#thank you for blessing me with these lads

[faceeeeee]

Thank you

@faceeeeee blessed.

[dawnbreakersgaze]

Excuse me????

Gowned up Grey and Zayne?!

I drew gowned up Grey ages ago but 😩🥴😩🥴😩 HES SO CUTE IM 😍

Also, the shape of his eyebrows and ears we can see them unobstructed and PLS IM DOWN SO BAD someone get the phenobarbital I can not be allowed to live like this lmao 😂

[lotus-sunn]

Wake up 10s a 5 is speaking and I have wonderful news! MY BIRTHDAY IS COMING UP! april 25th if your curious! AND I HAVE GOTTEN TWO PRESENTS!

[quirinah]

g=9.8m/s^2 

[fancyhats-and-fennelsbuds]

Fav movie you've watched recently?

Hello hellooooooooooooooooo!!! Aaaaaa oh dear, you just opened my pandora's box👁️

Recently I happened to watch lots of 60's, 70's and 90's movies (I'm destined to ever cross paths with vintage memorabilia. and the more I discover. The more I crave.) but some that most made me perk up my eyes and ears (can eyes be perked?) are:

First movie! RATATAPLAN, Maurizio Nichetti, 1979

I discovered this gem very recently and unfortunately I haven’t even finished watching it (sigh sob sigh I got so little free time rightnow) Made on a very low budget and being the directorial debut for Maurizio Michetti, this film had a huge success when it arrived in Italian cinemas. The story follows slices of the life of the neo graduate engineer Colombo, who through tormentedly absurd comic gags, yet unquestionably full of small human injustices (and social), undeterred, he searches occupations to make ends meet. What made me fall with this story of 'little failures happening in the course of our daily life' -- besides the pure comic skits that come out from every corner while you least expect it (or when you expect it; but you laugh anyway because the consequences are usually an even greater disaster that the one expected) -- is the fact that the film it's almost a 'silent movie', or rather, follows the rules of the 'Mr Bean conlang" (yes, I now created a new term) with the help of of a very narrow Italian vocabulary and excerpts of other languages, all this surrounded by a varied brocade of onomatopoeic sounds "(…) making the dubbing of the film almost superfluous." {source | wikipedia|Italian}

(Also the movie's opening is so incredible , Engineer Columbo is the true shape of our contemporary hero because i say so, also it gives off strong middle seventies vibes

Second movie Miniseries! Orlando furioso, Luca Ronconi, 1975

Born on the wave of discreet success that arose from the homonymous theatrical version of Luca Ronconi (made after Ludovico Ariosto's chivalric romance epic poem Orlando Furioso), the script meant for the theatre was rewritten to accommodate a television production (divided in five episodes) alas by depriving the work of the original's immersivity that it gained by including the public during the action happening on the stage; while also letting mutiple simultaneous scenes happening in the same theatre's room so the public could personally choose the way to follow the storytelling happening in front of their eyes. {sources |cinemedioevo.net| Wikipedia| Italian} Some of the details that makes the television version so fascinating is that it was shot in multiple castles, basilicas and palaces'… interiors! (Palazzo Farnese, Terme di Caracalla, Basilica di Santa Maria in Cosmedin, Teatro Farnese and Palazzo della Pilotta di Parma. {sources |Wikipedia|Italian}). Maintaining the use of scenography and manners of acting suited for the theatre world, the series creates a sort of epic fairytale dream time bubble, even through the use of machinery for the mobilization of carousel-like horses and mythical beasts (choosing purposely to let the viewer see the 'magic' that makes the beast fly or the horses roll run!). Extreme pantomime, actors flailing arms and bodies like opera singers. This extraordinaire work of art is for those who wish to spend some hours of dreamlike feverish visions of knights, magicians and bridesmaids in otherwordly costumes that seem to have come to life from medieval tapestries. I searched aimlessly for possible dubbed or subtitled versions in other languages than italian. I can only come back from my quest by humbly offering open handed the original.

Whenever you can or can't follow all this medieval Italian versify, I would give it a try just to have a peek into this extremely seventies-born madness! Here's an article that talks about the touring theatre version (Italian)

Now a bit of spam

Mechanical beasts! Mechanical beasts! Hippogriph and the Orca (killer whale) di Ebuda

Also in this house we stan my sister in Christ (literally) knight warrior Bradamante

[thecoolestastrophile]

I LOVE pathetic men

Beg For Me

Day 19 of Kinktober: Visions of Temptation hosted by @xxsycamore found here Featuring: Love and Deepspace | Rafayel x f!reader Tags: mdni, smut, begging, oral sex, orgasm denial, restraints/light bondage, dom reader, sub Rafayel Prompts: Begging | “I thought this is what you wanted?” A/N: Didn't think I'd get around to this today, but I somehow managed to pull this out of my ass. Warning, this has not been edited, apologies for any errors! ao3 link here.

Rafayel was sinfully groaning, a delectable red flush glowing on his soft, supple cheeks. He trembled, the tongue running up his shaft having him pull at the Evol-blocking handcuffs restraining him to the headboard of his plush, luxurious bed.

“Cutie, I need to… I need to…” He moaned pathetically, as you swirled your tongue on just the tip of his swollen cock. “Let me finish inside of you.”

You sucked up, and he slipped out of your mouth with a resounding ‘pop’. “You forgot the magic word,” you tutted, wrinkles forming between your brows. 

“Please… please let me finish inside of you.”

The ache he felt was clear in the breathy timbre of his whining mewl. Pursing your lips, you feigned being deep in thought, the vision of Rafayel splayed on his bed just too enticing to stop.

“But darling… I thought this is what you wanted?” 

This was true. Just last week, Rafayel had discovered that your handcuffs blocked the wearer’s Evol, and he had insisted that you use it sometime in bed with him, though you were sure he meant using it on you, not on him.

“On you! Not–” Rafayel’s breath hitched as you took him in your mouth again. “Not to torture… hah… torture me!”

You gave his tiny slit a sultry lick, tasting the hint of his salty pre-cum still leaking despite your endless teasing. “Hm… naughty.”

“Baby… baby, please, it’s been like an hour…” Rafayel looked at you imploringly, his puppy dog, purple eyes pleading with you to end his agonizing frustration. “Please… cutie… I’ll do anything, anything… just a taste.”

You wickedly grinned, nibbling up his shaft while your hand rubbed circles on his raw, overstimulated tip. “Anything?”

“Anything!” A shudder ran through Rafayel’s body when he felt your teeth very lightly grazing where he was especially tender. “Let me fuck you, please.”

You sank your teeth into him, just enough to send a jolt of electrifying pain up his back. “Language, Raf.”

Rafayel growled, the full extent of his pent-up frustration rumbling through his throat, a feral, desperate demonstration of his displeasure. He violently bucked his hips into your mouth, hitting the back of your throat and causing you to gag.

You sat back on your heels, the sudden departure of your mouth leaving Rafayel to whimper in agony. You tsked, slowly shaking your head back and forth.

“Bad, bad boy.” 

With a dangerous, cheeky, taunting smile, you pulled down your underwear, making sure you trailed your fingers along your legs as you removed the flimsy piece of fabric, delighting in the way Rafayel’s eyes bulged out of their sockets as your glistening cunt came into view.

“Yes… yes, cutie, just a… a taste,” Rafayel croaked, practically drooling as his eyes took in the scrumptious meal before him.

“Just a taste,” you purred, and sunk down onto his twitching cock, all the way down until he was fully buried within your folds. “You like that?”

Rafayel eagerly nodded, closing his eyes and groaning as your walls enveloped him in their warm embrace. “Yes, baby… ngh… you feel, feel so good.”

“Hm… it’s too bad I have to punish you for choking me with your filthy cock.”

You had to suppress the rising giggle tickling your throat, the sight of Rafayel’s eyes snapping open in fear too adorable.

“No, baby, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it,” Rafayel babbled. “Please don’t punish me, I’ll do anything, anything you want, just please don’t torture me anymore.”

With a hum, you reached for your phone on the nightstand and sat upright, keeping Rafayel pinned between your legs.

“Baby… cutie…” Rafayel’s cock twitched furiously.

You ignored him, focusing only on the phone in your hand.

“Babyyyyy, you’re so mean.”

You shook your head, giving him that look, the one where you meant business, quieting Rafayel’s protests to a feeble whimper.

“No, darling. I want you to lay there and think about what you did, and maybe, maybe I’ll let you play with me.”

It took everything in you not to burst out laughing at the absolutely devastated look that crossed Rafayel’s face.

[kagehisanotsu]

living vicariously thru my sisters first year drama

[gay-dorito-dust]

I love ur writing sm omg- so glad you’re writing for lads too!! ❤️❤️❤️

Sorry to add to your pile but could u do a thing for sylus (and maybe zayne if that’s ok) with an S/o that always asking lil questions like “can i kiss u”, “can I sit on ur lap”, “are u sure I can use ur card”, or just silent and shy physical cues like holding their fingers when s/o wants to hold hands ?

