWX)

All Things Belong by kuroi_atropos (M, 93k, WRH & WWX, WangXian, WN & WWX, WWX is a Wen, Abuse, Whipping, Manipulations, Warning: WRH, Smart WWX, Possessive Behavior, Warning: JGS, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Past Rape/Non-con, Society Level Victim Blaming, Victim Blaming)

~*~

13. Hii, so I'm looking for fics kinda enemies to lovers but not exactly 😅 like one of them is reluctant to get together at first? Or at least it looks like it, like in All The Roads or The earthquake in the room, both the I highly recommend btw. Thanks a lot @akutamichan

baby let’s take the long way home by plonk (Not rated, 10k, WangXian, Modern with Magic, Abortion, Mpreg, With A Twist, Enemies to Lovers)

🔒 no certainty of doors between us by betts (T, 6k, WangXian, Modern AU, College/University, Roommates, Crack Treated Seriously, Drunken Confessions, Idiots in Love, dubiously consensual spooning, Enemies to Lovers, Sharing Clothes, Hurt/Comfort, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, wwx’s casual intimacy meets lwj’s touch starvation, wwx doesn’t know they’re enemies, lwj doesn’t know they’re dating)

varied my velocities by fantasiavii (E, 58k, WangXian, Modern AU, Ballerina LWJ, Football/Soccer player WWX, Enemies to Lovers, Top WWX/Bottom LWJ, Dom WWX, Angst with a happy ending, Internalized homophobia)

🔒 The Second Jade of Lan’s late but incendiary sexual awakening by KizuKatana (E, 41k, wangxian, First Time, LWJ’s Horny Grip, LWJ does not know what hit him, and yet somehow he still realizes it before WWX, canon wangxian dynamics, college AU, LWJ starts off annoyed at WWX, But quickly discovers both his competency kink and a caretaking kink, Genius WWX)

Documented Fact by Scrippio (T, 7k, WangXian, LSZ & LJY & OYZZ, Modern with Magic, College/University, Professors, Minor Injuries, Misunderstandings, Fluff, OYZZ POV, Humor) which features married Wangxian but everyone believes they're enemies.

~*~

14. This account is a treasure!!! What I’m looking for are the post WWX resurrection fics that address Wangxian age gap. Can be fun, kinky, healing, basically anything. @feanarotherindion

Help, My Dad Is Fucking Someone My Age!! by sweetlolixo (T, 3k, WangXian, LSZ & LWJ, Canon Divergence, Humor, Crack, Fluff, Romance)

~*~

15. I recently read fic While covered in mud by merthurlin. And I really love badass Huaisang who takes matters into his own hands earlier in the story. Is there any more fic where Huaisang went into Burial Mounds like that? Or just awesome badass scary Huaisang in general. I have huge need to read some badass Huaisang who will get recognized for his mastery too.

Story-Shaped by lingering_song (T, 13k, NHS & WWX, wangxian, Post-Canon, Chief Cultivator LWJ, Inventor WWX, Found Family, NHS needs a new hobby, And apparently that’s spoiling his Wei-Xiong, Mentioned Character Death, Alcohol, Protective NHS, WangXian Endgame, Not JC Friendly, Not particularly gentry sects friendly overall tbh)

💖 demons run when a good man goes to warby Miranda_Aurelia (T, 20k, wangxian, LWJ & NHS, JYL/JZX, canon divergence, angst w happy ending, NHS & LWJ friendship, not JGY friendly, dark LWJ, revenge, (presumed) major character death, not LXC friendly)

The Lost Cause by KouriArashi (T, 18k, JGY & NHS, Canon Divergence, Fix-It, Murder Bros, NHS is a boss bitch, JGY is a hot mess, Everybody Lives, except the people who suck, (lookin at you JGS and JZN))

The Threads of Fate by WaitForTheSnitch (E, 78k, WangXian, WIP, Time Travel Fix-It, Canon Divergence, Not Everyone Dies, Cloud Recesses Study Arc, Cloud Recesses Shenanigans, Good Uncle LQR, Protective LWJ, WangXian Get a Happy Ending, Pining LWJ, WWX in WWX's Body, JC & WWX Reconciliation, is it reconciliation if WWX doesn't know they were estranged?, Oblivious WWX, WWX Deserves Better, WWX Deserves Happiness, Siblings JC & WWX, Supportive JYL, Protective NHS, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Comic Book Science) If the requester doesn't mind a WIP, the frequently updating The Threads of Fate is another good one that features a brilliant Nie Huaisang.

~*~

16. itmf for fics where lan wangji is very forward? in terms of flirting or expressing his adoration/ attraction for wei wuxian

can be canon or au or even modern au!

(just no side jc/wq please)

🔒Tangible by apathyinreverie (T, 2k, WangXian, Cloud Recesses Study Arc, Canon Divergence, Fluff, Humor, Possessive LWJ, First Kiss, Getting Together, the library scene)

Tripped at Every Step by brooklinegirl (E, 28k, WangXian)

dream of a funeral; hear of a marriage by defractum (nyargles) (T, 36k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Happy Ending, Domestic Fluff, First Time, Fluff and Humor)

loveliness by orphan_account (T, 1k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Love Confessions, First Kiss, Pining, Teen Romance, Getting Together)

body and soul by TooSel (E, 41k, wangxian, Canon Divergence, Fix-It, Marriage Proposal, Everyone Lives AU, Cultivation Sect Politics, Yílíng Wèi Sect AU, Adoption, Smut, Friends to Lovers, Angst with a Happy Ending)

💖 Echo, Murmur, Dream, Here by bluerainmist (M, 51k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Universe Alteration, the yiling patriarch survives, Angst with a Happy Ending, Catharsis, Slow Burn, Drama, Getting Together, Romance, Hurt/Comfort, Melancholy, Love, Mutual Pining, Reunions, Love Confessions, Eventual Smut, Blow Jobs, Anal Sex, Switching, Grief/Mourning, fucking while pining, Implied/Referenced Torture, Self-Harm, golden core transfer, Playing fast and loose with worldbuilding, Battle Scenes, Canon-Typical Violence, Canonical Character Death, implied / Referenced suicide attempt, Sect Leader WWX, YLLZ WWX, Yílíng Wèi Sect)

❤️ Standing Engagement by x_los (M, 18k, wangxian, misunderstandings, accidental engagement, sunshot campaign, golden core reveal, accidental relationship, WQ lives, everyone lives au, Mojo’s post)

Give Me One Good Honest Kiss by thunderwear (T, 1k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, First Kiss, horny LWJ agenda, LXC is suffering in LQR’s name, [PODFIC] Give Me One Good Honest Kiss by thunderwear)

~*~

17. ITMF where WWX agree to come to gusu in exchange of wen remnants protection. I want WWX accept the lan condirion to lock him up. I want him to live lifelessly/aphatic/just living because he is nit dead yet. Or maybe like in Always walked a very thin line by tucuxi.

Bonus if LWJ/LXC/LQR managed to make WWX scream at them and tell them whats wrong with him in anger. Thanks

The Forsaken Jade Statue by SaiaiSaiko (Not Rated, 7k, WangXian, Curse Breaking, Curses, WWX Goes to Gusu, Dark Gusu Lan Sect Imprisonment, Seclusion as Imprisonment, YLLZ WWX, Older LWJ, Older LXC, Cursed LWJ, petrification, Hopeful Ending) Wei Wuxian in 'Seclusion' for the Wen's protection and stumbling over Lan Wangji cursed to be a statue

~*~

If you didn’t get an answer to your ask here, don’t forget to make use of @mdzs-kinkmeme and MDZS KINK MEME on Dreamwidth. Authors actually do use them for ideas. You may get what you order!***Your prompt doesn’t have to be kink! Fluff, crack, whatever - it’s all good!***

[fanaticsnail]

my heart?! anon?! snail?! why must you hurt me so?!?!?! i demand (gently, in an easily refuse-able way) a fluffy bandaid!!!!

in the same style as kiss, marry, kill- have! 'realising you're in love', 'requited pining (they're idiots your honor)', and 'confession'! Either with the original three or... hmm -narrows eyes- kid, luffy, and torao.

the choice is yours (in multiple aspects) just ;w; owwww asldjkgljdfgklfd - @remisloves

How about some longing from Eustass Kid, Remi? I don't think I have it in me for the other two, but I could do some longing from Kid before I dive right back into writing his pollen.

Longing

Masterlist Here

Word Count: 880+

Synopsis: Eustass Kid doesn't know how to behave around you, especially now that he's developed feelings for you.

Themes: Kid x reader, pining, longing, yearning, wanting, desiring, dancing, drinking, Kid is gonna do something about it soon enough, platonic!heat x reader, confessions of love.

Notes: I broke my own heart by writing "Kiss, Marry, Kill" with a few of my favorites. I wanted to see what some fluffy longing would look like on Kid to make up for my sadess.

Sitting at the head of the lengthy dining table in the center of the tavern, the captain of the crew of the Victoria Punk sang and drank in full merriment. Another successful victory had come at the swift hand of his gaggle of misfits, and he was none other than the proudest of leaders. 

As the music began to swell, several members of the crew got up to dance with one another. Bubblegum took Quincy by the hand and twirled her into himself with lazy joy in his chuckle. Quincy began to sway her hips to the beat and tap her toes with a simple ease, all with a wide smile on her lips. 

The melody turned deeper, grungier, and with heavier beaten drums to match. Swinging hips and swirling arms, the crew began to dance a little closer. This normally would never bother him. As a captain, he enjoyed watching his crew build rapport with one another. 

What he didn't anticipate was the way his heart jumped up to his throat when he met his caramel-colored gaze with your body. Sultry grinding motions, and tugging his fire-breather by the belt at his hips towards the dance floor, your smile mirrored Heat’s as he laced his arms around your neck and gazed playfully in your eyes. 

It was no secret that Kid was fond of you as his counselor. You were his second closest confidant after Killer, and he adored you. He loved the way you kept him in line and level headed. He loved when you smiled, it lit up the whole room. He loved how caring and thoughtful you were with each of his crewmen, catering to their individual personalities and complex needs with ease and compassion. 

He loved you. 

As you released Heat’s belt and turned in his arms to lean your back into him, Kid almost jumped out of his chair and growled at Heat for raking his hands down your hips. Heat tugged you firmly back into his pelvis, you both rocked your hips from side to side and laughed at how easy it was to dance to the beat with one another.

Kid watched on in anguish, his face betraying his emotions and a forlorn expression plastered on his painted lips. As he turned back to his ale, he felt a firm hand clap on his shoulder. Turning to his first-mate, Killer tilted his mask to the side and angled his chin down. 

“Yeah, yeah,” Kid said, shrugging off his scythe-wielding best friend’s hand, “I know you're smirkin’ under there, big guy. Shut up.”

“I didn't say anything-,” Killer began, halting when his captain cut him off with a growling warning. 

“-It was a preemptive ‘shut up,’ Kil,” Kid barked, raising his tankard and taking a hefty gulp of his ale, “A ‘shut up,’ just in case you were gonna say somethin’ stupid.” He mumbled, turning his gaze back to where you and Heat were now facing one another. 

“And what stupid thing was I gonna say, Cap?” Killer’s smirk was felt in every word, much to Kid’s chagrin. The Red-Haired captain turned his shoulders and shifted his stance to flare directly in the beady holes in Killer’s blue and white mask. 

“I dunno, man. Somethin’ like: ‘You’re in love with the ship's counselor and you're too much of a coward to do anythin’ about it’,” Kid mocked in a voice not unlike the first-mate, which prompted Killer to give him a playful punch in the shoulder. 

“And what then?” Killer added, raising his ale beneath the edge of his mask and taking a quick, sneaky sip, “What would you say to this ‘something stupid’, hm?” Killer teased his captain, nudging him with his shoulder. 

Kid took a final gaze at you as you turned to meet your eyes with him. As soon as your orbs met with his, Eustass Kid felt a tug on his heartstrings in a way he could not describe. Something between wanting, craving, and longing. 

“I would say you’re right, Kil,” Kid spoke in a voice so low that Killer had to strain his ears to hear that weighty confession. “I’m in love with my counselor.” You shot him a soft wink before turning back to your dance partner, inviting Wire into your twirling and shimmying. 

“And what are you gonna do about it, Cap?” Killer urged him on, kicking his shin with his boot-heel and breaking Kid out of his momentary hypnosis. Kid pondered for a moment, shamelessly raking his eyes over your body as you urged Heat and Wire towards the bar and attempt to get the barkeeper’s attention. 

“I think I’m gonna get another drink at the bar,” he hummed, a slow grin tugging up at his cheeks as he noticed your casual gaze at him over your shoulder, “And then I’m gonna dance with my counselor some. Show 'em how it's really done.”

Captain Kid downed the last of his tankard before sliding the chair out from beneath him, kicking it back and uncaring as to where it landed. Stomping over towards the bar, he hooked his right arm around your waist and tugged you to press your left hip against his right before ordering another round for his crew with a grinning bark.

“Go get ‘em, Cap,” Killer whispered under his breath before bobbing his head to the new beat.

[elronds-meleth-nin]

Granted An Audience

This is way longer than I intended it to be when I started it back in *checks draft date* JUNE OF LAST YEAR (?!), but it's still a oneshot. There's already a sequel itching to come out of my brain!

Cross-posted to AO3 here.

~*~

High King Gil-Galad x Reader

[A/N: This is fluff.]

Warnings: Attraction at first sight, idiots in love, they both think their love is unrequited, but it's very requited, this is either pre-Rings of Power or just in a separate AU where none of that plot happens, pre-relationship, they're both so so so in love yet neither of them can see how in love the other is, dw the idiots do eventually smooch.

~*~

Two years after Elrond extended his invitation to visit Lindon, I finally got the chance to make the journey. Accompanied by only my horse, my bow, and my wits, I crossed the border into Elvish territory in less time than I'd anticipated. The sweet scent of flowers mixed with the aromatic tree bark floated upon the breeze creating a heady perfume. The gentle rustling of leaves softened the sound of my horse's trotting hooves as I approached the gate.

"Who goes there?" A guard called down from the tower, and I pulled Elrond's letter from within my saddlebag.

"I come at the invitation of Elrond, Herald to the High King," I answered, and once through, I dismounted and gave my name so that word might be sent ahead to my friend. My letter was inspected, as well as the seal, and the guard eventually gave a nod of approval. After I'd retrieved my bag, my horse was led away to the stables to be tended, and I made my way toward the palace with a pair of guards as an escort.

I was led through several winding halls toward an antechamber that resembled more closely a ballroom. I was left to my own devices after being told that my friend had been summoned and would join me when he was able. Despite the urgency of my task, waiting was no burden, not in a place like this.