I hope that makes sense 😭

Sylus finds your innocent requests of simply wanting to sit on his lap, kiss him, little things that he believes you didn’t have to ask to do and he’ll remind you of such when he effortlessly pulls you into his lap one day.

‘You know you don’t have to ask for permission kitten, you can just take what you want from me instead.’ He tells you as he places one of his hands on your waist, thumbs caressing your skin over the fabric of your shirt.

‘I don’t want to take advantage of you.’ You trailed off, lowering your head out of a need to not look into his observant crimson eyes, but you should’ve known better if you though Sylus was going to allow you to avoid eye contact with him, only realising your mistake the moment you felt your lover grip your chin and brining your eyes back to meet his smirking face.

‘If you wanting to kiss me, sit on my lap and hold my hand is you taking advantage of me, then who knows what you’d think when desiring the more scandalous and intimate aspects of our relationship.’ He chuckles as he leaned forwards to kiss you on the lip, biting your bottom lip playfully and tugging it before pulling back to see your cute expression. God he couldn’t get enough of how you always act like it was the first time he had kissed you, it only made him want to kiss you more but then he remembered be was trying to teach you a lesson . ‘Now did I take advantage of you when I kissed you just now?’ He asks.

‘No.’ You murmured softly, fiddling with your hands, felling a little silly. ‘No you didn’t.’

‘Indeed. Which is why you’ll never take advantage of my love for you, and while It’s sweet that you ask before doing, but I’d much rather the action of having your lips pressed against mine so sweetly as you always do.’ Sylus then leaned in close until your foreheads were touching, his crimson eyes locked on you yours with a playfulness, leaving you with your cheeks becoming warm.

‘Really? You wouldn’t mind?’ You asked, looking deeply into his eyes for the answers that you seek. Sylus kisses the tip of your nose as he moves back. ‘Of course my sweet,’ he began while his calloused fingers brushed against your jaw and down your neck delicately as though you were the most precious person within the room, which in his eyes you were. ‘Nnot that I had any issue to begin with, take what you want and don’t you dare apologise afterwards. You have my heart already and intend for you to keep it.’ He finishes.

You felt flustered beneath his gaze but his words left you with a newfound confidence that you then tested out by holding his face and covering it with kisses. The kisses were soft and gentle like a thousand butterflies wings were beating against Sylus’s face, they were enough to make him smile in content at your first step into a form of comfortability within your relationship with him, and he couldn’t help but draw you closer to him to the point you were squished against his chest.

It was obvious to Sylus that you were still a little nervous with giving affection without asking for his permission first, but he was more then willing to help you break from that habit in due time, but for now he’s more then willing to sit back on his chair and let you smother him in sweet, shy affection as his chest blossomed with warmth and want. He has you to thank for many things and he promised that you’d never have to ask his permission for anything, for you to take what was already owed to you the moment you blessed him with your company.

You’ve already took his heart without permission, so why not kiss him, hug him, caress him without permission also, you were already his to begin with…

Zayne finds it sweet and endearing that you ask for his permission, even though he had reassured you that there was no need for you to do so, he was your lover and he was more then content with you taking kisses from him to your hearts content.

It warms his heart personally.

However despite all that reassurance you still ask for his permission regardless or silently take his hand in yours and rub your thumb against his purely out of a need to feel him even more. Though then again Zayne was no different for he was cut from the same cloth, he wouldn’t kiss you unless you allowed him to, nor would dare to let his hand wander lower south unless you were comfortable with; Zayne valued your boundaries and wouldn’t dare overstep them either way.

‘Zayne?’

‘Yes my love?’ He replied, looking at you.

‘May I kiss you?’ You asked, fiddling with your fingers. Zayne smiled as he puts aside his book and reached out for your hand, pulling you close to him as he stood from his chair, both of your faces mere inches away from each other. ‘Of course.’ Zayne said and with that you gave him a sweet, tender kiss on the lips, letting it linger there before pulling away, showing him that sheepish smile you often had after giving him any ounce of affection.

‘You know you don’t have to ask to gift me your affection.’ Zayne then said softly, holding you against him by the waist, loving the way your warmth seeped into him.

‘You do the same thing.’ You retorted and Zayne did see the irony in this, he always did, but still he sighed when he felt as though his point wasn’t getting across. ‘That is true how observant of you my love, but I want you to know that you can do whatever your heart desires to me, for I know they come from pure intentions and know you would never lead me into thinking otherwise.’ Zayne said as he looked into your eyes and smiled. ‘I trust you with my heart, I trust you with my love and my trust for I know that your hands are the only ones I’d trust to hold them and myself if I ever feel like I’m falling apart.’ He finishes and you couldn’t help but feel a little emotional over his confession, you smiled brighter then you did before as you gingerly held his face between your hands, caressing his face as you watched him melt into your touch and nuzzling his face against your skin like a cat.

‘Zayne…’ you trailed off.

‘Please my dear, for me.’ Zayne’s voice was barely above a whisper when he spoke his plea mere inches from your lips, his hot breath fanning across your face. It didn’t help that he was asking you so sweetly to just give in that you couldn’t help but feel your resolve crumble as you leaned in to kiss him, kickstarting your journey to giving Zayne affection without asking for permission, for you already had his trust and love for the very start.

[nanamiscocksleeve]

When The Snow Melts

Warnings: MDNI, soft sex, virginity loss, angst, and some spoilers for those who aren't familiar with Zayne's lore. A/n: Curiosity got the best of me. I wasn't playing LaDS when the Master of Fate card came out so I went to YouTube and immediately regretted it. Like can this man not catch a break? He sacrifices himself again? I couldn't leave it, so this me, correcting the wrong. A fix-it fic if you will. Because I need Zayne to win, at least once. Also, since Zayne appears according to how MC perceives him, I do believe he will have aged exactly as she has.

The night is bright, and the small cobbled lane you walk on is lit with lamps. The streets are bustling with life. The feeling of excitement, togetherness, and aromatic food graces the air as you wander closer to the town square. Another festival, similar, yet not similar, to the countless ones you’ve seen with your keen eyes. 

You’d wanted to be in company, maybe see the world when you were young, and the curse that was also a blessing was granted. Your body, now wispy and weathered from the years spent wandering cannot move as quickly as you used to, the ever-reminding aches in your joints, the beginning of arthritis weighing down in your bones. Yet you still had a zest for life. Because what else could you do but seek, and take in everything that life had to offer? How could you not? Because it was the grace of the god that allowed it and the terrible price that was paid for you to experience it.

It had been decades since you had last seen the god. You had traversed as far as you could, carrying your umbrella with the everlasting snow coating it like wool on a freshly birthed lamb. The things you had witnessed! Ships with sails as tall as oak trees, strangely flavored meats and delectable sweets, festivals where people had danced, music from instruments brought in from faraway strange lands. You had eaten, traveled, danced, and sung, picking up small jobs to afford simple pleasures. You were a quick learner. Once you were a seamstress helping a small garment shop, another time a jewel polisher. You had even worked as an errand maid for an elderly couple who were profuse with their thanks and offered you a roof over your head for a short while. But staying in one place wasn’t an option. You had to keep looking after all. How else would you find him again?

As your feet carried you into the square, a burst of light and color filled your vision. It’s so lively, as the people flock to the different food carts, admiring the small handicraft booths, and singing folk songs well known to all those who grew up in this region. Children joyfully chased each other, dressed warmly in bright clothes. A hint of winter was already in the air. Based on what you had observed, this festival was celebrating the end of the harvest season, probably one of the last for this year until the harsh snowfall of winter faded. The breeze, not quite chilly enough to make you shiver, felt comforting on your face. 

You supposed you could work as a midwife again. Midwifery was good work, reliable since winter did not stop the delivery of children into the world. It could also guarantee a place to stay if you played your cards right, though you hated staying in one place. The nomadic lifestyle you had adopted suited you. And the winters made you nostalgic. 

It made you long for those days before you had picked up this umbrella and set off to see the world. Of amber eyes flecked with green, like the jars of whiskey at the inns when the early morning sunlight brushes against them, bringing forth colors hidden in the dark glass. Or of soft hands, covered in scars, and whispers in your ear of sleep, of priestesses calling gods down to earth to make love to them. Sometimes the memories consume you to the point of anger.  How dare he leave you? With no explanation as to what his blessing was. 

You vaguely recall those days, back when your fingers weren’t gnarled and wrinkled, your face unblemished by the years in the sun. All spells have limitations, he had said. But he also said he had taken care to make the spell extra strong since you were particularly clumsy. The snow had to melt sometime…didn’t it?

A drum begins to pound in the distance, and the crowd gathers around the stage that had been set up at the far end of the square. You halt at one of the carts to buy some fried chicken skewers. The vendor looks curiously at your umbrella, something you have grown accustomed to over the years. After all, snow that doesn’t melt was bound to bring questions. You had woven a different story for each city you had passed through, sometimes recycling them when you didn’t have the creativity to spin a new one. Initially hesitant to reveal how the umbrella with the everlasting snow had come into your possession, you had tried to pass it off as a novelty accessory, crafting tales of snowy mountains and how it was all the rage in those areas.

As the years passed by, your tongue had loosened. Or perhaps the indignation of him disappearing had made you reckless. Although you still hadn’t said the full story, you’d managed to finally say it was a blessing from a god, shocking the non-believers by letting them touch the snow, their gasps of awe as the cold, wet, powder clung to their fingers falling satisfyingly on your ears. Tonight, however, you were in no mood to entertain strangers. You smile politely as you hand over your coins to the vendor, take the food, and walk away towards the stage. 

The sounds of a flute and an erhu accompany the drum. Elaborately dressed dancers are swirling in coordinated grace on the stage, enacting a scene from an old tale; the common man sending off the goddess of harvest, thanking her for her blessings that year, and praying to the god of winter, that he be merciful to them and allow them to live to see another spring.

You were skeptical if these rituals really worked. The first autumn after you had been gifted the umbrella when the air started to show signs of change, you had danced, danced amongst the trees that were close to shedding their vividly colored leaves of red, mustard, and yellow. You had prayed your heart out, prayed so hard, danced so long that the soles of your shoes had almost worn out. You had danced till you had collapsed with exhaustion, falling asleep on the leafy floor. You had been so sure that it would work, that he would show himself, and when you awoke, it was with a heartrending pang that you realized you were alone. It hadn’t worked. Wherever he was, the god of the snow wasn’t visible to your eyes. It was the first time you had allowed yourself to cry in all those months. Had he really believed this was the better choice? That to leave you behind without telling you what was going to happen to him would make you happier? That was the worst part; not knowing if he was alive, existing somewhere you couldn’t journey to, or if he had given all his power into making the snow that had fueled your existence, and lost himself with it. 

The music becomes faster and the dancers move until the stage is a blur of color. The audience claps as their movements become sharp, with an artistic precision that only years of practice could hone. The last note quavers from the flute and rises into the night air. Cheers and whistles erupt all around you. It was a beautiful performance no doubt, but despite finding it captivating, it also left you feeling hollow. Finishing the last of your fried chicken, you begin to wander amongst the townspeople, enquiring about work that could be had for the winter.

By the time the square had cleared up, and the last of the festival-goers had returned home, you had secured a job; a bakery was in desperate need of an extra set of hands. The pay wasn’t much but the woman had offered food and board and you had accepted graciously. As you sit on the stone steps of your latest lodgings, you gaze at the moon. 

You want to not blame him, to not feel this heavy weight that you’ve carried inside your chest. You know you should be grateful for his sacrifice which enabled you to see so much of the world, and at the least, you weren’t alone. The incident with the people in your village was a distant memory, replaced with so many more pleasant rememberings. Plucking apples from an orchard with trees growing as far as the eyes could see. The feeling of a newborn baby, screaming with the rage of life and the mother wiping tears of joy while offering you her thanks. The herbalist with his toothless smile as he showed you which plants were medicinal and which were poison as you plucked various flowers and leaves and dug the earth for rhizomes of turmeric and ginger. 

You were a well-traveled woman, knowledgeable in all aspects, a rare luxury during this time, you knew. Yet for each memory that stayed clearly in your mind, there was a sense of loss. Everything tied back to him, and you couldn’t bring yourself to forget him, even in your old age, and even with the passage of time. 

The spicy bun the baker had offered you was good. You savored its flavor on your tongue, naming the constellations visible in the sky as you did so, the short astronomy lesson from a young scholar in some past time proving useful. It must be close to midnight based on how still the night is, the whispering rustle of dead leaves as they skitter across the ground audible in the background. With a sigh, you carefully get to your feet, your joints creaking as you rise. As you reach for your umbrella, you pause, fingertips hovering over the handle.

Surely you were imagining it? It must be a trick of the moonlight. The last of the lamps were dying, the faint light casting shadows across the walls of the dwellings. Yet your aged eyes couldn’t shake off the feeling. You stare intently at the umbrella, more so, at the snow perched on its upper slope. A fine sheen of condensation coated the umbrella, surrounding the powdery snow. Had you somehow gotten the umbrella wet? You kneel, observing with fascination as some of the condensation gathers, becoming fat droplets of precipitation, and rolling off the sides.

You’re awestruck. In all your years, the snow had never melted. It had never lessened nor increased but always stayed the same. But now you can see how the powder was turning watery, steadily dripping down into the cold ground. You trace a fingertip on the trails of moisture along the sides of the umbrella, and that’s when you hear it; the unmistakable twang of a guqin. 

You had never encountered a guqin again, not since the night he had played one while you danced for him. The unmistakable notes now begin to form a melody. You look out into the empty street and see nothing. But the song was filling your body like the warmth of a fireplace. Your limbs involuntarily stretch out as your eyes close, remembering the movements you had learned so long ago and sworn to never repeat after the failed attempt to call down the god. Your legs feel unsteady, your hands clumsy, a far cry from the controlled accuracy of the stage dancers. Your joints begin to sear as you move, unable to stop the actions. Oh how sweetly the instrument sang to you!

There’s a sharp pain in your heart, not from the ache of moving your tired extremities, but from the grief bottled up, adding on year after year. There’s resentment, but underneath it all, there’s a strong yearning you’re unable to put into words. How do you describe it? The loss of the only person who seemed to understand you, who helped you control your power?

You knew he did something when he placed his spell because, since that day, you hadn’t been able to harness your powers ever again. He had ensured you could live your life as a normal human being. Before knowing him you would have done anything to not have the power. But the cost that came with it was too much to bear. You weren’t alone, yet you were alone. So of all the days, why was the guqin playing now?

Tears roll down your cheeks as you dance, letting loose your sorrow to the crisp night breeze. You feel like each nerve in your body is frayed, all consumed with the bits of memories you had of him. It takes you a moment to realize you’re not dancing anymore. The guqin has stopped playing. You’re standing in a pose, your head lowered, facing the steps you had been sitting on, and the umbrella leaning against them. Shock passes through you. 

The umbrella was completely devoid of snow. The only evidence it was there was the puddle of water that had gathered beneath it, muddying the grass. 

“Why are you so surprised?”

Your heart skips a beat, then begins to hammer in your chest like a frantic bird trapped in a cage. The deep baritone voice tinged with a hint of sarcasm calls out to you gently. You can’t seem to be able to move. 

“It can’t be.” You murmur, gripping your elbows, trying to calm yourself. “It can’t be. I’m dreaming.”

“What are dreams if not another reality?”

It takes all the effort in your body to not collapse to the ground as a sobbing mess. You turn slowly, as though giving the voice a chance to admit it was a figment of your imagination but it doesn’t happen. Your breath catches in your throat as you see him, at last.

His dark hair has tinges of gray in it, and crow’s feet are visible near the corners of his eyes, but the gentle upwards curve of his lips, the broad shoulders, and his pointed chin are all recognizably familiar. 

“Zayne?” You let his name fall from your lips, sounding like a strange word, lost to your vocabulary from the years of disuse. 

He nods, then stretches out a hand to you. At first, you’re at a loss about what you should do, then, with as much speed as your wizened knees allow, you run to him. He’s solid and grounding, his arms wrapping around you tightly. A brief lick of rage crosses through you, but when you open your mouth to let loose your diatribe, all that comes out is a sob. Your tears flow freely, staining his robes, and you feel his gloved hands gently combing through your hair.

“I’m so sorry,” he murmurs, his chin resting on top of your head.

“Why not tell me?” Your words are choked, your body shivering as you cry. 

Zayne leads you to the steps and helps you sit before occupying the space next to you. He leans you against him, your head resting comfortably on his shoulder as he takes one of your hands between both of his. He sighs deeply and his voice, though calm, is filled with regret as he speaks. 

“How could I tell you? What would I have said? How do you tell someone special to you that their life was in danger?”

You blink back tears. “Danger?”

“There was a powerful entity after you. I did what I needed to do to protect you.”

“Why was it after me?”

Zayne pauses, as though considering how to word his response. “It was convinced you would bring about a cataclysm, and the only way to prevent it was to take your life.”

“But… I don’t understand. How did your spell prevent this? Now that it’s worn off, won’t it come after me again?”

“No.” Zayne wraps his arms around you, his body bringing warmth into yours. “Even cataclysms go away if given enough time. But the harder part was figuring out how to suppress your abilities until that time passed.” He sighs deeply, gathering you close. “The spell on the umbrella was the only solution I could think of, without restricting your freedom. Regrettably, sealing your power meant taking away your ability to perceive me. I never intended to make it permanent.”

“Why not tell me?” You repeat the question. Zayne raises an eyebrow.