Once alone, I allowed my curiosity to get the better of me, wandering the length of the room and admiring the sheer magnificence of the craftsmanship. The beauty of this place was undeniable. Even the windows were finely-made, their frames delicately carved and inlaid with gilt details.

So engrossed was I with the grandeur surrounding me, I did not bother to keep track of how long I'd been there. Eventually, though, the door did open to reveal my friend wearing a large, warm smile.

"Mellon-nín, I am pleased beyond words that you have come to Lindon," the Ellon called giving me a very formal bow which I answered with a curtsy.

Valar, I must have looked wind-swept and worse for wear. My riding leathers were nearing the end of their usefulness, my boots should have been replaced nearly three seasons ago, and my skirt had dried mud staining the hem. Despite my less-than-elegant appearance, Elrond swept me up in an embrace as soon as I was within arm's reach. The softness of his robes and tunic felt almost foreign beneath my fingertips. Our village produced nothing of such fine quality in terms of clothing.

"And I am more pleased than I can express to be here, though, I must admit, only half of my motivation was for pleasure," I admitted as he finally pulled back and grasped my hands.

"No matter. You are here, regardless of your reasons, and I fear I must warn you that I will be making every excuse to spend time with you," he murmured, and I couldn't help the huff of laughter that escaped me. He tucked my arm into the crook of his elbow, and I followed him deeper into the maze of hallways. How strange a pair we must've appeared! "So, if the pleasure of my company is only one half of the reason you chose to visit, what is the other half?"

I took a deep breath and looked up at my friend.

"I...need to beg an audience with the High King. Rather desperately, actually." At that, my friend paused and looked at me, concern etched in his features. "I know your king is busy, and I'm just a mortal from a small village, but it is an official petition. I have no idea how to approach requesting an audience, but–"

"Fear not, I shall make all the arrangements for you, but I do hope you know that I am always here should you require counsel. Carrying the concerns of a whole village is no easy task, and I am more than happy to listen." I couldn't help but smile at his offer. "How long will you you be staying?"

"Only as long as it takes to meet with your king. Assuming all goes well and that he is able to see me today, I expect I shall be leaving tomorrow morning," I answered, and at the disappointment in his expression, I laid my hands on Elrond's shoulders. "I am truly sorry, mellon-nín. My next visit will be longer, I promise."

He sighed and covered my wrists with his large, warm hands.

"I trust it will not be two more years before you call here again?"

I shook my head wanting to rid him of his sadness.

"Only a few weeks, I should think. A month, at most," I assured him, and he gave a reluctant smile.

"Very well, I am appeased. For now." A mischievous smile stretched his lips. "If, however, you do not keep to your word, I shall ask Gil-Galad to send his guards to fetch you. And I should like to have breakfast with you upon the morrow."

"Assuming you can handle the sight of me first thing in the morning, I agree to your terms," I teased, and he drew me into his arms once more. "I truly am sorry that it has been so long, my friend. Oh, Valar, I have missed you."

"'Tis no matter. You are here now." Dismissing my concerns with a wave of his hand, Elrond escorted me around the palace, pointing out things he believed would interest me. Gorgeous sculptures and tapestries accented the already lavish palace.

After our brief tour, he showed me to the rather opulent room I'd been given for the night and excused himself to set up my audience with the High King. I took the chance to tidy myself up as much as I was able. It would not do to face King Gil-Galad looking as exhausted as I felt from my journey.

Mere hours later, when Elrond led me to the High King, I fought hard not to gasp in awe at how beautiful the locale was. Rays of light spread from the setting sun, trickling through a canopy of golden leaves. Upon a large, slanted plane of land stood an enormous tree, ancient and strong with roots that delved deep into the nearby soil. It's own leaves were larger than the rest.

So enveloped was I in the breathtaking beauty of my surroundings that, in truth, I did not see him at first. There, beside that beautiful, ancient tree was a tall Ellon - one of the Noldor, if I trusted my memory of what Elrond had taught me - wrapped in silk robes the same glorious shade as the foliage above him. In his lustrous black hair was a golden crown that resembled tall, proud leaves wrapping around the back of his head.

"My king, I present to you a representative from the village of men just south of our borders, a dear friend of mine," Elrond called introducing me by name, and as the Ellon turned, I froze. He was magnificence embodied.

High King Gil-Galad's eyes stole the breath from my lungs. They were curious, intrigued, and so incredibly warm despite their depth of color. His lips, so soft and perfect, parted when he caught sight of the mortal in his court. After a breathless beat, I dropped into the lowest curtsy I could manage, just barely able to tear my eyes away from him.

Elrond hadn't warned me that his king was so striking that he was practically ethereal!

"Welcome, my lady, to Lindon." Oh, Valar, even his voice was gorgeous! When he spoke, his words were low and as silken as his robes, stirring the already quite active swarm of butterflies in my stomach into a frenzy. "Not often does my herald endorse a person's character so fully. I am pleased to have such an upstanding guest grace my court."

"Thank you, your grace," I murmured, hating how shaky my own voice was in comparison. Elrond bowed and excused himself so that we could speak privately, and I straightened out of my curtsy, hoping that by doing so I wasn't causing any sort of offense. When I looked up again, the High King was several steps closer than he had been. How did the Eldar move so silently? "I can only apologize for arriving without any prior warning. Truly, I intended no slight–"

He stopped the flow of words from my lips with a single raised hand.

"No apologies are necessary, I assure you, my lady." The small, gentle smile that tugged at his lips sent my heart skittering in my chest. "Elrond has told me that your people's need is urgent. How may I be of assistance?"

Taking a steadying breath, I nodded my head.

"Your grace, our village has been self-sufficient for almost as long as we have existed. We have been quite proud of that fact, however, our pride must, in future, bow to other needs," I began. "The field where our medicinal herbs grow - the ones for our poultices, tinctures, and remedies - was struck by a blight earlier this year. Barring an emergency, we have enough to last until the leaves turn, but once the cold months arrive, I fear we shall be rather desperate."

The High King tilted his head slightly to the side.

"If your need is that great, what of the village just to your east? They are closer, by far. Can they not assist you?"

Just barely resisting the urge to look away at his rightfully suspicious question, I rallied my courage.

"No, your grace. Our village cut ties with theirs when they sided with Sauron during the last war. We would much rather establish ties with Lindon than with those who consort with darkness." Hoping against hope that the Elven king would see fit to at least listen to my proposal, I lifted my small bag from where it rested at my hip. "We are prepared to negotiate fairly for the supplies we need. The elders of our village were not certain what your people might ask from us in return, but I have with me several samples of our craftsmanship and the authority with which to establish such a trade."

Gil-Galad walked smoothly, serenely over to me and offered his arm just as Elrond had.

"Come, my lady. My study would be a much more comfortable place for lengthy discussions of business. Let us speak of this there," he said, and as I accepted and grasped his arm, I thought for a single, delirious moment that his eyes had dipped down to my lips. He walked with the unparalleled grace of his people. His steps were as soundless as clouds, but he ensured that his stride did not exceed my own.

And his scent! I knew not whether he was wearing perfumed oils, but I was close enough to him in those few moments to be enveloped by something herbal and soothing. When we reached his study, I regretted having to release my hold on him.

The room itself was larger than the average study, perhaps, but less grandiose than I would have expected from royalty. There were still bits of gold gilt around the window frames and dotted across various bits of decor, but here it seemed that wood was the ruling design choice. Warm hues on the walls and plush chairs unified the overall atmosphere of the room, coaxing away some of my tension. In the light of the setting sun, the room with all its books and cozy nooks in which one could read made me want to do just that for the rest of my days.

"Please, be seated. Make yourself comfortable," Gil-Galad said, and I thanked him quietly as I perched on the edge of the divan closest to me. The High King removed his outer robe, draping it over the back of an armchair. He spared me a glance as he did so, undoubtedly taking in my stiff posture. "Are you uneasy, my lady?"

Embarrassment dried my mouth so that I was forced to swallow as I looked away from him.

"I mean no offense, your grace, but...I must admit that I am a bit nervous," I admitted, fiddling with one of my sleeves. "I have never spoken with a king before today. I do not wish to make a fool of myself or unintentionally cause you insult."

After a moment's silence, soft, near-silent footsteps approached the bookshelf beside the king's desk.

"Then, perhaps the most pragmatic solution would be for you to think of me as Ereinion only, and no longer consider my title," he murmured with a sly smile. Before I could ask what he meant, he removed the glimmering crown from his head and laid it aside on his bookshelf. Spreading his arms wide, he lifted his eyebrows as if to ask my opinion.

"Much less intimidating." At my praise, he moved to sit beside me on the divan. His thigh just barely brushed against mine, and I hoped that I was not blushing quite as obviously as I felt that I was.

"To business, then," he said, and I carefully emptied my little bag, laying each item carefully upon the small table before us.

"We have a few leatherworkers who are quite skilled at their craft. Our bladesmith cannot possibly match the craftsmanship of your own smiths, but he is the best among men that I have yet seen..."

Showing the king each item in turn - a hand-tooled leather sheath, a jeweled dagger, and many other examples of what our people were capable of producing - I answered as many of his questions as I possibly could. The final item I extracted from my bag was a small wooden statue of a bird in flight. At the sight, Gil-Galad's eyes practically sparkled with interest, and I felt my breath hitch in my chest as he very gently took it from my hands.

"This is exquisite. I had no idea your village produced artists." He sounded amazed as he inspected it curiously. The High King held it as if he was afraid it might shatter in his grasp. "We, of course, have our own artists, but this...I particularly enjoy the style. It is entirely different when compared with our own endeavors."

"Ah, well, thank you. The elders did not believe..." I took a steadying breath and tried again, but he seemed not to notice my stammering. "That is to say, woodwork is just a hobby of mine. I wasn't sure if my skills were worthy of offering as part of the trade, but in any case, I wanted to offer you at least some small token of my gratitude for taking the time to listen to our needs."

The High King looked at me curiously.

"You made this for me, my lady?" I nodded my head, and the look he gave me was one so soft and appreciative that I couldn't bring myself to feel guilty for not having disclosed my intent to do so to the council of elders. "You have my sincerest gratitude. Such a gesture was not necessary, I assure you, but I appreciate your efforts, truly. This shall rest in a place of honor."

Walking swiftly to his desk, he removed a bauble of some sort from a small stand at its corner. In its place, he set the little bird I'd made, relocating the other item to his bookshelf.

"My lady, concerning your current dilemma, I wish to make this trade as painless as possible for your people. You are already being forced to make a significant change by depending upon others for your medical needs. To that end, have you any athelas in your village?" Gil-Galad asked as he turned to face me once more.

"Athelas?"

"You might know it as kingsfoil. It is, by many, considered a weed, but my people have found ways to utilize it. It does not grow in sufficient quantities here, however."

"Oh! Yes, it grows in several fields across our village. In fact, the hill behind my home is covered with it. We have no use for the plant, but the little flowers it produces can be quite pretty."

"In that case, I have a counter-proposal. In exchange for half of the athelas plants that grow in your village, we would happily provide the medical supplies you require." I blinked in surprise. That was so much easier than I had anticipated. "Would that be agreeable?"

"Y-Yes. Oh, yes, your grace, but I cannot help feeling as though your people would be shafted by such an agreement," I protested as he resumed his seat beside me. Surely he wanted more than just a field of weeds?

With a small smile, the king lifted one of my hands between both of his.

"Your concern is admirable and refreshingly honest, my lady. Very well, I shall amend my terms thus: you shall have your supplies in exchange for the aforementioned quantity of athelas and a series of your gorgeous carvings." He looked thoroughly pleased with his own suggestion even as I was thoroughly stunned.

"I am quite certain the council of elders would be more than content with such an arrangement, but are you certain that is fair compensation for your people?"

"Absolutely, my lady. Do you accept?" I nodded my head mutely, and he placed a soft kiss atop the back of my hand. "Excellent. I shall have the terms drawn up in the morning. Assuming you wish more time with my herald, a messenger will be sent back to your village with the terms of our agreement so that you need not hasten home immediately. Lindon's hospitality, accommodation, and protection are yours for as long as you desire it."

I'd thought that once our negotiation was complete, the king would dismiss me so that he could return to his duties or pleasures. Instead, however, he struck up conversation. Asking about our village, its people, and even about me. In turn, he indulged my curiosity about Lindon, going so far as to offer me a personal tour when I inevitably returned to make those carvings for him.

Eventually, we both realized that the sun had set. We'd been talking for several hours. I apologized profusely for taking up so much of his time, but he merely waved me off and said that it had been his privilege. I couldn't find the courage to say so, but the privilege had been mine. Speaking with a courteous, charming Ellon in close quarters for such an extended period of time was more than a person of my station could ever deserve.

"Perhaps, as a final courtesy, my lady, you would allow a small, unofficial addition to our agreement: have your evening meal with me upon the morrow," the High King said as we paused by the door of his study. He lifted my hands to his lips, pressing a featherlight kiss onto my knuckles without breaking eye contact. My heart thudded rapidly in my chest.

"I-I would be honored, your grace."

The smile he gave me in return made my knees go weak, yet somehow I managed to curtsy politely and wish him a good night. His gaze followed me to the end of the hallway, fading only when I turned the corner.

I found Elrond quite by accident in a hall not far from the king's chambers. Smiling widely when he saw me, he closed the little book he'd been reading by the light of the brazier near his bench.

"Ah, there you are, mellon. I'd begun to wonder if you would ever emerge," he said offering me his hand. I took it and sat beside him on the little cushioned seat.

I lifted my eyebrows.

"You never told me that the High King of Lindon was like that," I muttered, and he blinked in confusion before glancing down at my hands.

"You're shaking. Were his negotiations harsh?" Bless him, he sounded concerned for me, but I just shook my head as he grasped my fingers.

"No, we came to an agreement in just a few minutes."

"But...?" Perplexed, he gave my fingers a small squeeze. "Hours have passed. Forgive me, mellon-nín, but I don't understand."

"Afterwards, we talked and lost track of time. He...I..." I struggled in an attempt to find the right words to say, but the sentiment that escaped me was entirely inadequate to describe the pounding of my heart when Gil-Galad had looked at me. "I have never met anyone like him."

After a moment's pause, Elrond smiled widely enough that I was quite certain he'd understood even that which I had not dared to voice.

"I thought you both seemed rather frozen when I introduced you. Was it his eyes that captured your interest first?" His question was mischievous and playful, a perfect match for the twinkle in his eye. "Maybe his dark, silken hair? Or perhaps his regal figure?"

At his teasing, I let out a helpless laugh and dropped my forehead onto his shoulder. The herald's arms wrapped around me, and his own warm laughter melted gently with my own. We sat quietly for some time before he spoke again.