“If I had told you the spell would wear off, would you have left the mountain?” He brushes your cheek with his thumb as he takes in your face, his eyes softening as he looks at you. “I know you. You would have spent all these years in isolation, waiting for me. I didn’t want you to miss the opportunity to live. A normal life seemed like the best option I could give you until enough time had passed.”

You’re silent as you let his words sink into you. After a gap, you whisper, “I missed you.”

“I missed you too.” His thumb caresses each of your fingertips in turn. “But know that I watched over you every day. I saw the world through your eyes and felt your sense of wonderment in my heart. The day you danced so hard for me that you almost fainted from exhaustion-” Zayne draws in a breath and his voice quivers as he continues. “I was in tears. I wanted nothing more than to reach out and comfort you. I was there, separated by a veil, but I felt your pain.”

“That was the year the frost came early.” You recall the memory. 

“Indeed. I couldn’t control my grief. I didn’t know how else to let you know I was there, except to cover the world with snow.”

You glance over at the umbrella. “Will you disappear again?”

“Not unless you want me to.” One of his large hands rests on your knee. “I understand I’ve angered you by acting without telling you everything. Is it enough that you don’t want me around?”

You shake your head no. Your momentary anger with him had faded, like the night giving way to the sunrise. “There’s nothing that could keep me from wanting you. I made many acquaintances throughout my life, but the one person’s companionship I yearned for was yours.”

“My beloved snowflake.” Zayne embraces you tenderly. “It was fate that led you to me on the mountain that day. And It was fate that finally broke the spell. We’re all bound by it, even me.”

“Are you?”

“Yes. Otherwise, do you think I would have kept you sealed for so long? Even gods must play by fate’s rules.”

Silence falls between you both,  the breeze ruffling your clothes. You become acutely aware that he’s gazing at you, and when you turn to look at him, there’s such tenderness in his eyes that it makes you blush, even at this age. 

“You’re beautiful,” he utters, tucking strands of stray hair behind your ears. The amber in his eyes glows as you stare back, captivated by how handsome he is. Your memory didn’t do him justice. You cup his cheek. 

“Is this our happily ever after?”

“It can be if we choose it to be.”

“I do. Wholeheartedly.”

Sparks fly between you and almost as if the both of you are following a rhythm, your lips find each other in the darkness. It’s odd because, in the passing years, you hadn’t imagined what his lips would feel like against yours. You had fantasized about lying next to him, listening to his heartbeat, about taking long, leisurely strolls while holding hands, and about the possibility of letting him rest on your lap while you played with his thick locks of hair.

Now you’re glad you hadn’t tried to imagine it because the reality was sweeter than any dream you could have conjured, the warmth and softness of his mouth, the taste of his tongue as it slips past your lips, the possessiveness in his grip as he molds your body against his, as though silently claiming you. There wasn’t an inch of you that didn’t ache for him. When he pulls away, there’s desire flickering in the depths of his eyes.

Wordlessly, you take his hands and get to your feet, quietly pulling him inside your new quarters. You’re careful to not wake the baker; it was quite improper to invite a man into your room, but you didn’t care. You lock the door and allow Zayne to sweep you away.

Clothes slide to the floor, a whisper lost to the dark. There’s no shame as you reach for each other, hands relishing the feeling of skin, enjoying the contact between your bodies as he gently pulls you onto the bed. His lips leave trailing kisses on your skin, no longer supple like the young woman you once were, but worthy of being worshipped irrespective. You wonder if this moment would have felt different if you had consummated this relationship when you were younger but realized you had little choice in it. If the Master of Fate couldn’t control when things happened, then what good was it to think about what could have been?

Instead, you focus on him, on his skin flushed with vitality as you nibble his ear, shyly running your tongue down his neck. He suckles at your nipple, and pleasure, unlike anything you’ve ever experienced radiates into every part of your being. You feel his erection graze your belly as he patiently kisses you, moaning into his mouth as his fingers stroke your sex, finding the little knot of nerves that makes you close your eyes in ecstasy.

It’s all slow and unhurried, and when you finally gasp out your climax, he eases his body into yours. There’s pain, but only for the briefest moment, then as your body stretches around him, you feel a powerful sense of intimacy as he thrusts, his movements passionate and loving. He gathers you tightly against him whispering the same thing over and over as he empties himself. 

“I love you. I love you I love you I love you.”

A weak ray of sunlight peeks through the window when you wake up, and you panic for a moment when you see the bed is empty. 

“I’m here my love.” Zayne’s voice immediately reassures you and you see him stoking the fireplace. The small flames crackle merrily as he makes his way back to bed, pulling you against him and stroking your skin. It had snowed overnight, and the landscape was now unrecognizable, covered in a fresh coat of it. 

“It appears grief isn’t the only thing that can cause the god of winter to make it snow,” you tease and Zayne good-naturedly smirks at you. 

“Indeed. All thanks to you.” 

You giggle, a soft sound that fills him with joy. 

“I suppose we’re stuck in this village until winter ends. Makes no sense to wander for now.”

“Agreed. I suppose I can set up shop as a fortune-teller, or maybe as a herbalist.”

“We’ll decide what to do when spring comes.” You settle against his chest, finding comfort in the scent of his skin. 

“The snow has to melt sometime. But we’ll survive. Together.”

“Together.” You agree, and lay your lips over his. 

© nanamiscocksleeve original work | no copying, plagiarizing or translating support banner by @/ cafekitsune

@theimmortalbuns @otomegamesforlife @sweets-kozume @supernaturalbaesduh @ladyparamount

[putuponpercy]

AWWGH MY BABY BOY BRAUN THIS IS SO INCREDIBLY SWEET 😭 💕💖

@putuponpercy I was thinking about Braun, and I had a thought :)

As Braun's fifth day on Sodor came to a close and he'd been parked in his berth for the night, the night sky was bright, filled to the brim with stars. Unlike his home, Sodor had comparatively little light pollution, and out here at the berths near the china clay pits, the stars seemed to stretch on for miles, a tapestry of pinpricks dotting the sky. There were so many that it made Braun gasp in wonder, the sight so foreign to him that it felt somewhat out of sync with the world that he knew.

Braun could relate to that sort of feeling.

"So!" Bill called, backing into the berth on Braun's right. "How d'you like Sodor so far?"

"It's alright," Braun replied with a smile. "It's just that... everything's so different here."

"I'll bet!" Ben chimed in, coming into the berth on Braun's left. "Not too many lights, lots of space, decent people..."

"...and engines!" Bill grinned.

Braun just chuckled at his siblings' good cheer. His smile then curved, taking on the shape of something more contemplative. "All the same, though, I'm getting the sense that I don't fit in. I've seen how your friends Edward and BoCo look at me; they're convinced that I'm going to pull some kind of prank like you two any day now. Even though I've just tried to be my usual self, it's like they don't believe me. Maybe I should play a prank, just to... I don't know... get it out of the way so they'll stop giving me side-eye like they're waiting for me to make a mess."

Bill and Ben both frowned at Braun's words, glancing toward each other as though passing some unspoken message between them. Finally, it was Bill who spoke up first. "Braun, that's dumb."

"Yeah," Ben agreed. "Don't do that. If Edward and BoCo are being stupid, that's their fault. You've never liked pranks, so don't do it just because you think you should or other people think you should."

"That's right!" Bill picked up. "Remember what we told ourselves as we were leaving the workshop?"

A small smile came to Braun's face at the memory; three little engines side by side, laughing and giggling as they stayed up through their last night together, wringing every moment they could out of the dawn.

"We were going to do what we wanted, when we wanted" Braun whispered, and his brothers grinned in response.

"Exactly," Bill confirmed. "And if what you want is to be nice, then just do that!"

"Heck," Ben exclaimed, "that'll be the greatest prank of all! They'll just keep expecting it all the way up until you leave, and then they'll be bamboozled when it never happens!"

This caused his two brothers to explode with laughter, mirth filling the sheds as the stars leaned in, as if hoping to get in on the joke as well.

At long last, once their laughter subsided, the three brothers closed their eyes and drifted off to sleep, absolutely, perfectly, in sync.

[manikas-whims]

LADS men + Halloween Costumes

Now with Sylus solo banner upcoming, the possibility of getting a Halloween quad banner is nil. And i’m happy for it cuz this has saved me from making a really bad financial decision 😆

anyways here's some mulling over the LIs costume choices..

SYLUS

Option 1: Vampire

If we consider Sylus’s overall aesthetic, then Vampire is the most obvious choice for him. He can't go out in the daylight for some inexplicable reason; definitely a creature of the night. He has red eyes that glow in the dark. And even during Destiny Café interactions, he playfully sinks his teeth into your palm. No doubt he'd enjoy sinking them more into your neck 🤭

Also like imagine a 5 star Sylus Halloween card where MC begins suspecting Sylus to be a vampire. And the whole card revolves around her trying to collect evidence. Even Luke and Keiran begin to suspect Sylus thanks to MC and the 3 join forces. The card ends with Sylus playfully scolding all of them 😆 and laughing in disbelief, in that deep cadence that he has 😊

Option 2: Demon

Another obvious choice. If not a vampire, then the red eyes and dark aesthetic are also quite befitting for a Demon attire. A very charming demon who lures you into sinning by offering his black card 🤭 and ofcourse you willingly sell your soul to him.