"I am so pleased for you, my dear friend. You and Gil-Galad are well-suited," Elrond murmured, but as my mood sobered, I let out a small sigh and leaned back far enough to look at him.

"I'm mortal, in case you've forgotten. A mortal peasant would never have a chance with an Elven king. Certainly, if the beauty of your kind has not caught his eye in all this time, I never could. More likely, he is entertained by the novelty of my presence in Lindon. I am no more than a fish out of water here."

Elrond looked at me with disappointment lingering in his eyes.

"If that truly was the case, mellon, he would not have spent so much time with you. If, as you believe, he had no interest, he would have had you escorted to your chambers as soon as your business was concluded." His hands rested upon my shoulders and he looked into my eyes. "I do wish that you would not deny yourself the kindness you give so freely to others. You are just as deserving of it."

When I finally retired to bed in my temporary chambers, Elrond had managed to bolster my spirits just enough for my dreams to be filled with golden leaves, flowing dark hair, and soft lips against mine.

--

In the morning, I found my friend at my door. We walked through the halls and out into the beautiful morning sunlight. Dew glittered upon the windowpanes, sparkling as we passed.

"Perhaps after I show you a bit more of Lindon, we could share our evening meal. I could tell you more about your future suitor, if you like?" I gave him a gentle shove that, frustratingly, moved him not one step out of alignment from his path. "What?"

"'Tis cruel to tease me about events which will never occur," I muttered feigning insult. "Besides, I...already agreed to a dinner invitation tonight and will be quite unavailable."

Elrond looked at me sharply.

"Oh? Who has beaten me?" He sounded utterly perplexed.

"...The High King of Lindon," I answered quietly, and Elrond tugged me gently to a stop, turning me to face him.

"You did not tell me that he invited you to dine with him!"

"It was part of the trade agreement...sort of," I hedged, trying to mask my excitement and nerves beneath the mere facts.

"Requested by you or by him?"

I paused and glanced away.

"By the king." My voice was barely more than a whisper, but triumph was still visible in Elrond's gleeful smile.

"You see? He must like you enormously for him to make such a request. Mellon-nín, Gil-Galad dines alone unless absolutely necessary. Even I am only seldom asked to join him, and I am his herald." Elrond grasped my shoulders lightly. "He has provided for your stay here, he has sent a messenger to your village so that you need not return immediately, he has invited you to dinner, he even spent several hours speaking to you when I am quite certain he had other duties upon which he could have expended his effort..."

When he put it that way, the glimmer of hope that Elrond had inspired within me the night before bubbled up my throat once more and tugged my lips into a tentative smile.

"Still, I expect it was just a diplomatic courtesy," I hedged, and Elrond rolled his eyes good-naturedly.

"Oh, for the love of the Valar," he muttered looping his arm with mine again. "Come, let us begin our day before you try to convince me that he secretly despises you - which, before you get any ideas, is an utter impossibility."

According to Elrond, Lindon had many markets, and when we came upon the one nearest the palace, I felt as though I'd stepped into a far off land. Ornate, sophisticated stalls were everywhere, laden with jewels and fine blades, shimmering fabric and rich clothing. Guards stood between each, but their presence didn't seem to be necessary. Every single Ellon and Elleth I saw was on their best behavior, exchanging coin and trading goods fairly and without conflict.

Just as my friend had begun to lead me through the veritable maze of vendors, one of the guards approached us, calling my name.

"Forgive my interruption, my lady, my lord Herald, but I come with a message from High King Gil-Galad," she said looking between myself and Elrond. "For the duration of your stay, if there is anything you need or desire, the king shall see it done. Thus, should anything from the market catch your eye, not a coin shall you exchange. All vendors shall be compensated by the crown, and each has been notified as such."

My jaw dropped.

"I-I...That is very kind of His Majesty, but truly, I could not possibly..." I trailed off looking helplessly at Elrond, only to find him smiling rather smugly down at me.

"We none of us can defy an order from our High King," he said, and in the absence of any more coherent words, I looked between him and the guard and thanked her quietly. She gave us both a bow and resumed her post beside a stall specializing in horse-riding accoutrements. Leather saddles and bridles that looked as though they belonged in the High King's own stables adorned nearly every bit of free space, and behind the counter, the vendor was shaping a bit of leather that looked like a stirrup. "Are you alright?"

I looked at my friend with shock undoubtedly still coloring my expression.

"Why would...he...?" I stammered a bit, and Elrond lifted his eyebrows.

"You know very well why. Now, let us go find something to eat that will sustain us for your tour - courtesy of your suitor, of course," he teased, pulling me gently through the crowd. I would seriously need to speak with the High King when we met later that evening.

After a bit of wandering, we found ourselves nibbling on honey glazed buns from one of Elrond's favorite bakers. I had tried to convince the Ellon in question to allow me to pay for our breakfast, but with a gentle smile he dismissed my offer, citing the desire not to incur his king's frustration. Entirely understandable, but my conscience demanded that I at least make the attempt.

"I do not mean to speak out of turn," Elrond began after a bit, "but perhaps we ought to obtain a new pair of boots for you. After all, are yours not currently being held together by sheer luck?"

Of course he'd noticed that the soles were beginning to detach from the heels...and that I'd attempted to further prolong their lifespan with some slightly less than artistic twine.

"Absolutely not," I answered, and his brow furrowed.

"Why? You needn't cover the cost yourself. The king–"

"That's precisely why I can't. He's already been much kinder to me than my station warrants. I could not possibly, in good conscience, allow him to cover the cost of something I ought to have replaced myself nearly a year ago," I explained, but Elrond gave me a stern look.

"And what am I to tell him when he asks why you bought next to nothing in one of our finest markets? How do you believe he will react when I tell him that you desperately need a new pair of boots and you did not feel as though you could purchase them here?" He asked looking at me rather pointedly. "I am quite familiar with Gil-Galad. He would send Lindon's finest cobbler - the one he himself favors - to your village and have boots made in every possible variety that you might enjoy. No, my friend, it is better to simply purchase a single pair now, lest you nudge our High King inadvertently toward a much more extravagant purchase."

I was silent for a long moment, trying to determine whether he was bluffing.

He wasn't.

"Fine, but I don't intend to tax his coffers beyond a simple, sturdy pair of boots," I stipulated, but my friend gave me an incredulous look.

"Mellon-nín, have you seen our king's wardrobe? A dozen pairs of the most extravagant boots would not even begin to tax his pockets," he reassured me as he led us toward a stall laden with fine footwear. A few moments later, we left with a purchase slip in hand and a delivery scheduled for that evening. I'd tried to keep the cost low, but the cobbler simply lifted his eyebrows and told me not to worry myself over it.

That was not a particularly reassuring statement when I was actively trying not to become further indebted to the High King. In hindsight, I should have known that Gil-Galad was not burdened with such concerns. After wandering the market for a while, Elrond tugged me over to a merchant who was selling beautifully-crafted jewelry, far beyond even the finest quality I'd ever before seen.

As we perused his wares - Elrond searching for a congratulatory gift for Commander Galadriel's return, and I simply amazed by the splendor laid before me - a thin, delicate necklace caught my eye. The pale, white gold chain was strung through a pendant of the clearest sapphire I'd ever seen. Knowing that smaller chains were more difficult to forge, I was terrified to ask the price.

"Have you found something you desire, my lady?" The jeweler asked. Startled that I'd been observed, I plastered a smile on my face. The last thing I needed was for something this expensive to be charged to the palace. What would the High King think?

"Oh, um, nothing in particular," I hedged, "but your work is splendid."

The Ellon gave me a gracious smile.

"Thank you, my lady, however many of the pieces in this collection were made in Eregion," he explained moving closer and pointing out a few pieces in particular. "I am responsible for a few bracelets, cloak pins, and rings only. The necklace you were glancing at was actually made by Lord Celebrimbor."

"The Celebrimbor?" I could've slapped myself for blurting something so obvious. The merchant merely nodded his head indulgently.

"Indeed, my lady. Lord Celebrimbor and our High King are close friends. It is only because of that friendship that I am allowed to present his creations here," he stated before another customer inquired about the price of an emerald cloak pin. With a final glance at the dainty little necklace forged by the Greatest of the Elven Smiths, I turned to Elrond.

"Did you find what you were looking for?" I asked, and my friend gleefully nodded his head, stowing a velvet drawstring bag in the little satchel at his side. Looping my arm through his once more so that I would not be lost in the throng of Elves swirling through the market, we continued on.

By the time he returned me to my chambers to prepare for dinner, Elrond had shown me many beautiful places throughout the city, including a gorgeous wooded area which housed his favorite tree. Apparently, he'd composed many speeches for the king there amidst its branches. As the sunlight streamed in and caressed our faces, I could easily see why he enjoyed it so much.

I froze when I opened my door, however, and Elrond looked at me curiously.

"What is it, mellon-nín?" He asked, but when he followed my gaze to the box atop the bed, he urged me inside with a smirk. The note lying atop it was closed with the High King's seal. "Shall I read it to you?"

"If you wish." Ceding the note to his eager grasp, I began working on the knotted ribbons holding the box shut. The herald cleared his throat and began reading aloud.

"'My lady: I hope you will forgive the whim of an overeager host. I thought you might like to experience the gentle caress of the creations made by Lindon's finest tailors. On my honor, no offense will be taken should you choose not to indulge my impulsiveness. No matter your decision, I look forward to your company this evening,'" Elrond smiled widely as he read. "'My fondest regards and with great anticipation, Ereinion.' He's already signing his letters so informally? He truly does like you, mellon. Now, what did he send you?"

Removing the lid, I gasped at the gown that lay within. As deep in hue as young, unaged, purple wine, embroidered around the hem with silver roses, and adorned with glittering white gems, the garment was finer than any I had yet seen. As there had been no fitting, the dress had a series of wraps and ties that both served to secure it and added to the overall design.

Gil-Galad wanted me to have this?

"Shall I fetch a handmaid to help, or would you be comfortable with my assistance, mellon?" Elrond asked dragging me out of my stunned silence.

"You would help me?"

"Of course! What sort of a friend would I be if I did not help you prepare for your courtship with the High King?"

--

I found Gil-Galad in his formal dining hall, wearing dark, luxuriantly soft robes that were the same hue as the dress he'd gifted me. The sleeves were adorned with little silver embellishments and roses. The inherent sentimentality of the gesture stirred traitorous hope deep in my heart. I was certainly reading too much into his actions.

"My lady, I am honored that you have indulged my last-minute whim." Who would not humor him when his eyes sparkled so brightly in the candlelight? Why would I ever wish to deny him when he smiled so joyfully at having received a favorable response? I'd wear the most ridiculous of garments if only to encourage him to smile at me like that for even a mere moment longer.

"The honor is entirely mine, your grace," I murmured, but with a huff of laughter, he gave me a mock-stern, teasing glare.

"Now, now. 'Ereinion' only. Please, my lady." It was then that I noticed a distinct lack of a crown upon his head. Without it, he somehow managed to appear both relaxed and resplendent, as if he would be equally comfortable upon his throne or curled up beside a fireplace reading a book into the wee hours of the morning. He was awe-inspiring for a mortal like myself, yet he behaved as though was no more than an Ellon having dinner with a new friend.

Sated only by my acquiescence to his request, Ereinion held out my chair for me like a gentleman. What truly surprised me, though, was his dismissal of his retainers and his insistence upon serving me himself.

How many mortals could claim that the High King had served them dinner personally? By all rights, our roles should've been reversed, but Ereinion wouldn't hear of me lifting a finger. He was so swift and delicate with his movements that once he'd engaged me in conversation, I hardly noticed them. I did, of course, because it was still incredibly strange to see a king serving a commoner.

As the evening progressed, I found myself increasingly at ease, despite being in the company of royalty. Discussion flowed effortlessly between us. Pride swirled within me every time I was able to make him laugh, but there was something more I needed to express.

"Ereinion?"

"Yes, gil-nín?" I hesitated, tilting my head, but he only smiled at my obvious curiosity. I'd have to find out what that meant from Elrond, then.

"I wish to thank you for your kindness and generosity," I began, and I hoped that he knew I was referring to everything, not just dinner. "You did not need to go to such trouble over me, but I am incredibly grateful for your efforts."

He waved one hand dismissively.

"It is my pleasure, my lady. Your presence here brings me great joy, and I simply wished to share that feeling with you," he stated simply, and my cheeks heated at the sincerity in his gaze. How in the world did his smile summon such heat? I looked away with a small grin of my own before continuing.

"Ereinion, I–"

The door to the dining room slammed open, startling both of us, and a fierce blonde Elleth in silver armor and muddied boots strode up to the table without so much as a bow to her king. Elrond was hot on her heels, regret written plainly across his features.

"What is the meaning of this?" The High King demanded, authority dripping from his countenance as he laid his napkin aside and got to his feet.

"We must speak. Now," the Elleth stated in a tone which brooked no argument. Who would dare speak to a king in such a manner? As courteous as Ereinion was, I knew he could not have deserved such treatment.

"Our discussion ended this afternoon, Commander," Ereinion began, "and, as you can see, I am in the middle of dinner–"

"Is food so important that you would ignore the counsel of one of your military advisors?" She demanded, and I realized that this would likely not end quickly.

In the charged pause between the two, I laid my napkin aside.

"Perhaps I ought to take my leave, so that you two can continue in peace," I suggested, but as the High King opened his mouth, the Elleth spoke over him.

"Then go," she bit out not sparing me a glance, and I got wordlessly to my feet. Ereinion broke his staring match with the Commander and hurried to intercept me before I could reach the door.

"I am so sorry for this interruption, my lady. You needn't leave if you do not wish to," he murmured, but I just shook my head.

"No, no. It's alright. You are the High King. Your people need you. I cannot expect to monopolize your time," I demurred, and a flash of disappointment crossed his face. "Thank you for your kindness and hospitality, your grace. I have enjoyed every moment."

"As have I, my lady," he replied leaving a gentle kiss upon my knuckles before finally allowing me to slip out the door with Elrond. Had it been my imagination or was there more that he'd wished to say?

I barely processed my friend grasping my upper arm to steer me down the right corridors.

"Mellon-nín, I am so sorry. I tried to stop her, to delay her - anything - but she would not be dissuaded. Commander Galadriel is...determined, once her mind is set upon a particular course of action." He sounded remorseful as we walked through the flickering torchlight.

"It's alright," I answered shaking my head. "Truly, I...Her interruption was fortunate. I was beginning to think above my station. 'Tis dangerous and unwise for one in my position to do so."

We'd reached the door to my temporary chambers by then, and I'd made up my mind. Grasping Elrond's hands in my own, I gave him what I hoped was a steady, warm smile despite his own crestfallen expression.