Option 3: Bounty Hunter

You know those charming sorts of outlaws that everyone loves and roots for? Yeah, that would fit so well with Sylus. Especially the steampunk aesthetic. So yeah..a steampunk style, bounty hunter Sylus with an array of weapons strapped all over. He only works solo but will definitely make an exception for you 😌

Option 4: Crow

Unlike the other two, this option involves a big, poofy bird suit. A crow outfit to be specific. And he looks simply adorable in it 🥺 Imagine yourself trying not to laugh as you sneakily take millions of photos of him in this outfit 🤭 while he sneers at you but there's no actual anger behind his gaze.

XAVIER

Option 1: Werewolf

It may sound unusual upon first thought but this will play so well into his overall persona of the “wolf in sheep's clothing” or “wolf in bunny clothing”. He did nibble on your finger and sniffed your scent in the No Restraint card. And I'm damn sure he has a thing for biting and marking. So just imagine him putting on the wolf ears, claws and fangs, and he starts acting more sly than ever, saying he's only playing the part 😉

Option 2: Royalty

Another obvious choice. Xavier is pretty used to this cause he is royalty afterall. So assuming a position of power comes easy to him (remember Floral Blessing?). Maybe some sort of chivalrous and gallant prince because he can easily add his swordplay skills to it. Seeing him regard you as his queen will be a treat sweeter than all the candies 😌

Option 3: Lumiere

You think it's the most hilarious inside joke— Lumiere hiding in plain sight amidst the crowd of Linkon on one night where a large majority would be dressed as their legend. Their hero. Xavier absolutely hates it! And he hates the amount of people he spots in Lumiere costumes. But he'll put it on upon your insistence. Just be ready for the consequences later on cause this man is jealous of his own superhero alter-ego 😭

Option 4: Angel

Xavier with large white wings protruding from his back would be another fitting sight with his overall white/silver aesthetic. Imagine him as your guardian angel, always watching over you, protecting you and trying his best to guide you on the right path, despite his own desires for you.

Option 5: Bunny/Alien

If not the above choices, then some cute/sexy bunny costume (though we've already got our bunny butler). Or a really silly alien costume that somewhat resembles his sticker set. We know he'll look squisher than ever in those 🥺

ZAYNE

Option 1: Mad Scientist

Something similar to Dr. Faustus or Dr. Frankenstein (yeah Frankenstein was NOT the monster but the name of the guy who created the monster..in case some people still don't know 😭). Zayne’s personal goal– his obsession and drive– to keep MC alive is somewhat similar to Dr. Frankenstein’s obsession with unraveling the secrets of life and well..ultimately beating death by bringing someone to life. And Zayne's hunger for knowledge is also similar to that of Dr. Faustus’s who readily sells his soul to the devil in exchange for knowledge.

So yeah..Zayne as a mad scientist, obsessed with knowledge and the drive to keep you alive would be intense 💯/💯

Option 2: Tutor

He'll sigh, take off his glasses and pinch the bridge of his nose in annoyance, like he always does. But you'll somehow convince him to do it because he's incapable of saying no to you.

It starts as a silly costume idea but the moment you see his legs clad in those unusually tight-fitting slacks and the pointer stick in his hand, you realize you might have a tutor kink and that you wouldn't mind misbehaving cause you'd actually enjoy getting punished by him 🫣

Option 3: Snowman/Penguin

The cute option! Definitely Dr. Carter, Yvonne and his other co-workers coaxed him to put it on for the little kids visiting Akso hospital throughout the week. When you stop by for a scheduled check-up and stumble upon him, you can't help but take loads of pictures of him with the kids 😊

RAFAYEL

Option 1: Merman/Siren

Just like Xavier as Lumiere, Rafayel as a merman on halloween would be such a spectacular inside joke.

At first he'd be offended because the fake tail you bought for him would feel like an insult to the real thing. He would pout and narrow his brows but after your constant cajoling and sweet-talking he'll agree to indulge you. And it's all fun and games until you realize why all those sailors in fiction are so terrified yet turned on at the mere sight of a merman/siren. He'll entice you so easily with his velvety voice 😵‍💫

Option 2: Assassin

Don't fall for his pretty face. Rafayel can be cunning, deceptive and deadly when he wants to be. (in the main story and also as Abysswalker). As such, putting on the attire of an assassin would come easy to him. His charm is as lethal as the numerous daggers he conceals within his clothes. He’ll strike you right in the heart. Can totally imagine him doing finger guns at you 😉

Option 3: Chick

Pouty babie in an adorable chick costume with a beret and paintbrush, like his sticker pack. Imagine him struggling with the bulky costume, trying to waddle towards you in annoyance, demanding you to immediately help him take off the costume. Despite it all, he'd let you hug him and take selfies. He'll hate every minute of it but still pose properly when you take pics 😆

these are just some silly thoughts..what are your costume ideas for each LI 🤔

» MASTERLIST «

[cutielando]

old money aesthetic | g.r.

social media au

synopsis: in which they scream old-money couple

my masterlist

liked by lilymhe, landonorris and 2,194,176 others

yourinsta i love life with you 🤍 tagged: georgerussell63

view all 483,957 comments

georgerussell63 i love you

yourinsta i love you more

landonorris why

yourinsta why not

landonorris we're sick of seeing your cute couple photos 😐

yourinsta not my fault

user1 they are so old-money coded i can't- 🥲🥲

user2 Y/N is the definition of perfect, George is so lucky

user3 they're so classy 😩😩

alex_albon looking good

georgerussell63 always mate

user4 will Y/N be at the next Grand Prix?

yourinsta i will ! 🥰

user3 MOTHER IN THE PADDOCK 😩😩

francisca.cgomes i can't wait to see you !!!! 🤍🤍

yourinsta me too!! ❤️

user4 the friendship we didn't know we needed

f1gossippofficial we love seeing you guys! liked by yourinsta

user5 her style is to die for

user4 for real, she is so classy and elegant all the time

user5 and she is so sweet too. i met her at a grand prix a while back and she was so happy just talking to me and stuff. even got george to sign my hat for me, she is so kind

user3 she sounds like such a nice person to be around

user6 would she accept friendship bracelets from us?

yourinsta i do !!! i have a collection at home, bring them to me and we can exchange them !! <3

user6 omg 😭😭😭😭 you just made my day

liked by yourinsta, lewishamilton and 3,913,756 others

georgerussell63 Back to work 💪🏻

view all 832,579 comments

yourinsta ooof, who's this handsome lad? 😩

yourinsta so proud of you

yourinsta i love you ❤️

georgerussell63 i love you too, baby 🤍

user1 not Y/N being just as unhinged as us in the comments

landonorris thank you for sparing us

yourinsta i will hit you 😐

georgerussell63 i'll do it for you, babe

landonorris please don't

oscarpiastri why is Lando so scared of you all of a sudden, George?

yourinsta it's me he should be scared of

oscarpiastri got it

georgerussell63 you heard her

user2 such a good weekend for George ❤️❤️

user3 Y/N was there to be his lucky charm, he did so good 🥹🥹

user4 i want what they have, i need to know what their love feels like🥹😩😩😩

alex_albon did Y/N take these photos?

georgerussell63 she did. why?

alex_albon i was just appreciating the first good photos of yours that i have seen

yourinsta don't be mean alex

user5 Y/N to the defense, we love to see it

landonorris surprised you didn't pose shirtless

georgerussell63 y/n wouldn't let me

yourinsta damn right, those abs are for my eyes only😠

landonorris i didn't need to know that

yourinsta why did you leave a comment then?

landonorris i don't even know anymore

user6 where can i buy myself a George?

yourinsta you'll find them for free in King's Lynn

user6 she responded, i'm gonna cry😭😭😭

liked by yourinsta, yourbff and 94,286 others

f1gossippofficial Fan favorite grid couple, George Russell and Y/N Y/L/N, looking as good as always during the afterparty of the Singapore Grand Prix. tagged: yourinsta and georgerussell63

view all 16,285 comments

user1 they are so old money, i swear😭😩

user2 Y/N is so stunning, George really hit the jackpot with her😩

yourbff gorgeous, my favorite old-money couple

yourinsta not you as well 🙄

user3 existing at the same time as them should be considered a blessing

user2 amen to that

user4 i wonder if the old-money aesthetic comes naturally or something

user5 probably, apparently Y/N actually comes from a very old-school rich family

user4 really? she's really down-to-earth and humble for someone who comes from a rich background

user5 she's always wanted to make a name for herself without using her family's money, apparently

user2 we love an independent queen

liked by yourbff, landonorris and 2,382,470 others

yourinsta little getaway with my love ❤️ tagged: georgerussell63

view all 938,172 comments

georgerussell63 spending time with you is my favorite thing to do🤍

yourinsta i love you🫶🏻

landonorris i thought you were going to stop this

yourinsta just get a life lando 🙄

georgerussell63 i agree with her, mate

francisca.cgomes you two are soooo cute !!!! ❤️❤️

yourinsta not cuter than you and pierre my love !!