"In the morning, I shall return home," I murmured, and when his face fell even further, I pressed a soft kiss onto his forehead. "Do not worry. I will return in a short number of weeks as I promised. Until then, I must ask a small favor of you."

"You know that you need only name it, mellon-nín, especially after tonight."

"This gown is lovely, but it's much too fine for me to take home with me. I would have no opportunity to wear it in my village," I explained. "When I return to fulfill my end of the trade agreement, however, the need might arise for me to wear it again, and I do not wish to risk damaging it in transit..."

He nodded his head in comprehension.

"You have my word that I shall keep it safe for you, but," he paused and gave my fingers a gentle squeeze, "are you certain that you do not wish to stay a few days more?"

The longer we talked, the closer to shedding tears I became. With a rueful smile, I shook my head.

"It is better that I leave before all the beauty and tranquility makes me wish for a different life than I am meant to lead," I said. "Besides, my cousin is in charge of my shop, and I promised she would not need to be responsible for it for too long."

Elrond rested his forehead against mine.

"I shall escort you to the gate in the morning and see you on your way," he promised quietly, and after a short pause, he continued. "You can have any life you wish. The only one who can limit your potential is you."

As I lay down to sleep that night, I could only hope he was right.

--

Just as I finished repacking my small bag, a knock sounded at my door.

"Come in, mellon," I called over my shoulder assuming it was Elrond, but when I turned, I found the High King standing in my doorway instead, in all his splendor. The light of the early morning sun bathed him in a gentle glow, making my breath hitch in my throat. "Oh! Good morning, Ereinion."

"Good morning, my lady. Forgive my intrusion, but I was told you were an early riser..." he trailed off as he caught sight of my packed bag and the riding leathers I was wearing. His sheepish smile fell, somewhat. "I...came to apologize for the abrupt end to our evening last night, but, if my eyes do not deceive me, you are already prepared to depart. Am I too late to salvage your opinion on the courtesy of my people?"

Catching one of his hands in mine, I smiled up at him.

"I promise you, no salvaging is required. My good opinion of your people is already etched indelibly in my heart. You have been nothing but kind and generous and welcoming," I assured him, and the relief that crossed his features was practically palpable. His free hand covered mine as he took a small step closer. "My return home is simply to relieve my cousin. She agreed to man my shop while I was away, but I didn't intend to be gone this long."

It was only half of the truth, but I couldn't very well admit all of it, could I? The king would likely be offended at the prospect of some lowly mortal thinking herself equal to him, even if only for a moment, simply because she'd been invited to dine with him.

"In that case, would it be safe for me to assume that you will not be burdened with dread prior to our next meeting?" I couldn't stop the laugh that bubbled out of me.

"I do not think it would be possible to dread seeing you, Ereinion." The admission was one I ought not to have made, but the look that the High King gave me made it feel worth any embarrassment I might've felt.

A second knock sounded upon my door, and when Elrond's fluffy head peeked around the doorframe, his eyes went wide at the sight of us standing so close together.

"My sincerest apologies–"

"Peace, Herald Elrond," Gil-Galad murmured, "I assume you are here to escort my lady to the gates?"

At the affirmative answer he received, the king smiled down at me.

"It appears, my lady, that you have two Ellons to ensure your safe passage."

The walk to the gate where my saddled horse stood was filled with a gentle, companionable sort of quiet. My hand grasped Gil-Galad's arm and Elrond strode beside us with my bag slung gracefully over one shoulder.

Before I could mount my steed, Gil-Galad caught my hand in his.

"May the Valar speed your travels and keep you safe upon the road," he said giving me a warm smile. A second horse trotted up beside mine with an Elven soldier in full armor astride its back. "I am sending one of my guards with you. I know the journey is not a terribly long one, but I would see you arrive safely home."

Indeed, I was home less than a full day later, but the entire way there, all I could think of was a warm smile, gentle eyes, and soft lips upon the back of my hand. We passed the first cart transporting athelas from my village to Lindon just as we arrived at the edge of the outermost field. My guard saluted me and joined his fellows on their way back, presumably to help protect them.

My home seemed smaller when I stepped across the threshold. The wooden walls felt a bit confining compared to the palace, but that was to be expected. After all, what is a house made by mortals compared to an Elven king's palace?

--

"You wished to see me, aran-nín?" Elrond approached his king who stood beneath the Great Tree, watching the sun sinking slowly below the horizon in a pinkish haze.

"Your mortal friend..." he began in a low, thoughtful tone. "Does she...? Do you know if her heart remains her own or if it belongs to another?"

The Peredhel smiled to himself.

"It is still hers alone, my king," he answered simply, and the relieved sigh and long pause that followed spoke volumes.

"During her brief stay here, did she imply any possibility of that changing in the near future?" If that was the king's attempt at subtlety, then he'd been struck harder by her than Elrond had previously thought.

"She did mention one Ellon in particular who had made a favorable impression on her," Elrond said, and Gil-Galad practically wilted beside him until he gave voice to the rest of his thought, "I believe he asked her to call him 'Ereinion' on more than one occasion."

The High King perked up then froze as he looked at his herald.

"If I find that you are speaking falsehoods, Elrond Peredhel–"

The herald held his hands up in surrender.

"I would not dream of doing something so cruel, much less where matters of the heart are concerned," he swore, and the king's shoulders sagged in relief. "I might tease you very gently, but never would I instill false hope. That would be positively barbaric."

The king glanced at Elrond out of the corner of his eye, pulling a huff of laughter from the latter.

"You truly like her, then?"

Ereinion nodded his head silently as the pink sky turned purple.

"She has been gone mere hours and already I..." Gil-Galad trailed off gesturing vaguely with his hands, and Elrond was pleased. His friend had nothing to fear if this was how her soon-to-be-suitor reacted to her temporary departure. He was more than willing to give them a subtle nudge in the right direction, but he didn't anticipate the need to do so - not when the High King was sighing wistfully mere hours into her short absence.

--

My second trip to Lindon three and a half weeks later saw me in a small, horse-drawn cart laden with baskets full of athelas and driven by a pair of the High King's guards. Gil-Galad had sent word with them that if I desired, I could accompany them back to Lindon - for pleasure, to honor my part in the bargain I'd struck, or both.

I longed to get away from the wagging tongues in my village claiming that I'd intentionally tricked the High King into giving us what we needed in exchange for some worthless weeds. I practically threw my clothes and carving tools into a bag when the opportunity presented itself.

Once we were through the gate, one of the guards stationed there waved our cart to a halt, and as I clambered down from my seat, he gave me a low bow.

"I bring greetings from High King Gil-Galad and bid you welcome. Your cargo shall be attended to, and I shall escort you to your chambers," he said with a small smile. "If you would come with me, my lady?"

I took his proffered arm, and with that, I was whisked away to the same set of chambers I'd occupied the last time I was in Lindon. The guard bade me a pleasant stay and went to alert the High King that I had arrived.

The chambers themselves were practically untouched, with two notable exceptions: the bed had been made with a different color of linens - a pale, shimmering gold instead of cream - and there was a note upon the bookshelf. Sealed with wax and written on the highest quality parchment lay a letter written by my host requesting that I meet with him as soon as I felt sufficiently settled in and rested after my travels.

Truthfully, however, rest wasn't necessary. Being here in Lindon had already rejuvenated me, restoring my energy and inciting a flutter of anticipation within my heart.

Beside the note in a crystal vase was a mixed bouquet of pink, white, and red roses. Large and fragrant, they filled the whole room with their scent, making me wish that their like grew near our village.

A fresh wave of excitement thrummed through my veins. It was more than likely that the king simply wanted to know that the final cartload of athelas had made it here unscathed, but in truth, I was looking forward to seeing Ereinion again - would I still be allowed to call him that? After all, it was quite a liberty, but his presence was comforting, and his voice...

I was doomed. My poor heart was destined to be shattered by the most beautiful Ellon who had ever walked Middle-Earth.

Mustering all my courage and trying to tamp down my excitement, I made myself as presentable as a mortal could be and started toward the king's study to face my fate.

The guard outside waved me in, telling me that I was expected, and when I entered, there he stood gazing out the window in all his splendor, as radiant as the midday sun that shone upon him. His golden halo of a crown lay discarded on his desk, complemented by a reddish-brown cape draped artfully over one shoulder. The length of dark cloth was pinned in place by abstract golden shapes which resembled feathers or perhaps leaves from a distance.

"You wished to see me, your grace?" He turned at the sound of my voice, and a wide, warm smile stretched his lips.

"Indeed, híril vuin, but I thought I asked you to call me Ereinion." His voice was just as deliciously smooth as I remembered despite his playful tone. With unparalleled grace, he moved toward me and dropped into a low bow that I answered with a curtsy. "Forgive me for the summons, but I simply could not deny myself of your presence any longer than was absolutely necessary."

"There is nothing to forgive, I assure you." With a rustling of fabric, he gestured for me to have a seat beside him on the divan we'd occupied for so many hours during my first visit. "I was honored to receive your invitation to return. Lindon is a lovely place, and with such a charming host, I find that I am looking forward to fulfilling my end of our bargain. I did pack all of my tools."

"Ah, if you desire to begin, we can, of course, discuss the particulars," the High King offered. "And, obviously, we will provide the wood necessary per your specifications. As for the works themselves, what did you have in mind?"

I'd no idea that the High King was willing to give me such freedom with this project.

"I suppose that depends upon what you want this set to achieve." At his curious look, I expounded. "If there is a particular subject you wish me to capture, or a specific emotional response you wish my pieces to evoke..."

"Ah, I see," he murmured glancing at his bookshelf for a moment. "I wonder, would it be too ambitious to set thoughtfulness or introspection as a goal?"

"Certainly not. I believe that is entirely plausible."

For the next hour, we sat bounced ideas off of one another until we'd settled rather excitedly upon the idea of a series of five pieces centered around the unity of his people and mine. Two would be symbols of our individuality - something that represented the Elves, and something that represented Humans. Two would consist of likenesses - each a prominent figure from our races. And the final piece would be the most ambitious of them all: a scene involving both Humans and Elves. We decided, however, that the scene itself should be decided upon as the project progressed. There was no rush, and we both wanted it to be just right.

Afterwards, however, we lost ourselves to conversation as we had done only weeks before. The sun traversed its long path through the sky until a distinctive evening shadow began to caress our surroundings. The golden glow created a halo around my host's visage, making him look even more ethereal than usual.

I'd just caught myself with a silly, lovesick grin on my face when a knock sounded. The polished, very solid wooden door opened to reveal Elrond with a scroll and quill in his ink-dotted hand.

"Forgive me, aran-nín, but I think I have finally found the right words for th–" He broke off when he looked up and found me seated beside his liege-lord on the divan near the hearth. "Mellon-nín? When did you get here? Why was I not informed?"

The latter question the herald aimed at his king, while he wasted no time in crossing the room to gather me up in a tight hug, paper and quill forgotten upon a small table to the side.

"I fear that was my doing," Ereinion stated, "for I summoned her to my side almost as soon as she'd set foot within the gate."

Elrond pulled back just far enough to look at me with a knowing glint in his eyes.

"I see. You must have had urgent matters of state to discuss, then?" He asked in a distinctly teasing tone, and though heat poured into my cheeks, I lifted my chin slightly.

"Indeed. We were discussing my part of the trade agreement just before you came in," I answered. We had finished that discussion much earlier than I'd implied, but what Ereinion conversed about in private was our business...especially when admitting it would only serve to make my friend smug.

Besides, I did not want Elrond getting his hopes up where none existed. The High King would never look at me the way I did him - Valar, I was lucky that he was pursuing a friendship with me, even if it was only for the sake of maintaining diplomatic relations between our people.

Elrond lifted an eyebrow as if he had not believed a word that I'd said. His expression practically screamed that I would not escape his curiosity for long.

"Now, I'm quite certain you had a reason for coming to see your king, so I shall take up his time no longer," I stated taking a step back from my friend. Ereinion got to his feet and caught my hands in barely a blink.

"You needn't leave, my lady, truly," he began, but I shook my head quietly.

"From what I understand, I believe Elrond has something important to discuss with you, and I really ought to be unpacking if I am to make my preparations on the morrow." It could have been a trick of the light, but I could have sworn that a flicker of disappointment passed over his features before a warm, understanding smile settled across his lips.

"In that case, gil-nín, I shall reluctantly let you go, but should you want or need anything at all, you need only alert one of the guards or the palace staff," the High King explained, and I thanked him before curtsying and taking my leave.

--

Through the High King's kindness and generosity, I was afforded a workspace that defied its name, appearing more like a leisure room than anything else. The chamber had a generously-sized table upon which to work, but it also contained a plush rest area for those moments when I required a respite. In addition, a pair of glass doors opened onto a sunlit balcony overlooking the lush forest. I could easily imagine myself spending time out there when I needed further inspiration or motivation.

During the first week, I made and refined sketches for four of the five carvings. He was likely just being polite, but every time I offered him a glance at my work, Ereinion leaned close and murmured sweeter praise than I deserved for simple sketches.

"Your creative vision is positively exquisite!"

"Such lovely detail, and the style! Beautiful, híril vuin."

"We are fortunate to have found an artist of your skill, for how else would we look upon such wonders?"

Truly, if he continued like that, I was going to have a massively-inflated ego by the time I went home for good. I never stopped him, though. How could I when he leaned so close that I could feel his breath against my skin? I longed to simply abandon my propriety and allow myself to melt against his lovely, broad chest.

The king was more attentive than I expected him to be when the time came for the carving to begin. As I set out to make the first piece, he requested formally that he be allowed to watch, as it had been some time since he last observed a woodworker engaging in their craft.

His presence made the work even more enjoyable than it already was. He asked intelligent questions about the process, and I answered to the best of my ability, but as the day went along, our conversations touched on all sorts of topics. From Elvish history, to the merits of Dwarven stonecraft, to our childhoods, we allowed our discussions to meander along nearly every tangential thought we had. I'd never enjoyed myself so thoroughly.

As the end of the day drew near, and we lit a few candles to combat the dimming of the sun's light, Ereinion drew me over to the small sofa and gave me a joyful smile.

"In commemoration of this monumental first day of work, my lady, I would like to present you with this small token of my esteem," Gil-Galad said holding out a small, wooden box tied with silk ribbon.

"Honestly, Ereinion, you are much too kind," I demurred as I accepted the box. He looked excited to see my reaction, so I very carefully untied the bow.

A gasp escaped me when I saw the necklace I'd admired in the market when Elrond had escorted me. Crafted with the most exquisite detail and skill by Lord Celebrimbor of Eregion, the thin, delicate chain and sapphire pendant glimmered up at me as if giving a conspiratorial wink.

"I hope such a gesture is not too forward..." the king murmured, and I realized I'd been silent for a beat too long.

"Oh no! No, not at all. Forgive me, I was just surprised," I replied looking up just in time to catch relief sweeping across his features. "Ereinion...I cannot imagine what I have done to deserve such kindness, but I am incredibly grateful. Thank you. I did, in fact, admire this in the market the last time I was here. May I ask how you knew?"

A sheepish smile stole across his lips.

"I swore never to reveal my source's identity." I narrowed my eyes playfully, because I knew there were only two people who could've told him.

"Hm, if I did not know any better, I would think you were protecting a certain Peredhel," I prodded, and he gave me his best innocent look.

"My dearest lady, are you accusing the High King of Lindon of espionage?" He lifted his eyebrows, and though my heart raced, I doubled down.

"Perhaps, I am."

Ereinion let out a quiet 'tsk' and leaned a bit closer.

"Whatever shall I do about such impertinence?" He asked, and if I knew no better, I would've thought that his eyes had slid down to my lips for a moment. Instead, I merely leaned closer and held out the box.

"You could start by helping me with the clasp," I suggested, and a velvety laugh poured from his throat.

"I could, at that." He took the box from me, and once I'd lifted my hair out of the way, Ereinion threaded the chain around my neck. Though he secured the clasp rather easily, his hands lingered at the nape of my neck. Gently, he coaxed me to release my hair, then smoothed it back into place. When he spoke, it was in a slightly rougher voice than before. "There, now. It suits you to perfection."

His breath was warm against my scalp, and I barely suppressed a shiver of pleasure at how close he was standing. I turned to face the king, and his hands moved to my waist.

"My lady...meleth, I wonder if–" He was cut off by a sharp knock upon the door. We both practically jumped apart, and I looked away with burning cheeks as the king called out a gruff 'enter.' One of his guards stepped inside with a bow, but I neither heard nor cared about what he said. I was too focused on how foolishly I'd just behaved. Surely, the High King would be weary of my company after I'd behaved like a young girl falling in love for the first time. I came back to myself when he grasped my hand in both of his. "Forgive me, my lady, I must welcome a dignitary, but I do hope that I might be allowed to join you again in the coming days...?"

"Of course, your grace," I answered, and with a bow from him and a curtsy from me, he left to attend to his duties. That night, when his herald noted the shimmering necklace adorning me, he gave a mischievous smirk.

"Well, mellon-nín, that is certainly a lovely addition to your wardrobe. Tell me, how did you come by it?"

As if he did not already know. He was the only one beside the merchant who could have possibly known that I thought this necklace was pretty.

"Traitor of a Peredhel," I muttered, but my words lacked any real venom. He raised his hands in playful surrender.

"Forgive me, but, pray tell, what was I to do when my High King sought to give you a gift? He asked me if you seemed to favor anything in the market. What could I say?"

"Something that could have stopped him from making such a costly purchase, perhaps?" I teased, but Elrond just gave me the same look that he had about the boots.

"He would simply have bought multiple items and asked me which you would have preferred. Or, he would have given them all to you, one-by-one, in his pursuit of your heart." I looked at him sharply about that last remark.

"Do not tease me so, mellon," I scolded as we began to walk side-by-side toward one of the outdoor lounges. "You know he would never desire a mortal."

Elrond let out a huff of laughter, shaking his head as if he did not believe me.

"Oh, forgive my curiosity, but he said he was on his way to greet a dignitary. May I ask who that might be? I understand if it is private, of course, I was simply curious."

"Ah...about that," Elrond muttered as we stepped out onto the terrace lit with lanterns. There stood Ereinion and a blond Ellon in ornate, velvet robes. I looked at Elrond in askance, but Ereinion called my name when he caught sight of me.

"Mellon, this is the artist I told you about from the village of Men just south of Lindon." The High King moved to my side, laying a hand on my shoulder. "And, my lady, this is Lord Celebrimbor of Eregion."

"It is a great honor to meet you, my lord." I dropped into a low curtsy, which he met with a bow.

"My lady, the High King has spoken very highly of you and your work. The honor, I assure you, is mine," Celebrimbor said with a warm smile. Though stunned, I managed a shaky reply.

"I am certain he has been much too generous, as usual."

"Nonsense. Ereinion's praise is measured and delivered only where it is deserved," Celebrimbor said as we all took seats around a small table beneath the stars. "If he says your work is beautiful, then it is exquisite. In fact, that is part of the reason I am here. I know it is a bit early, but I am rather too eager to wait. May I, aran-nín?"

The High King gave him a graceful nod from the seat beside mine - had I subconsciously taken that seat, or had he sat subtly beside me without me noticing?

"Well, our king praised your work in a letter to me a few weeks ago, and when he mentioned that you were to return to grace his court with more of your creations, I wondered..." Celebrimbor paused and shifted slightly in his seat. "I am aware that your current project is meant to demonstrate the unity between our two peoples, so I wondered if you would consider collaborating on a piece with the same theme once your series is complete?"

I only just stopped my jaw from dropping open. The Greatest of the Elven Smiths wanted to work with...me?

"I-I would be honored, my lord," I stammered. "I must admit that I am not terribly familiar with the workings of a forge, but I would be overjoyed to contribute to such a project in some small way."

"Wonderful!" He exclaimed with a bright smile stretching his lips. "We can discuss the particulars in time, of course, but I am terribly glad that you've agreed. It is not often that both Ereinion and his herald speak so highly of a person."

My eyes flicked to Elrond, who, for the second time that night, gestured his surrender.

"You three are going to inflate my ego horribly, you know."

Over a modest dinner, the four of us chatted - it felt surreal to be conversing with three such illustrious Elves when I was just a mortal - until eventually, Lord Celebrimbor bid us a good night and retired to his chambers. Elrond did the same, tossing me a subtle wink as he took his leave.

Looking up, I found the king's eyes already on me, and my breath hitched in my chest at the tenderness I found in his gaze.

"Ereinion...I cannot thank you enough, truly. I have been an admirer of Lord Celebrimbor's work for as long as I can remember. An opportunity like this is..." I trailed off trying to find the right words, even as a giddy laugh bubbled out of me. "From the bottom of my heart, you have my most sincere gratitude."

The king smiled softly at me.

"It is my honor to bring together such skilled artists." That only made my face burn hotter. By the time he escorted me back to my chambers - an action which he swore was both necessary for his peace of mind and pleasant for him - the midnight stars twinkled brightly through the windows, bathing the king's visage in their glow as he bid me sweet dreams.

--

A few morns later, I was barely an hour into the day's work on my carvings when a knock sounded at the door. When I called for whomever it was to enter, I couldn't keep the smile off my lips. I didn't bother to look up, as my visitor could only be one of two people.

"Hm, is it the Peredhel or the High King who graces me this morning?" I called as I brushed a gloved finger over an edge to test whether I'd achieved the right depth.

"Neither, I'm afraid." I turned quickly to see none other than the Lord of Eregion standing just inside the doorway with an amused smile stretching his lips.

"Lord Celebrimbor! My sincerest apologies, I assumed..." I trailed off with a vague, helpless gesture. "Forgive me. What can I do for you?"

"'Tis I who should be apologizing for interrupting your work and providing no prior warning of my arrival," he murmured as he walked a bit closer. "My curiosity got the better of me, I'm afraid. I wanted to watch the master at work."

I let out an incredulous laugh.

"I am hardly a master, my lord, but you are more than welcome to stay if you wish," I said laying aside my tools for a moment as he studied the sketches I'd spread across a stand. "I've just received a fresh pot of tea and some lemon cakes, if you wish for some refreshment, and I'd be more than willing to explain what I'm doing."

"Oh, I'd be most appreciative of all of the above," he answered with a smile, and I gave him a quick explanation of what I'd done so far, as well as what I was aiming to do next. Eventually, we ended up seated with tea and lemon cakes, chatting about various creative methods. After a slight pause, he set his cup and saucer on the little table before us. "My lady...in truth, I did come here this morning with an ulterior motive. I wished to thank you."

He must've seen the utter confusion in my face, because he elaborated rather quickly.

"You see, I have been friends with the High King for thousands of years. I know his moods, his joys, his sorrows. I have seen him filled with rage and with laughter but...lately, there is a happiness...a sort of contentment about him that I feared he would never find," he explained, but I hadn't quite caught his drift.

"Forgive me, my lord, I-I don't understand," I muttered, and he nodded his head.

"Elrond said that through your own modesty you might not. Let me put it another way, then," he said, and I set my own teacup aside. "I believe, my lady, that your presence here in Lindon has brought into the king's life something that he desperately needed. Something...which he has not felt before in any serious capacity."

His meaning clicked in my mind, then, and I ducked my head. Elrond had obviously convinced him of the same folly.

"Ah. I think you give me too much credit, my lord," I demurred, but he shook his head.

"I don't. I have seen the way he looks at you. And, he does so in a way that I have never seen from him before," Celebrimbor politely insisted. "He cares for you, and it is plain to all but him that you feel the same. I am grateful to you, my lady, for bringing joy into his life."

My heart raced in my chest at the possibility that Elrond's teasing might've had a basis, after all.

"B-But I'm mortal–"

"–And, that is not a problem. There have been many matches in the history of Middle-Earth between mortals and Elves," he explained, and I could not stop my skepticism from showing on my face.

"The only one with which I am familiar ended rather famously in tragedy," I pointed out, and he let out a light huff of laughter.

"Yes, well, Beren and Lúthien might be the most well-known pairing between an Elf and a Human, but they are not the only ones. Most others choose to live rather quiet, modest lives," Celebrimbor murmured, and hope flickered within me. "Your life with him would be neither quiet nor modest, after all, he is the High King. However, I know with certainty that he would treat you like the queen you would become."

I considered his words silently for a moment before voicing a thought that had been bouncing around in my mind ever since I met Ereinion.

"Would I not be dooming him?" I knew what was said about Elves and the intensity of their love and grief. "Would my mortality not cause him pain when what little there is of my life comes to an end? Our lives are but blinks compared to yours."

Celebrimbor caught my hands in his grasp and looked at me earnestly.

"My lady, I swear to you, he is more than aware of the implications of falling for a mortal. We may not be able to control with whom we fall in love, but we do have a choice in pursuit. Ereinion could have attempted to smother those feelings and distance himself, but he has not done so. He is over four thousand years old. He knows his own heart," the Lord of Eregion's gaze was gentle and reassuring. "You have done no harm by caring for him, nor shall you by accepting his affections."

After Celebrimbor had excused himself, tears of relief, anticipation, and joy spilled down my cheeks. When Elrond let himself in moments later and wrapped his arms around me in concern, I looked at him with a damp smile.

"Celebrimbor was here," I murmured, and after a brief, confused pause, a warm smile stretched his lips. "I think I believe you, now. Goheno nin, mellon."

"Hush, there is nothing to forgive." At his reassurance, I buried my face in the shoulder of his tunic and tried to steady my breathing. "Perhaps, now, you will enjoy this dance a bit more, hm?"

--

As the weeks quickly passed, I easily completed three of the five carvings, and was nearly finished with the fourth. The two symbols of our peoples were only awaiting suitable stands, which Lord Celebrimbor asked the honor of creating. Why would I ever refuse such an offer? Ereinion and I had decided on the tree I'd admired from the courtyard - which he'd taught me was known as the Great Tree and was linked the vitality of the Elves as a species - as a representation of his people.

The long, crescent moon table belonging to our village's council of elders, complete with each member's seat and stone palm gavel and plate was to represent my village, since the elders were considered the wisest among us. At times, I found that sentiment questionable at best, but the elders could at least be reasoned with.

The likeness carvings, however, were a matter of great debate for Ereinion and I. There was no question that the singular knight of note that our village had produced should suit the project, but as for the Elves, there were so many more options. Each was as viable as the last. As Ereinion had founded Lindon, my initial thought was that I should carve him. A slightly more selfish underlying motive, I had to admit, was getting the chance to sketch and carve his likeness - not that I hadn't already sketched him a dozen times over in idle moments in my chambers. That suggestion, however, was rejected by the Ellon in question.

After much back and forth over various Elves of noble and notable standing, he laid forth Círdan the Shipwright, and we finally agreed. Círdan was amenable to the suggestion, though he modestly asserted that there were much more worthy subjects before accepting the proposal. At the High King's request, he visited the palace for a fortnight while I worked.

I could see why Ereinion suggested him almost immediately. There was a sort of peace within his eyes and wisdom in even his smallest responses during our conversations while I sketched him.

At the month-and-a-half mark of my time in Lindon, I was nearing completion of the fourth carving - the knight from our own tales whose likeness lay only in the imaginations of those who recounted his story. All week, the High King had been busy with his duties to his people, but the final day of work on his particular carving, he made a point of spending the evening hours in my company. Although I was disheveled from my work by that point, he did not seem to mind any more than usual as we conversed.

"I find that I shall miss Lindon," I admitted as I brushed away the final curls of wood left by my tools. "I know that eventually, we shall find a suitable scene for the final piece in this set and I'll return to make it, but I...I must admit, I do not long for home after so long in such a lovely place."

Ereinion didn't miss a beat.

"You needn't leave," the king said, and I looked up at him curiously. "You could stay here. My lady, I offer you a home – a set of chambers in the palace that would be your own. You would be under no obligation to go or stay, rather you'd be able to do so as pleases you."

I could hardly believe what I was hearing.

"If you wished to retain your home in your village and only use your chambers here as an occasional respite, you could. If you wished to live here permanently, you would be most welcome to do so," he explained grasping my hands and looking at me earnestly. "I desire only to give you the chance to choose for yourself. You needn't decide right away. This offer will always be open to you; I merely wished to make it known while I had the opportunity."

Laying my hands atop his chest and covering them with his own, Ereinion looked hopefully down at me.

"Your kindness is beyond expression." My voice was barely above a whisper, but to speak any louder seemed wrong. It seemed reckless to make a choice without considering other factors beyond my own desire to remain in the High King's presence. "I...would be remiss to give you an answer without due thought, so with your permission I will take some time to consider the question."

A relieved smile stretched the king's lips, and he drew me into a gentle embrace.

"That is all I ask, meleth."

Scant minutes later, I was seated beside Elrond in an empty pavilion beneath the stars. The cushioned bench upon which we sat was positioned for a lovely view of the moonlit paths into the forest, which were dotted with fireflies, but I hardly noticed such beauty in my state of agitation.

"What do I do?" I asked clutching desperately at my friend's arm.