georgerussell63 yes, we are. sorry pierregasly

pierregasly in your dreams, brit

user1 they are my roman empire

user2 WHY ARE THEY SO CUTE OMFG 😩😩😩

user3 why can't i have what they have😭😭

alex_albon you two look like you just stepped out of a novel or something

yourinsta thank you alex, that is very kind of you to say

georgerussell63 so we basically look like book characters?

alex_albon yes

yourinsta georgie, it's a good thing, don't worry

georgerussell63 ooh, got it

lilymhe alex won't do this with me :(

yourinsta UNACCEPTABLE !!!

alex_albon you haven't even mentioned anything???????

yourinsta you're supposed to read her mind, alex

alex_albon ...you are both killing me

liked by yourinsta, alex_albon and 3,284,927 others

georgerussell63 kind of seeing where the trend comes from tagged: yourinsta

view all 834,271 comments

yourinsta we're dominating pinterest right now

georgerussell63 as we should

yourinsta that's the attitude babe

alex_albon noooooo, now i can't make fun of you two with this anymore :(

georgerussell63 sucks to suck

alex_albon did y/n tell you to say that?

yourinsta no comment.

user1 they are finally embracing it

mercedesamgf1 we love you two ❤️

yourinsta we love you too, merc admin ❤️

georgerussell63 ❤️

user2 they get classier and classier every time they post ❤️❤️

user3 i want this

francisca.cgomes you two are goals ❤️

yourinsta i love you !! ❤️ liked by francisca.cgomes

yourinsta i love you, sweet boy

georgerussell63 i love you more, my sweet girl

user4 you guys are killing us

formula1wags she is the best wag on the grid, nobody can change my mind

user2 this

user3 facts

user1 she really is

comments and re-blogs help us grow!

much appreciated!!

REQUEST HERE

[f1byjessie]

A PICTURE IS WORTH A THOUSAND WORDS ━━ LN4.

sometimes the right words are hard to come across, and sometimes everything you need to say can be captured in an image.

( lando norris x photographer!reader )

━━ part nine.

INSTAGRAM.

liked by yourusername, oscarpiastri, and 714,148 others

tagged: yourusername

mclaren As we get closer and closer to the start of the 2024 season, we thought we’d take the time to introduce new fans to the team that works behind the scenes! Starting us off, we have Y/N L/N, our personal paddock photographer! Y/N has been here with us at McLaren since 2019, and is the genius mind behind many of the photos we’ve posted throughout the years. She’s an important part of our community and helps tremendously in not only capturing our drivers in action, but also in getting the other behind the scenes members of our team the recognition they deserve. We’re glad to have her back here with us in Bahrain, and we can’t wait to see what beautiful concoctions she comes up with this year! 🧡

view all 9,147 comments

user if there is 100 y/n fans, i am one of them. if there is one y/n fan, it is me. if there are no y/n fans, i have died.

user love love LOVE that mclaren takes the time to recognize the hard work of everyone who supports the drivers

↳ user i feel like f1 promotes the racers, team principals, and pit crew so much and forgets about everyone else that makes sure these teams are able to function so seamlessly

user CAN WE GET A MEET THE ADMIN POST TOO??? 👀👀👀

user i bumped into y/n back in silverstone 2021, like literally bumped into her, and she was so sweet!!

user she’s my photography inspo 🤩

user her dedication to the mclaren team is so apparent when you think about the fact that she DOESN’T get the same recognition as the drivers, but she has chosen to work for them for what will be 6 years as of this season. she could have easily move to a different formula 1 team or even another sport entirely, but she still comes back and that’s a dedicated artist

↳ user the fact that she did a little stint over at manchester city fc and STILL chose to come back to mclaren even tho i imagine f1 has a much harsher and stricter schedule with the intercontinental travel than football does

user this is who we have to thank for all those beautiful shots of lando??? cuz if so, bless her omg 🙏🙏🙏

user in this household we appreciate the crew that works tirelessly to keep us entertained

user so tired of seeing ppl disregard her skill as a photographer just bc of who she’s dating

↳ user OMG SAME

yourusername glad to be here, can’t wait to travel the world with these amazing people 🧡

INSTAGRAM.

liked by oscarpiastri, mclaren, and 214,051 others

tagged: mclaren

yourusername locked in and ready 😎

view all 1,514 comments

oscarpiastri so glad you’ve gotten over your temporary obsession with blue 😁

↳ yourusername so glad you haven’t lost your ability to get on my last nerve 😁

↳ oscarpiastri so glad you’re still insufferable even on your best days 😁

↳ yourusername now that’s a comeback i can be proud of 🥹

user MISSED THESE LADS OH MY DAYS

user ONE DAY UNTIL TESTING GUYS

user oscar looking fine asf these days 😩 that winter break treated him well

mclaren The boys are back in town!

↳ yourusername dare i say my milkshake brought them to the yard?

↳ mclaren It certainly called us 😍

↳ yourusername you flatter me mclaren admin 😌

↳ mclaren Only the best for our best 😘

user that’s some pretty intense eye contact from lando in the last image…

↳ user he ain’t even looking at the camera

↳ user nah bruv is def looking at y/n 👀👀

↳ user I NEED THEM TO GET OVER WHATEVER HAPPENED AND GO BACK TO BEING FRIENDS CUZ I MISS THE BANTER IN THE COMMENTS

↳ user i think we should probably respect their privacy and understand that something happened (presumably in the off season) that we weren’t privy to. so long as they can both maintain professionalism around one another, they don’t have to do or “get over” anything. does it suck to see two very close friends no longer get along in the way they used to? absolutely. but we don’t know what happened or if anything even did happen. in the event that something did, we don’t know who’s involved or who, if anyone, is at fault. they’re both justified in choosing to end a friendship due to a falling out, or even if they just grew distant. but even as i say all of this, it’s still speculation.

↳ user we don’t actually know if they aren’t friends any longer or if they’ve just moved their friendship off of online platforms. it should be noted that y/n is very publicly dating someone, and idk about you, but i know firsthand how delusional fans can be. her bf’s fans could easily attack her over banter with another man, and lando’s fans could just as easily start reading into that same banter which runs the very real possibility of putting all three of them in an awkward situation where y/n is being shipped with a man that ISN’T her bf.

↳ user what about the banter she has with the mclaren admin? 🤔

↳ user context is super important here. the flirting between y/n and the mclaren admin is very obviously fake. it has been from the beginning, and when ppl “ship” the two of them together it’s for the bit and to play along with their fake bromance. lando and y/n have both been legitimately shipped together since they both started working with mclaren, which changes the undertone of the shipping comments bc ppl often genuinely misconstrue their banter as REAL flirting.

user why do comment sections related to y/n always turn into debate sessions

↳ user REAL like ain’t no way i’m reading all that

user oscar’s hair sticking up in every picture is my roman empire

user I’VE BEEN MISSING THE ORANGE I’M SO GLAD IT’S BACK 🧡🧡🧡

user wait i didn’t even realize until now that this is the first post in like a month that’s actually had public comments turned on

↳ user probably bc her bf’s loser fans have finally stopped harassing her

jackgrealish must be nice having all that sun 😒

↳ yourusername it really is, bet you’re jealous

Testing goes fine, until it doesn’t.

“A drain cover?” Lando’s voice echoes across the garage. “Another fucking drain cover?”

You purse your lips.

Yesterday, he’d been upset on Oscar’s behalf when they’d cancelled the remainder of the morning session after only a couple hours to solve the problem of the track’s dislodged pieces. He’d complained and cussed out the incompetence, and then reassured Oscar that things would be better for the third day.

But the third day is here now, and he’s even more upset now being told to pit after a measly thirty minutes for the same issue.

“This is the second fucking time━” he cuts himself off with an angry huff and runs his hands roughly through the curls of his hair, letting his fingers catch on the tangles and yanking through them in his frustration. Sweat glistens on his furrowed brow. His cheeks are still flushed from the heat of the car.

It’s the most emotion you’ve seen from him since you’ve come back.

The time you’ve already spent in Bahrain has been stilted at best. Lando continues to stick with his attempts at avoiding you, but it’s harder to do so here when your hotel rooms are on the same floor and you’re limited to the confines of the garage for most of the day. Even when he isn’t in the car, there’s not a lot to do wandering around the paddock and even if there was they’ve encouraged him to stay where he can easily be reached.

You’re trying not to be smug about it, but every time you glance over your shoulder and catch him watching you━ catch him quickly looking away when your eyes meet and he realizes he’s been caught━ you feel pleased.

If there’s one thing you’ve learned about Lando, it’s that he’s always got a limit.

If you wait long enough, stand your ground and prove that you really have no intentions whatsoever of giving in and breaking the ice between the two of you, eventually he’ll cave. When he realizes he won’t get what he wants, that he’ll have to actually put in the effort to repair what he’s broken rather than having it magically fix itself, he’ll have no other choice but to do so.

“They might not cancel the session,” Oscar chimes in, attempting to placate his aggravated teammate. “Since they already had to yesterday, I doubt they’ll do it again today.”

Unfortunately, that doesn’t actually calm Lando down at all. If anything, it just reminds him again of the fact that this is the second time this same complication has happened which has him huffing angrily again and running his hands through his tangled curls even rougher.

You wince at that.

Andrea, McLaren’s team principal, steps forward. “Take a breath,” he orders, resting a heavy hand on Lando’s shoulder. “Go walk a lap around the garage or something, whatever, but I need you to calm down.”

You’re prepared for that to be the end of it, but then Andrea looks over and catches your eye. “Y/N,” he says, nodding his head towards Lando. “You go with him. Keep him out of trouble.”

Well.

You like to think you do a much better job at keeping your emotions off of your face than Lando, which isn’t hard when his features scrunch up into a pained scowl at Andrea’s words, but you can feel the pinch of your own eyebrows furrowing and the smile you send towards the team principal probably looks more like a grimace if Oscar pursed lips in your peripherals is anything to go by.

Lando storms out and you follow reluctantly after him.

He can’t really go very far, not if he wants to be within a reasonable distance when━ if━ they call him back to continue the morning testing session. So he paces back and forth and back and forth just outside the garage’s exit out into the paddock.

Your phone tells you that ten minutes pass like this. It’s the longest you’ve been alone with him in a while and his distraction lets you focus on the finer details that you’ve missed when he’s going out of his way to avoid you.

There are deep, dark, bruise-like circles that hang heavily beneath his eyes. His skin is sun-kissed and tanned from his time out catching rays during his travels, but there’s a pale pallor beneath the added color that makes him look sick. Despite his current anger and the tension coiled in his muscles just waiting to lash out and strike, his shoulders seem to droop beneath the invisible weight of whatever he’s carrying with him.

He looks small.

Lando’s always been on the shorter side, but he’s never before looked small. Not like this. Never like this.

The longer you watch, the more the back and forth pacing starts to transform into the anxious stride of a cornered animal.

You aren’t arrogant enough to assume he’s like this because of you entirely, but it does occur to you that maybe he’s having just as rough of a time as you are with the newfound distance between yourselves.

You watch him silently, for a little while longer, observing the way his stride hitches every few steps and he just barely manages to stop himself from stumbling over his own feet. He’s still running his hands through his hair. By the seventh time he practically claws his fingers through his curls you heave a sigh.

“Quit that,” you snap.

“Quit what?” He fires back with just as much bite.

You roll your eyes. “You’re gonna rip your hair out if you keep pulling on it like that.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” he stops in his tracks and turns on his heel to face you with a sneer. His words drip with sarcasm. “I forgot you must be used to Grealish now, right? And I bet he’s got at least a ten-step hair care routine. I wonder, does he use unicorn sweat and essence of rainbow to keep it that smooth and bright? There’s no other possible way!”

“You’re being an asshole, Lando.”

“My sincerest apologies,” he says. “How could I ever think Grealish would use unicorn sweat of all things? He uses pixies tears, my mistake.”

You’re not sure how a few words managed to turn into this━ you’d just wanted him to stop pulling at his hair. It looked painful and he’s always been a bit tender headed. Now, instead, you can feel the anger bubbling up inside you and it seems like Lando’s frustrations about the testing delay, and your friendship with Jack apparently, have made things worse.

Like throwing gasoline onto a flame.

You scowl, “Seriously. You’re being a fucking prick.”

He throws his arms up into the air, “Why not just run off to Grealish then? Since he seems to be your new best friend and you tell him everything.”

If your life were a movie, this is the moment in time when the stars would align and fate would force everything to position itself perfect in place. Like the pieces of a puzzle, it would all work out and you’d calmly explain to Lando what happened back in January with Garrett and Manchester City, and he’d understand immediately and apologize, and you’d hug it out and then both return to the garage just in time for them to announce the testing session would re-commence.

But your life isn’t a movie, and reality feels significantly different to the scripted perfection of fiction.

The precarious security of the perch you’ve settled yourself upon comes crashing down, and the tentative balance you’ve managed to maintain since the start of February when you were back in papaya again shatters with it. Something inside you snaps. The dam has burst and everything held back comes rushing to the front like a torrential wave.

“At least he was there for me when some prick blackmailed me into a relationship at the threat of my livelihood,” you snarl.

Lando pauses for a moment. He makes a couple different faces before settling on a mix between pissed off and confused, and his arms cross over his chest. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“I didn’t want to be in a relationship with Garrett Ward, Lando!” You exclaim. “He threatened that if I didn’t pretend to be his girlfriend, he’d fake some misconduct rumor and ruin my career and I was too afraid to say no because this is all I have!”

This isn’t how you’d wanted it all to go down. You’d always imagined you’d get the satisfaction of an apology, and that Lando would get drunk on cheap wine with you like old times, and you’d explain what all happened with the confidence of being a little tipsy and you wouldn’t feel ashamed because Lando’s your best friend and he’d reassure you that you did what you had to, and then you’d listen to him shit talk Garrett for the rest of the night. In the morning, he’d have some idea of how to fix it all without ruining your career, and then you’d be able to put it all behind you and go back to how things were before the winter off-season ever started.

This is far from that, but there’s a sense of relief that comes nonetheless from getting it all off your chest to Lando━ to the person you’ve wanted to talk to from the very beginning

You feel tears burning your eyes, blurring your vision. “I can barely pay my rent as is, and I’m only actually living there for a few dumb months out of the year anyway. Do you know how much worse it would be if I got kicked from McLaren too? Nobody else in the country would hire me if he followed through with what he was threatening.”

“Well,” Lando shrugs his shoulders, looking properly chastised. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I fucking tried, you muppet!” You throw your arms up in exasperation and then wipe at your eyes in frustration when the tears start to roll down your cheeks. “I called you every day for a week and you ignored me! I sent you text after text after fucking text━” your voice breaks, “━and you didn’t even read them! Did you know I locked myself in the bathroom and cried every single day I had to work there?”

You glare at him.

“The only thing that made it better was Jack fucking Grealish coming into my office and telling me I could at least go to him if I ever needed anything,” you snap. “So fuck off with this whole holier than thou bullshit. You left me, and Jack took your place because I was drowning!”

“Y/N…”

Crying hadn’t been a part of your plan, but the tears won’t stop now that they’re going. It’s embarrassing. You’re already worried about just how many people heard you shouting, and now you’re even more worried about someone coming back to look for you both and finding you sobbing your eyes out.

“I’m sorry━”

Lando’s arms wrap around you, warm and strong and sure.

━━ tags: @maih23 @urfavnoirette @leclercsluv @f1luvur @formulaal @a-disturbing-self-reflection @starlightpierre @chezmardybum @marshmummy @405rry @sideboobrry11 @d3kstar @mcmuppet @happylittlereader @casperlikej @5starl1ght @bellezaycafe @whentheautumnleavesfall @mess-is-my-aesthetic @ssprayberrythings @landosgirlxoxo @lifelessfan @81ja @wcnorris @a-disturbing-self-reflection (CLOSED).

━━ a/n: and there we have it folks. lando is finally back in the picture! this part was a lot of fun to write, because i've been waiting for this moment since the initial fallout in the beginning. on that note, i finished getting it all whipped up this morning while watching the qualis, so if there are any mistakes that i haven't caught that's why. i was a bit distracted, so please pretend they aren't there haha!

[lumillsie]

ೃ⁀➷ theon greyjoy x mermaid!reader headcanons ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

╰┈➤ in which something has always called theon greyjoy to winterfell's strange lake

a/n : seeing as winterfell is a landlocked city, I did have to improvise a bit, but I'm hoping you will find my take on this request reasonable <3

a special thank you to @angelseraphines for reading this for me as I was writing and making sure that my portrayal of theon didn't stray too far from his canon-self

╰┈➤ it is a strange thing - that the lake outside the city walls never appears to freeze over. the people of winterfell have speculated as to why for centuries. some say that the lake remaining as it is is a blessing from the old gods, a reassurance that the people will always have water to drink and a reminder that their gods will never abandon them. others pass down tales to their children of the children of the forest, and the traces they left behind - the weirwood tree and its roots dipped into soil, the soil that leads into the lake.