"What do you wish to do?" He asked cupping my cheek and skimming his thumb across my skin. "Do you want to stay? Or, would you prefer to return home? As Gil-Galad stated, there is no need to make a permanent decision, nor is there any haste to do so. He has made it quite clear that you are free to come and go as you choose. All you need decide, mellon-nín, is whether you want to have a home here...a part of Lindon - of the palace - that is your own."

Nothing sounded more abhorrent than stepping outside the gates of this beautiful place never to return, with nothing to come back to even if I did. I felt as thought I'd stepped into one of the stories the village bards told on firelight nights in the autumn.

"Such offers are not made lightly, are they?" I asked, but I knew the answer long before the words left Elrond's lips.

"No, mellon. I have never known the High King to propose anything like this. Diplomatic housing? Of course. But, to offer chambers in the palace on a permanent basis...that is unprecedented."

I stood and paced the length of the cobblestone perimeter and back again before stopping in front of my friend.

"I'm going to accept," I said, and a giddy sort of warmth bubbled up within me at having spoken the words. Elrond got to his feet and I practically leaped into his arms with excitement.

--

During the following weeks, I fell into a sort of routine. Elrond would break his fast with me before attending to his duties with the king, then I would venture out into Lindon intent on exploring. I tried to visit a different place each day, sketching the various sights and mentally mapping out where everything was until I had a working knowledge of the city surrounding the palace.

The guards and shopkeepers alike seemed not to object to my presence, and I tried to be as polite as humanly possible with them during my wandering.

In the afternoons or evenings, Ereinion, if his duties permitted, would join me for a walk, dine with me, or share a nightcap and converse with me before we retired to our respective beds. One such evening, as we walked together discussing possibilities for the final carving, Ereinion paused beside a particularly lovely overlook to the waterfall. I did the same, savoring the feeling of his hand gently grasping mine as water sparkled and roared into the river below.

"Will I...see you for the harvest festival? The annual celebrations here in Lindon are quite a sight to behold." Gil-Galad spoke as if he was trying to persuade me to come. "If you do attend, I...I do not know how often you were given the chance in your village, but I would be honored if you would perhaps save a dance for me."

I smiled up at the Ellon who'd so easily stolen my heart, hoping that the love I felt for him wasn't painted across my face as obviously as I felt that it was.

"I wouldn't miss it, and, Ereinion, you may have as many dances with me as you desire, save one which I am certain your herald will claim." He lifted his chin a little higher as if he was proud to have received such a response.

I, however, was too busy admiring the way the moonlight played across the High King's features. To dance with him would be a privilege.

By the time the afternoon of the festival arrived, though, I was trembling as I held my dress before me in front of the mirror. My confidence, while still present, had been tempered by my nerves. How small and plain would a mortal appear in a hall filled with graceful, beautiful Elves?

"You will look exquisite, mellon-nín," Elrond said moving to stand behind me at the mirror. After a short pause, his broad smile became mischievous. "May I ask, however, how you will catch the High King when he swoons at the sight of you? I can see it so clearly, now. 'Ah, gil-nín! Such a vision!'"

The king's herald feigned fainting onto my bed, and I dissolved in a fit of giggles.

"You know he would never behave in such a melodramatic manner," I chided gently, but Elrond merely sat up and smirked.

"Perhaps not, but he will be absolutely besotted with you in such a fine garment." Despite his assertion, I still had my doubts. Yes, Celebrimbor had managed to convince me that my interest was not as one-sided as I imagined, but I still wondered if this could possibly develop into the sort of romance that my silly mortal heart wanted. My friend's hand reached out and coaxed me into sitting beside him. "At the very least, I shall have to scold him rather harshly if he does not dare to steal even a single kiss."

My cheeks burned even as a surprised laugh escaped me.

"You would berate your king?" Dismissing my incredulity with a much-too-sincere smile, Elrond tilted my chin up a little.

"For you, mellon-nín? Absolutely."

--

Elrond had arrived at the royal hall long before me due to his obligations to the royal court. When I approached the ornate double doors held open for the guests' ease of entry, my heart leaped into my throat. Everyone looked so beautiful! The Elleths and Ellons mingled and talked amidst the strains of gentle, serene music played by a veritable orchestra moving throughout the room.

I was grotesquely out of place amongst such graceful, ethereal beings. My sage green dress - recommended by my friend - looked beautiful, of course, but nothing could compare to the natural grace of their kind. Perhaps it was not too late to return to my chambers and feign a headache...

"There you are! You're just in time," Elrond murmured as he caught my hand in his. Damn. Too late for a retreat.

Without waiting for my reply, he drew me toward the front of the room where Gil-Galad was ascending a small dais. The High King's eyes met mine, and a joyful smile stretched his lips as he raised his hands.

When the crowd fell silent, Ereinion bid everyone welcome to the harvest festival, but I hardly heard a word. Deep green and gold robes draped languidly from his frame, and a crown of branches and berries decorated with streaks of gold sat upon his head. I got the distinct impression that none would begrudge him if he claimed to be a king of nature as well of Elves.

As soon as he finished his speech, he made his way through the crowd, Ellons and Elleths bowing as he passed, only stopping once he stood before me. I dropped into a curtsy, but was surprised when he extended his hand to me as I straightened once more.

"Would you do me the honor of joining me for the traditional first dance, híril vuin?" My eyes went wide. Why would he ask me when there were so many Elleths there who would've been a better fit to the role of his dance partner than I? He seemed thoroughly certain, however, so I laid my hand atop his and allowed myself to be led to the center of the room. My fingers must've trembled in his grasp, for he leaned close as he guided us into position. "Breathe. I am here with you."

I nodded my head as the music began, focusing simply upon the High King, rather than the many sets of eyes watching us. Everything fell away when my eyes met my partner's. He was looking at me with such softness that I found myself entranced.

Ereinion's lead was effortless and skillful, and all but my king faded from my focus. A few moments in, he spoke quietly so that only I could hear him.

"Gil-nín, I believe I know what the final piece of our series should be," the High King murmured against the shell of my ear. I looked up at him curiously, and he smiled as he guided me around the dance hall. "If you will forgive me for taking a liberty, I have commissioned several artists to capture a sketch of the two of us dancing, and...I can think of no better illustration of the unity between our people than us. I should have proposed the idea earlier, but I thought that if I made my intentions known, you...may no longer wish to dance with me."

I blinked up at him, expecting to see a teasing smile stretch his lips, but instead all I found was sincerity and a sheepish blush. He was serious. Stepping closer at his behest while we danced, I laid my head gently on his chest.

"You are right, of course, about all except the dance," I replied. "I can honestly say that none from my village have been on such pleasant terms with your people as I've been. For that opportunity, Ereinion, I thank you with all my heart. But, I would not have missed dancing with you for all the world."

His chin rested atop my head, and his grip on both my waist and hand tightened slightly.

"'Tis I who should be thanking you, my dear lady. These past months have been idyllic."

We ignored the gazes trained upon us as the first dance came to a close. Afterward, as people paired up to begin their own dances, we walked out of the hall arm-in-arm into the moonlight. The gentle rustling of the leaves upon the Great Tree added to the sweet, serene atmosphere surrounding us.

"This place is just as breathtaking as the first time I saw it," I murmured, recalling the vividly striking sight that was Lindon's High King standing between the tree and the setting sun on the horizon. Now, the stars glittered in his hair and set his eyes aglow.

"As are you, my dear lady." My host's low voice sent a flutter of warmth through my chest and caused my cheeks to burn under the starlight - a sight of which I hoped he was less aware than I thought he might be. "And, I am even more pleased that you are here tonight, for you are here of your own desire rather than out of a sense of duty to your people. It is not often that I am sought for the pleasure of my company over what I might do as a result of the power of my position. Yet, you have done so more than once for things as mundane and pleasing as a simple conversation."

Glancing up at him and squeezing his arm lightly, I offered the king a smile.

"Truthfully, your grace, I am pleased that my duty brought me to you, but I was equally disappointed that our first meeting was business-related," I admitted quietly. "I would have liked to have given you a better first impression than that of a weary traveler in desperate need of assistance."

"Oh? And, pray tell, if you were given the choice, how would you have preferred that meeting to have gone?" His voice edged into the realm of playfulness - a side he so rarely showed, but which I still saw more frequently than most others.

"Well, I should like to have had the chance to outfit myself better. Tatty riding leathers, a mud-stained skirt, and a pair of boots held together by mere wishes? Those were hardly the most appropriate things to be wearing to meet the High King of Lindon," I said smirking up at him. "I must've appeared as no more than clot of dirt muddying your pretty gilded hall."

"You do yourself a great disservice, my lovely lady," he stated unequivocally, "for you would look as radiant as the sun and the stars even covered from head to toe in mud."

"You flatter me," I stammered in protest, but the king merely paused and turned so that we faced each other.

"I speak only the truth. For my part, you made quite a positive impression, meleth-nín," Gil-Galad murmured as his thumb and forefinger gently grasped my chin and tilted my head up so that my gaze met his. For a long moment, I became lost in his eyes. It was not the first time in the months that I'd known him, and it certainly would not be the last.

A cold gust of wind - likely the first of the winter - swirled around us, and I couldn't suppress a shiver. The High King swept the soft, green and gold cloak from his shoulders, draping it without a word around my own. When the garment enveloped me, I was comforted by not only the warmth that had seeped into the fabric from its previous wearer, but by his scent as well. Something masculine, herbal, and soothing washed over me - the same something I smelled every time I was near him - and I took an instinctive deep breath, savoring the sensation.

"Hannon le, aran-nín," I murmured, and a soft smile stretched his lips. "Are you not cold yourself?"

His hands slid down from my upper arms to my waist where they paused.

"With the warmth of your presence so near, I shall resist the cold effortlessly, I assure you." His gaze dropped to my lips; he appeared to battle with his thoughts for a few long seconds before speaking again. "However, I...wonder if it might be wise for me to finally take a risk. I must admit that I am sorely tempted."

"What risk would that be?"

"This," he breathed, and cradling the back of my head tenderly, the High King leaned in until his lips met mine. I was stunned for a moment before my fingers delved into the sea of his dark tresses and returned his kiss. Gentle yet passionate, High King Gil-Galad stole the breath from my lungs and all of my resolve to resist reaching above my station. Every thought of my unworthiness were washed away in the wake of his tenderness.

Neither of our stations mattered when being together felt like this. I wanted to stay firmly locked in his arms until the sun went out and Middle-Earth crumbled around us.

The trilling of a flute from within startled us both, and as we caught our breath, our foreheads rested together. Anyone at the party just inside the palace doors could have seen their king kiss me. Had I risked damaging his reputation?

Before I could spiral too much into my own thoughts, Gil-Galad spoke in a low, fervent voice.

"Prior to meeting you, I never considered it necessary to have a queen by my side," he murmured. "Now, however, the thought scarcely leaves my mind. At every turn I find my daydreams straying into territory which propriety dictates they ought not."

His lips met my forehead.

"More than anything, I want you to remain a part of my life, but I would be honored if you would do so by my side...as my queen." Warm vulnerability swam through his eyes, almost as delicate as my own. One cruel breeze would tear his heart out. Oh, Valar, even the thought made me want to sob.

"I am yours, Ereinion. Always, in all things," I swore as I reached carefully up and cupped his cheeks. "I have been since the moment I laid eyes on you."

His lips met mine again, hungrier than before, as if he was determined to claim my heart through this alone. Eventually, the emotions that we'd been holding back won out, and after we both released relieved sighs, we stood giggling joyfully in each other's embrace.

When we finally moved to rejoin the party several songs and kisses later, I tried to return Gil-Galad's cloak, but he just wrapped it more firmly around me, giving me a faux stern look.

"I want them all to know that they are looking upon the woman I love, rían-nín." My queen. That sentiment made my heart race once more.

Elrond met my gaze as he walked over, giving me a low bow after the one he offered his king. The sparkle in his eye told me all I needed to know about whether he'd seen us.

With Gil-Galad's arm still around my waist, I didn't care who'd caught a glimpse. Let them look.

~*~*~

Elvish Words:

mellon-nín = my friend

gil-nín = my bright spark

híril vuin = beloved lady

goheno nin = forgive me

aran-nín = my king

rían-nín = my queen

~*~

Taglist:

@bigblissandlove1 @asksizworld @zoya-olenko @gandalfthepimp

[off-main-street]

God, I need to stop thinking about this show, but here I am thinking about this show.

Just watched the episode where Hawkeye buys Frank's garbage, and dumps in on the visiting Colonel. After everyone walks away, and Hawkeye and BJ are still laughing, BJ asks him: "Can I buy you a drink, Sailor?" Common joke. But the WAY he says it is the way I say things that I think are going to sound cool to MY crush and then realize I sounded like a damn, rehearsed idiot. Like, he'd said that corny line to Hawkeye a hundred times in his head, and took that moment to shoot his shot. And then was then blown off.

He uses the line again, of course in Peace on Us, and it's much more smooth. More time has gone by; Hawkeye is still his crush, but he's his best friend, the reason he doesn't run away from the war - they're in the most requited unrequited love by then.

And I just like that juxtaposition. ☺️

[firstprincehornyramblings]

Despite the fact that Henry Fox's research assistant is the most beautiful man he's ever seen, he's handling it fine. Really, he's totally normal about it, it's not a problem at all. That is, until, Alex confesses that he also thinks about Henry- a lot.

Tags: Age Difference, Age Gap, Alternate Universe - College/University, Professor Henry Fox, Law Student Alex Claremont-Diaz, College | University Student Alex Claremont-Diaz, Bottom Henry Fox, Top Alex Claremont-Diaz, The love is requited they're just both idiots, Public Blow Jobs, Semi-Public Sex, Oral Sex, Hand Jobs, Public Hand Jobs, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, POV Henry Fox, Pining Henry Fox, Gay Disaster Henry Fox, Bisexual Disaster Alex Claremont-Diaz, Alex Claremont-Diaz Has a Bisexual Awakening, Alex Claremont-Diaz Has a Crush on Henry Fox, Jealous Henry Fox, Unsafe Sex, Dirty Talk

https://archiveofourown.org/works/64631068

----

tagging everyone who interacted, no pressure loves.

@honeygirl1212 @threetadpolesinatrenchcoat @percy-jackson-is-sexy- @buttercupmistymoon

@tailsbeth @sum1sx @onthewaytosomewhere @barghavsarathy

@anti-homophobia-cheese @redlipstickandglitter @henfox @henrysfox

@potato-jem @es-ca-peee @anchor-bird-94 @thighzp

@midnight-soulless-system @valeblue @cnointerprise @gayhoediaz

@lfg1986-2 @catdadacd @bitbybitwrites @littlestar2911

@dragonflylady77 @daphnefangirling @buddieunite @caressthosecheekbones

@judasofsuburbia @softboynick @sheepywritesfics

@basil-bird @eusuntgratie

[no-goodbyes-no-regrets]

"the love is requited, they're just idiots" <- bucktommy

[gingerbearbaby]

Superstitious (Lockwood x Reader!AU)

I am absolutely obsessed with Lockwood and show choir and I was desperate for someone to write it. So this came out. It's my first (and likely only) work, so enjoy! Best read with F!reader (sorry!).

Basically, Lockwood and reader are co-dance captains in their show choir. Barnes is their director and Holly is their choreographer. Their girls group is called Elegance and their mixed group is Fusion. Also Kipps and reader used to date.

As for their ballad, it's called Maybe I Like It This Way from the musical The Wild Party. It's such a good song!

Tropes: enemies to lovers, fake dating, forced proximity

Word Count: 5.1k

Warnings: cussing, mentions of cheating, one line of slut shaming, kissing, a little bit of angst but plenty of fluff, they're idiots your honor, mentions of unrequited love (but it's really requited), regular mentions of superstitions

“Luce, I’m not so sure I can do this anymore.” You looked to the redhead next to you, shrugging your rehearsal bag further onto your shoulder.

“You said that last year.”

“Well last year I didn’t have to dance with him.”

Lucy opened the school door, a heavy sigh escaping her. “He’s not that bad once you get to know him.”

“Correction: he’s not that bad to you.” You swung open your locker door, wrestling your duffle bag into it. “You guys are friends we are…”

“Two people with intense sexual tension.” Lucy interrupted as you trailed off. A quick smack to her thigh was received.

“Not every rivalry has sexual tension.”

“No, but yours does.”

“Oh shut up!”

“Why is Lucy shutting up?” You looked up to see Norrie wrapping her arm around her girlfriend.

You stood up and began walking to the choir room. “She’s trying to convince me that I have sexual tension with that asshole.” You gestured to the lanky figure at the front of the room, fixing his hair in the mirrors whilst vehemently arguing with George.

Norrie gave you a look as if to say ‘Is she wrong?’ which left you shaking your head as you walked to the front of the room.

“Ah, my vice captain. Nice of you to join us.” Lockwood poked.

You raised your eyebrows. “Vice captain?”

He nodded. “Like a presidency? I’m the captain, you’re my vice captain.”

“You’re mistaken. I’m the captain and you’re my vice captain. I mean,” you crossed your arms in an effort to seem more nonchalant, “I have more experience as a captain, being the dance captain of Elegance too.”

“If I was a girl, there’s no doubt that I would be the dance captain of Elegance and you would be my vice captain there too.”

“There is no such thing as a vice captain. You’re co-captains. Sit down.” Barnes spoke, gesturing to an empty spot on the risers.

Lockwood leaned to whisper quickly in your ear, “He only said that to save you the embarrassment of losing that argument.”

You flicked his thigh, whispering back a, “Fuck you.”

He gave you a wolfish smile in return. “In your dreams.”

You simply rolled your eyes. You don’t truly remember when you really began hating Lockwood. You suppose it had always been that way. You never really spoke much except for talking about choir in history your freshman year, and even then it was brief comments about upcoming concerts. Then came your sophomore year with a shared English class, which began this weird competitiveness between the both of you. Though you have to admit, your rivalry was the primary reason you escaped that class with an A. But that didn’t make him any more bearable.

You turned to your right to see Lucy already looking back. She mouthed ‘tension’ before flashing an innocent smile and turning towards your director. 

“Your show this year will be a kind of romance-y theme. Think rom-com. Weird tension to soulmates.” Lucy nudged you. “To combat any… hormonal drama,” you cringed at his words, “we’re gonna pair you up for the show. You’ll each get a designated dance partner, bond with them throughout this season. Learn to trust them. There will be a lot of partner dancing.”

“Just make smart choices.” Holly smiled. Barnes gave her a quick thumbs up for her addition to his little spiel.

“Our first pair is our two dance captains.”

“Kill me now.” You muttered through gritted teeth.

“Kill me first.” He muttered back.

You were in for one hell of a season.

The first rehearsal was admittedly rough. Every chance you and Lockwood had, you were whispering insults underneath your breath or coughing while the other demonstrated a move.

By the fourth rehearsal, you and Lockwood began to trust each other in your dancing. And even began to bond a little. Sure you still traded little insults whenever he stepped on your toes (or vice versa), but for the most part you became friends.

By the tenth rehearsal, you realized you actually enjoyed your little dynamic. Your hatred turned to teasing and you even began talking to him after rehearsals. This of course earned you more teasing from Norrie and Lucy, but soon even George began to join in as your friend group developed.

Next thing you knew, it was the night before your first competition. You turned to Lockwood after your final runthrough of the night, hoping to give him a high-five, but was caught off guard as he ran his hand through his hair. Dancing and singing was no easy feat so you weren’t surprised that he was sweating, it was just the fact that you found his sweaty hair attractive. It was probably just the stage lights, but you quickly found yourself staring at him.

“You alright?”

You quickly nodded, shaking yourself out of your thoughts of, well, him. “Just thinking about our competition tomorrow.”

“Hey, we’ll be fine. It’s not our first time competing against Fittes. There’s nothing to be worried about.”He reassured as your face dissolved into one of horror.

“Shit.” Lockwood raised an eyebrow at your choice of words. “Kipps.” You answered. His brows furrowed.

“You worried your boyfriend isn’t gonna like our show or something?” You shook your head in dismissal, your face changing to one of disgust.

“He’s not my boyfriend anymore. Cheated on me with Kat Godwin about a month ago.”

“Oh, I didn’t know. I’m sorry.” You shrugged off his sympathy till his lips forged into a grin. “It’ll make our win even more rewarding. We’ll put that motherfucker in his place.”

“Yeah, except there’s one step of our little revenge plan missing.”

“Oh?”

You nodded. “In my heartbreak, I may or may not have made an ill-advised decision. And let's say that I told him that I already found a new boyfriend.”

“Oh.” You nodded, pursing your lips as the reality of your situation sunk in.

“So we need to find you a boyfriend.” You nodded. “They don’t sell those at the supermarket, how are we gonna find one overnight?”

“You don’t.” You sighed. “I’ll need to find someone to fake date me for the season.”

“One hiccup with that plan. Fake boyfriends aren’t sold at the store either.”

You nudged him with your shoulder as you began the walk to your car. “I know they don’t. But to get the ultimate revenge, I happen to know someone who he very much hates.”

Lockwood paused beside you, leaving you to turn to him, facing the consequences of your suggestion. “You want me to fake date you?” You gave him a sheepish smile.

“Maybe?”

You watched as he considered it in silence. “If I said yes, I would be doing this the whole season?”

“Preferably.” You watched as he fiddled a bit with his ring. A habit of his you began to notice more as you increasingly spent time together. “But only at competitions. The rest of the time you can go back to hating my guts.”

“I don’t hate your guts. I never have.” You felt heat begin to creep into your cheeks at his words. Maybe you won’t have to worry about finding a fake boyfriend overnight if you get sick before the first comp. “So we’ll just piss off Kipps?”

“Only at comps,” you assured. You sat in silence once more, the cold February air leaving you impatient at the length of his consideration. He was likely finding the best way to turn down your proposition.

You turned to walk away, reaching your car door as he called out, “Let’s do it, babe.” You looked to see him wink at you, feeling the heat flush once more. “Let’s get our revenge.”

You sent him a smile, climbing into your car, and hoped that the feeling in your stomach would subside before tomorrow morning.

The bus ride to the competition was spent huddled over your phone resting atop your shared mountain of garment bags, conversing the details of your fake relationship, and drinking a coffee that Lockwood gave you earlier that morning. He told you they gave him the wrong order and offered it to you, saying it was “too sweet” and that he only wanted an americano. Luckily for you, they mistakenly gave him your favorite latte.

By the time you arrived at the competition, you were a bundle of nerves just itching to finally perform. A quick glance at the clock (and your comp itinerary) left you and Lucy in a rush to find your dressing room to get ready for your performance with your girl’s group, Elegance.

You and Lucy stood backstage after your warmups, watching your stage crew and band load on. You fidgeted with your dress as you double checked your heels were on the right feet. You made that mistake once in a rehearsal your freshman year and vowed to always check before each performance. Just in case. It was a superstition you’d developed.

Thinking of superstitions, you grabbed Lucy’s wrist, giving it a quick tap as you watched Barnes motion you all on stage. Taking your places, the show began.

It was an utter blur, the adrenaline melding the whole show together into what felt like seconds, until your solo began. As you grabbed the mic, you looked to the audience and finally acknowledged the brunet boy sitting front and center. You met his eyes from the stage as he smiled brightly at you. With a quick wink in his direction, you returned the mic to the stand as the rest of Elegance returned from their costume change.

The bows began too soon. You could’ve spent all day on that stage just to know that Lockwood was watching you. He was smiling at you. And not one of his teasing smiles, a real smile.

Still in your costume, you met him in the hallway, running to give him a hug.

“You were incredible. That was incredible!” He was muttering in your ears, as he placed your feet back on the ground.

You simply smiled up at him, caught up in your proximity to him. It wasn’t uncommon to hug people in the midst of a post show reverie. It’s just that you’ve only ever been so close to him when choreographed. It felt different to feel his hands on your waist when it was a choice of your own volition. Your attention shifted as you felt a tap on your back.

Lucy, who you lost earlier in the hallway as she ran to find Norrie, was now pulling you back towards your homeroom to get changed.

“What the hell was that?”

You looked at her. “What the hell was what?”

“Your sexual tension turned romantic.”

“It did not.”

“It did.”

You jumped. “Jesus, George! Where did you come from?”

“I was right next to Lockwood. You were just so caught up in your little rom-com moment that you didn’t notice me.” You frowned.

“Not true, it was not a rom-com moment.”

“You literally just reenacted running through the airport to stop him from flying to Amsterdam to start a new life without you.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“I’m surprised you didn’t kiss him,” Lucy added.

You simply groaned in response. “Lockwood and I are just friends who are fake dating.”

The two raised their eyebrows. “That’s new.”

“That’s really new.” George agreed.

“Kipps is here. We’re trying to piss him off.”

The two nodded. “You’re going for a Proposal kind of thing.”

“Luce, what does that even mean?”

“We have to get you caught up on your rom-coms.” Lucy nodded at George’s comment.

You rolled your eyes. “Whatever. Just, if Kipps asks, Lockwood and I have been dating for a couple of weeks since the breakup.”

And with that, you entered your homeroom to change back into your normal clothes.

“They’re hopeless, Luce. Hopeless.”

“They’ll figure it out sometime soon. Just give them till the end of comp season.”

Once changed, you met Lockwood in the cafeteria, the two of you looking for a seat in the expanses of the cafeteria.

“Well, what do we have here?” You steeled yourself at the sound of your ex’s voice and looked to Lockwood who had already spun around.

“Kipps. What a surprise.”

“Tony! Always a misfortune to see you here.” He turned to you. “I see you’ve become the rebound for our little princess over here.”

“She’s not your princess.�� Lockwood stepped forward as you reached for his wrist. “Why don’t you find someone else to bother? I’m sure some of Tendy’s kids are getting bored without someone to insult.”

Kipps simply ignored Lockwood and looked at you. “Tony? Really?”

You let out a dry chuckle. “I could say the same thing about Kat.” Kipps’s face twitched with anger as you continued. “And at least I found someone who actually cares about me, something you could never manage.” You laced your fingers with Lockwood’s. “And his name is Anthony, not Tony.” And with that you pulled Lockwood away.

When it was finally time to perform, you found yourself fidgeting backstage again. Lucy quickly tapped your wrist, leaving to go back by George, her own dance partner. Still toying with a sequin on your dress, you glanced at Lockwood whose hair was in spikes as he continuously ran his hand through it.

“You look like a mess.” You whispered. “Are you always like this before a performance?”

He only nodded. As stage crew was almost done loading on, you quickly grabbed his wrist to stop him. “There’s no way I’m letting you go onstage like this. You look like you’ve been electrocuted. Can I fix your hair for you?” He simply nodded once more as you went on your tippy toes to fix it, wobbling a bit in the process. Lockwood’s hands flew to your waist to steady you, giving you a rush of that same nauseous feeling in your stomach. You brushed off the thought, rationalizing it as nerves, and quickly admired your work with his hair. Adjusting his tie, you flashed him a smile. He responded with a simple squeeze to your hips before he turned to see Barnes gesturing the choir onstage.

The performance was a whirlwind, and before you knew it, Lockwood was dipping you in his arms, his hands supporting your waist. He gave you a little squeeze, identical to the one before you began performing. A large smile had engulfed his features, as he pulled you out of the dip, twirling you as you both exited the stage to the sound of a thundering applause.

“Holy shit.” You exhaled a laugh and turned to Lockwood.

His hands had found their way back to his hair, spiking them up yet again. You found yourself thinking back to yesterday’s rehearsal when he had done the same thing. Without the stage lights, he somehow looked even more beautiful, with his leather jacket pulled taught around his arms. He smiled at you before leaning in to whisper, “We put that bitch in his place.”

You simply laughed along with him, walking back to the homeroom to meet up with Lucy, George, and Norrie.

Later that evening, your choirs were huddled together in a corner of the vast auditorium awaiting the emcee to announce the finalists. In a swarm of the students, one Lockwood was missing, leaving you frantically searching for him. Swatting a sophomore from the seat beside you, you felt Lucy lean over to whisper, “You’re whipped.”

Her words were quickly forgotten by the arrival of the boy holding a pretzel. He tore a piece, squeezing through the row to settle beside you. “Want some?”

Wordlessly, you took it, and turned your attention back towards the stage as the emcee, one Mr. Fairfax, entered. Reaching to Lucy, you linked pinkies with her.

“Going first in your large mixed finals is Tendy High School Swing Sensations!” Squeezing Lucy’s pinky harder, you felt Lockwood’s knee knock into yours, his hand opened beside him, inviting yours.

Lacing your fingers, you heard Fairfax continue. “Second in the large mixed finals is Bunchurch High School Encores!” You felt your body tense. Only two more finalists.

A thumb brushed over the back of your hand, softly. Like a whisper of comfort that one was unsure to offer. You squeezed his hand again. He squeezed right back.

“Your third finalist tonight is Fittes Academy Vocal Excellence!”

You dropped your head, holding your breath to better hear the announcer. “And last but certainly not least, Portland Row High School’s Fusion!”

You exhaled, leaning over to Lockwood and linked your arms with his. “One step closer to revenge.” And with a smile you turned back to Lucy to discuss the possible results of the competition.

On the way to your warm-ups, you felt Lockwood reach over to lace your fingers together. Looking up at him, you saw the pure anxiety on his face. Squeezing his hand, he turned to you, his brow unfurling ever so slightly.

As the Fittes crew exited their warm-ups, Kipps shoulder bumped Lockwood, knocking him into you. His once anxious features dissolved into one of anger, his jaw clenching.

“He’s only doing that because he knows he can’t win.” Lockwood turned back to you, taking a deep breath before the warm-up began.

Once again huddled backstage, you checked down at your shoes while Lucy tapped your wrist again.

“Can you fix my hair again maybe?” Lockwood whispered.

Back on your tippy toes, you checked his hair and straightened his tie. “Are you superstitious, Lockwood?”

Without words, he squeezed your hip before turning to wait for Barnes’ directions.

On the stage, you only got to see Lockwood performing. With his big smile and irresistible charm, it was impossible to think of the boy you saw backstage. The one who holds your hand and squeezes your waist. You’re not sure which Lockwood you liked more: the dazzling performer or the one who needs you to fix his hair. Once your second number was finished, you hit your pose, one Holly was quite proud of. It’s not necessarily even a pose, it’s just a hug. In your quick embrace, you heard Lockwood exhale into your ear, quiet enough to not be picked up by any of the mics, but loud enough for you to hear his words.

“I like when you call me Anthony.” As Norrie began her solo, your mind kept repeating his words. It was as though he was stuck in your head; a broken record on repeat. You found yourself suddenly relating even further to the ballad as you began to sing once more.

Once the bows commenced, you met Lockwood’s eyes as he dipped you for your final pose. It was then you decided that the Lockwood you liked most was Anthony. And as he twirled you offstage, you felt that same nauseous feeling settle into your stomach.

Smiling at him, you rushed to find Lucy and Norrie. “You were right,” you whispered. “Our tension has gone romantic.” Lucy grabbed your elbow, pulling you closer to the wall. “He told me he likes when I call him Anthony.”

“What, during our show?”

“Yes!”

“When is there time to do that?” Norrie asked, huddling around the two of you. “We’re singing the whole time.”

“He whispered it during the hug. Before the ballad.”

“Oh shit.” The two whispered. “Well is it so bad that he maybe has a crush on you?” Lucy continued on. “We’re all waiting for it to happen.”

You ran your hand through your hair, squeezing your eyes shut. “No! No. He doesn’t have a crush on me. I have a crush on him.” The two shared a look before turning back to you. “Telling your friend to call you by your first name is normal. It’s the fact that I can’t stop thinking about it that’s throwing me off.” 

“Well it happened only 10 minutes ago, I’d say it’s fine to think about it after such a short duration.” You groaned.

“It’s not that it’s recent. I don’t get thrown off by things like that. Especially not onstage. He’s gotten into my head.”

“What he’s gotten into is your heart. Is that so bad?”

“Yes! Because it’s Anthony fucking Lockwood! We’ve hated each other for years, he’s only being like this because of forced proximity. Or a bet or something.”

“Keep telling yourself that. But the longer you deny it, the worse it’ll get.”

You sighed, beginning down the hallway. “I just need space from him. It’s just like a showmance, right? None of this is real.” You began nodding slowly. “I don’t like Lockwood.”

“No, you don’t. You like Anthony.” You smacked Norrie’s arm and entered the auditorium, finding Lockwood’s leather jacket over a chair. As soon as he noticed you, he began waving his arms, leaving you no choice but to shimmy your way down the rows and into the seat beside him.

“Thanks, for saving me a seat.”

“Anytime. What kind of fake boyfriend would I be if I didn’t save a seat for you?”

“A pretty crappy one.”

“Well many sources have said I’m the best fake boyfriend on the market.” You wrinkled your nose.

“What are they grading you on?”

“Charm, chivalry, and chemistry.” You rolled your eyes.

“I don’t think the person who judged you had their proper credentials.”

“Rude.” He whispered, as Fairfax entered the stage.

Reaching for his hand, Lockwood laced your fingers together and gave you a quick squeeze.

“Your third runner up, from Bunchurch High School, it’s the Bunchurch Encores!” Snapping with your free hand, you felt Lockwood’s grip tighten. “Your second runner up is the Swing Sensations from Tendy High School!”

You closed your eyes, bending your head as you awaited for the caption awards to be announced. “Best vocals go to Fittes Academy Vocal Excellence.” Holding your breath, you heard Fairfax continue. “Best visuals awarded to Portland Row High School Fusion!” You let out a sigh of relief. There was still a chance.

“And now, for our first runner up. From Portland Row High School, it’s Fusion! Which means that Fittes Academy Vocal Excellence is our Grand Champion. Congrats!” Jumping up and down with the rest of the choir, you turned back to Anthony.

“Sorry we didn’t win.” You bumped your shoulder into his, breaking him from zoning out.

“Why are you sorry? I’m sorry I talked it up so much.” You shrugged. “We’ll get our revenge at the DEPRAC comp, right?” You smiled at him.

“Until then, you’re off duty as my boyfriend.”

“You know? I was really starting to like it.” You watched him wander over to George before Lucy tackled you from behind.

“First runner up for our first competition means we can only go up.”

“Let’s hope so.”

Three weeks later, you found yourself smashed in the bus seat with Anthony for three hours. Holding an empty latte cup— they messed up his order again— you had dozed off on his shoulder halfway into the ride. Feeling a shove, you woke up to see the high school in front of you. The DEPRAC Invitational was an exclusive competition filled with dozens of the best show choirs from your area. You were lucky to even walk the halls.

Placing your garment bags in the homeroom, you heard your name being called.

“You’ve got the solo today.” You looked at Barnes quizzically.

“What solo? Elegance isn’t performing today.”

“Norrie’s out sick. You need to cover the solo.” You nodded. You had auditioned for the 

song earlier in the season so you knew the part. But covering for Norrie left some huge shoes for you to fill. “Can I trust you?”

“Yeah, I’ve got this.”

Meeting Lockwood in the cafeteria, you told him about the switch before being interrupted.

“Come to lose to the big dogs again?” This time it was you turning around first.

“Fuck off, Kipps!”

“Woah, calm down, sunshine. It was just a question!” Lockwood scowled. “And remind your little guard dog here that you were mine first. We both know you’ll come crawling back in the end.”

“That’s enough, Kipps. Leave my girlfriend alone.”

“Sure thing, Tony. No one wants a slut like her anyway.” And with that, Kipps turned sharply, leaving the two of you fuming.

“If it didn’t mean getting us disqualified, I would have kicked his ass for you.”

“That’s not your job to do. I can handle myself!” 

“I know that but I’m your boyfriend I wanna-”

“You’re not my boyfriend!” You seethed. Not sure where this anger with him was coming from, you stormed off to avoid any further arguments.

You avoided him for the rest of the day, only going near him to fix his hair and tie or to dance. You didn’t squeeze his hand or hug him after performing, despite his attempts to compliment your solo.

As finals rolled around, you found yourself more anxious than ever before. As Lockwood squeezed your waist one last time, you finally met his eyes before snapping out of his trance. You refuse to get blindsided by his pretty brown eyes, but distancing yourself from him was impossible as the whole group was packed like sardines in the wings. With a small smile, Lockwood turned around and entered the stage.

As the second song ended, you realized the breath you were holding as Lockwood posed in your hug again. His breath warm against your ear he whispered again. “I want to be your real boyfriend.” Masked by the applause, you allowed your breath to stutter before the music to the ballad began.

Departing his embrace, you grabbed the mic with shaking hands. This love song, this twisted and toxic depiction of love you were singing about found a resolve deep in your bones, the chills of the rest of the choir singing behind you settling across your skin. The fear of a boy who found a chink in your armor resounded in your heart and the anger of a confession you were too blinded to accept. It felt like hours when Lockwood finally squeezed your hip one last time as you twirled off stage.

Gripping his leather jacket, you pulled him into a hidden vestibule, the adrenaline of your performance still coursing your veins.

“What the hell was that?” You seethed.

“The truth.”

“Couldn’t the truth have waited?”

“You’ve been avoiding me all day! When else was I supposed to tell you?”

“Never! You were never supposed to tell me!”

He groaned, running his hands through his sweaty hair. “I had to tell you! It was killing me! I’ve wanted to be your boyfriend since freshman year. And the second I finally thought I had a chance with you, you came to school with that stupid Kipps as your lock screen. How do you think that felt?

“To be second place to an asshole like that for so long! I hated how I still liked you, so I pretended to hate you. To drive you away. And it finally worked! But the instant you asked me to fake date you was like a dream come true. I couldn’t deny it anymore that I still wanted to be yours. To even pretend you actually reciprocated any feelings was as good as any other. But it wasn’t enough for me! I need you.”

“You’re making this up. You got caught in the whirlwind! It’s just a showmance!”

“You don’t know that!”

“I do! You don’t mean any of this and you’ll regret it all by next week. Trust me I’ve-”

He pulled your waist, capturing your lips in a heated kiss. Grabbing his lapels, you quickly found yourself kissing him back. Wrapping his arms tighter around you, he further pulled you into him till your bodies were fully flesh against each other. Pulling away, you tried to lean back in but he further pulled back. “Since you’re so sure it was fake, there’s your proof. I’m done waiting for you.” And he turned down the hallway.

The second you snapped from your daze, you ran to find him, but he was already lost in the crowd. Finding Lucy, she pulled you aside, taking you to Barnes. “Found her!”

“Perfect, where’s Lockwood?”

“Behind you,” you turned to look at him but his attention was fully on your director.

“You two are our reps for awards tonight. Got it? Head backstage.” You both looked at him. “Now!” Turning back towards backstage, the two of you departed, a heavy silence falling over you.

“Can we talk about this?”

“What is there to talk about?” Crossing his arms, Lockwood turned from you.

“Anthony, please?”

“Some lovers quarrel.” You look up to see Kipps and Kat. “This is just your first heartbreak of the day. Can’t wait to watch you lose.” And with that, you were beckoned on the stage for the presenting of awards.

“Your second runner up, from Rotwell High School, the Rhythm Makers!”

You brushed your pinky against Lockwood’s, smiling when he relented and linked them together.

“Your vocal caption award goes to… Portland Row High School Fusion!” Your smile spread further as Lockwood squeezed your pinky. “And our visual caption award goes to… Fusion again!” Turning to smile at Lockwood, you found him already looking at you.

“And now, for your first runner up.” You began holding your breath, squeezing Lockwood’s pinky even tighter. “Fittes Academy!” Your jaw dropped as you began smiling in realization. “Congratulations to our Grand Champions from Portland Row High School!” 

Holding the caption awards and trophy, you and Lockwood watched as the rest of your choir joined you on the stage. Each given a medal, tears and hugs were shared. Exiting the stage, you grabbed Lockwood by his medal, pulling him back to that same vestibule.

Pulling his lips to yours, you felt his hands find your waist, squeezing it gently. “Revenge is only fun if it’s real.” You muttered, lips still brushing gently over his. “This is real for me, Anthony.” Looking into your eyes, he pushed your hair back before capturing you in another kiss.

You felt him begin to smile into it, brushing his thumb over your cheeks. Reaching to play with his hair, you deepened the kiss until finally pulling apart for air.

“I think we should kiss after each performance.”

“Yeah?” He looked at you, the teasing smile you were so familiar with painting his face.

“Maybe I’m a little superstitious.”

[buddierecs]

mutual pining buddie fics

all of these are general audience, teen and up or not rated (no smut) make sure to kudos/comment on these amazing works :)

i could find you darling, in any life by: justhockey "buck and eddie meet in afghanistan. it changes everything." word count: 27k important tags: diferent first meeting au, army!eddie diaz, navy seal!evan buckley, emotional infidelity, slow burn, hurt/comfort, love confessions drench yourself in words unspoken by: foxwatson "the one where everything in canon is the same, except eddie diaz is secretly a bestselling romance author, and nobody knows. yet." word count: 26k important tags gay disaster!eddie diaz, idiots in love, getting together this is it, all the flames by: withoutthetiger "set sometime in the middle of s6, just a quiet surprise in the middle of buck's kitchen." word count: 4.6k important tags: requited love, friends to lovers, soft boys, first kiss, diary/journal i want your midnightsby: allyasavedtheday "in which eddie decides to rent out his spare room to help with mortgage repayments right around the time buck decides to move out of abby's place after some not so gentle prodding from maddie. it's a coincidence. or serendipity. or maybe just really good timing." word count: 36k important tags: roommates au, slow burn, alternate pov, fluff, friends to lovers no kingdom to come by: waywardrenegades "when his father experiences a health scare, eddie flies to el paso." word count: 23k important tags: feeling realization, love confessions, slow burn, idiots in love, light angst all bets are off by: nobodyknows_u "the five times the firefam realized Buck and Eddie were in love, and the one-time Eddie finally did something about it." word count: 35k important tags: 5+1 things, idiots in love, team as family, fluff and angst, didn't realise they were in love it's always been you by: coupe_de_foudre “what do i normally get from there?” eddie asks him, chin settled back onto his shoulder. “the kung pao chicken.” he answers almost instantaneously, having all of eddie’s usual take-out orders memorised by now. it comes in handy for when they need to get food in quick whilst navigating work and christopher. it’s not weird. he, unfortunately, misses the odd look that maddie sends him. as well as the way that hen hides a snicker behind a cough." word count: 8.7k important tags: 5+1 things, oblivious idiots, feelings realisation, getting together, fluff the definition of love and all things ineffable by: elvensorceress "in which buck processes his breakup, learns his place in his family, has a huge crisis of sexuality, and finds the truth about love beating in his own heart" word count: 29k important tags: idiots in love, christopher diaz has two dads, coming out, sexuality crisis, family feels but, baby, watching you blush by: calvingseason "buck and eddie go to hershey for buck's high school reunion. the only problem? everyone thinks that they're married." word count: 10k important tags: fake marriage, sharing a bed, gay!eddie diaz, high school reunions baby, say you'll always keep me by: hattalove "the one in which joking about being married to your best friend is all fun and games, right up until you realize that you're not laughing" word count: 8.2k important tags: didn't know they were dating, getting together, friends to fiances, first kiss the thing is by hideeho "when eddie's friend carlos comes into town to escape a broken heart, eddie has high hopes that he and buck will hit it off and become friends. that’s all he wants, really. two of his favorite people getting along. if he could just get buck to stop glaring" word count: 18k important tags: carlos reyes (911 lone star), jealous!evan buckley, oblivious!eddie diaz, healthy male friendships, miscommunication eddie's not-so-secret feelings by: r_e_r6 "5 times eddie says sweet things about buck in spanish so buck doesn't find out he's in love with him +1 time eddie realises buck speaks spanish and knew all along" word count: 17k important tags: buck speaks spanish, fluff, soft!eddie diaz, feelings realisations, making out