╰┈➤ theon greyjoy was not born of winterfell, but he had done his best to see it as his home. he had grown to see robb as his brother, and he cared for the rest of the starks too.

╰┈➤ in spite of his great desire to be a stark, a true part of the family, theon was always aware that his position as a ward was in truth the position of a political hostage, dangled in front of his father to ensure his loyalty to the crown.

╰┈➤ even as a boy, he was drawn to the lake. he would climb atop the city walls and sit in silence for quite some time, simply gazing pensively at the lake. it too was a strange and different thing - just as he himself was.

╰┈➤ as he grew older, his visits to the lake became less frequent - he found other ways to mitigate the strain on his heart. he would oft visit ros at the pleasure house, he'd practice his archery, he'd join tourneys. and yet, there was still something within the lake calling out to him, drawing him in - and he never truly could forgo his visits.

╰┈➤ it was on the eve of his eighteenth nameday that he encountered you for the first time. you had noticed him long ago, and you watched him during every of his visits, even allowed him to get a glimpse of the shine of your tail a handful of times. most of the mermaids beneath the lake were old and uninterested in the people that walked on land. there was a time when they lived in harmony with the children of the forest, but as the children were hunted down and brought to extinction, the mermaids of winterfell lake swore not to allow the first men or their descendants to ever lay eyes upon them.

╰┈➤ you understood their fears, truly you did - you could see the sorrow in the eyes of the eldest of your cove, a sorrow you know dates back six millenia. you feared the people that walked on land too, but you didn't fear theon. you sensed the war in his mind, you recognised the sense of not belonging. you sensed it because you felt it too, a young, naive mermaid in a lake of ancient beings - a young, naive mermaid, the first to be born in a thousand years.

╰┈➤ his eighteenth nameday was the first time he rode out of the city to spend his day on the shore of the lake, and you knew that this was the only opportunity you would ever get to see him up close. you crept closer to the shore, allowing your tail and the top of your head to rise slightly above the water's surface and keeping your eyes glued to the image of the man before you.

╰┈➤ he noticed you then, as you unassumingly lifted your head above the water - allowing yourself to glance at him. you knew your elders could not hear of this moment, for you knew how enraged they would be with you. you could not bring yourself to care, for as enamored as theon was with the lake, you were just as enamored with the towering, thick castle walls and the mystery of what lies beyond them. just as something kept calling the greyjoy lad to the lake, something kept calling you to the city.

╰┈➤ a man often accused of vanity by the whispers that surrounded him, theon was enraptured by the otherworldly atmosphere that seemed to surround you. your features were different to what he had been used to considering beautiful, but he found them enchanting to look at nonetheless. he considered capturing you, for a brief moment - he wondered if it would prove something to the starks, that it was only him that could lure a creature of the deep to the surface. he wondered if it would make lord eddard proud, or if it would solidify him as the ironborn he was supposed to be.

╰┈➤ he called out to you then, beckoning you to draw nearer. the people of the iron islands oft spoke of mermaids - of how the grey king was one, and of how he became the king of the western islands and all seas beyond, as well of the drowned god and the mermaids that serve him within the confines of his watery walls. his mother spoke to him of mermaids too, but her tales were always much gentler. she would say that the ironborn would find the most beautiful of mermaids and take them to bride, that the half-fish women would shed their tails for legs and bear their husbands the most beautiful of children, part sea and part land - as all ironborn were meant to be.

╰┈➤ you crept closer to land, nearly close enough that he could reach a hand out to touch your shimmering skin, and yet with enough of a distance between you that you could turn around and return to the depths of your home. your first conversation could hardly be called much of a conversation, and while you could speak the common tongue ( you oft listened to the people speak within the walls, their voices booming and echoing through the cove beneath the city), you had a hard time figuring out what to say to him. for the most part, you simply looked at one another that very first day - until the day's end was near and the hour of the bat was drawing close.

╰┈➤ "I will return. when the sun's returned to the skies on the morrow, I will return. you best be here then." he spoke to you, a tinge of arrogance in his voice. it was as if he knew that you wouldn't defy his request, as if he knew his presence held some power over you - and it pleased him. he held so little power within the stark household, so the hint of it always inflated his sense of self. he knew that you too held some power over him, but he would not speak of it outloud.

╰┈➤ before he had encountered you, he had intended to visit ros that evening. instead, he returned to his chambers rather soon after dinner, content to sleep through the night and wait for the morning to come - the following morning he rose much earlier, quite soon into the hour of the nightingale. it was still dark out, but he wished to fulfill his duties for the day before he set out to see the lake, and the vision discovered the day before, once again. he usually wouldn't be permitted to leave the walls of the city two days in a row, but his nameday had just passed and lord stark was more lenient towards him during that time of the year.

╰┈➤ you waited for him until he arrived, choosing to draw near to the shore just as the sun appeared on the horizon. on this day, you were both much more relaxed. the moment he saw you smile he knew he had no intention of capturing you and bringing you to winterfell, content to keep these peaceful moments to himself - reluctant to share them with anyone else. you felt safer too, now that you had broken the ice and knew he wished you no harm.

╰┈➤ "speak to me of life beneath the waves" he demanded boyishly, that vein of arrogance pouring off his tongue. you minded not, noticing the sorrow beneath his gaze. you knew he was not born of here, and the people of the town oft whispered of the seaside boy taken from his home to come here. you knew it to be him the first moment you saw him dangling his legs off the castle walls. and so you spoke to him of life beneath the waves - of your sisters and brothers, all at least a millenium older than you, of the beautiful cove protected from the human eye and the ephemeral sights only you and your kin could lay eyes upon, of the elders and their refusal to allow you to draw near. he listened intently to all of it, hanging off every word of yours. he wanted to know all of it - wanted to know you more and more with every passing word that left your mouth.

╰┈➤ you spoke to him for hours on end. each time you declared to ask him a question too, he urged you to keep speaking. you spoke until the night drew nearer. he told you that he would return in half a moon's time, as he could not afford to leave the castle walls quite so often. "I will be here when you return, only if you will speak to me of life behind the castle walls" was what you said to him as he prepared to leave. he felt indignant at your words for a few passing moments, but reluctantly agreed to your request as he wished to see you again.

╰┈➤ the next time he returned, he had brought you something. a small iron pendant he acquired at the market, and he had given it to you teasingly, remarking that you should be flattered that the heir to the iron islands had deemed you worthy of such a gift. in truth, he spent the whole way to the lake pondering over if you would like it - and determining that you would with a small huff as his journey drew to a close. this time, he too spoke more freely - of his memories of the iron islands, of his family - mostly of his mother and her tales of mermaids. you laughed then and asked him if that was what he would desire, to which he winked at you playfully and told you that the possibility wasn't far off his mind.

╰┈➤ he spoke to you of what you asked of him too, of life in winterfell, beyond the walls you so often stared at. he spoke to you off lord stark, of his children and namely the boy he grew to consider his brother, robb stark. he spoke to you of archery, of his tourneys and his journeys. you listened just as intently as he had listened to you the last time you saw him. he didn't think he had ever felt this peaceful - at least not since the first time he sat atop the castle walls, the moment he first discovered the lake. as the pale hint of orange seeped into the blues of the sky, you reached out to him once and he grasped your hand in his for a few moments, opting to leave a kiss on the palm of your hand before he retreated to the city as the gentle dusk gave way to the dark night.

╰┈➤ he visited you as often as he could, without causing the stark family to worry whether or not he too was planning to incite a rebellion. he spoke to robb of you once, to assuage the concern his dear friend was beginning to show. he couldn't tell him the full truth, but he told him he met a girl who lived outside the castle walls near the city, and that he found pleasure in your company. he didn't give away too many details, but he was content knowing that robb wouldn't be too concerned with his frequent journeys. he didn't know that it was the tone of his voice and the look in his eyes that reassured his friend, as opposed to the words he so craftfully weaved together.

╰┈➤ it was during his seventh visit to the lake that he kissed you for the first time. you were confiding your sorrows of your elders' distrust to him, and he leaned down to place a kiss upon your brow, as he had begun to do from his fifth visit onwards. you looked up at him then, and he couldn't help leaning down and placing a chaste peck upon your lips, before returning to deepen it. something changed between you and him then, and you began to behave more like lovers from then on.

╰┈➤ his visits to the pleasure house had already grown infrequent the moment he met you. he still had his needs, of course - but he found it hard to find time for them as he was oft attempting to finish with his duties on time to come visit you or attempting to find something in the city that he believed you would like and hide in your cove, to keep only for yourself as he had kept your encounters only for himself. now, however, he was content to accept that he wouldn't be returning there anytime soon, thoughts of you drowning out the idea of anyone else.

╰┈➤ your relationship with theon was a playful one. he oft teased you and you'd respond by splashing water onto his tail in response. his touches were rough but kind, and his kisses were sloppy but loving. you were both content to behave as if there was no distance between what you both were, preferring to banish the question of 'what comes next?' to the back of your minds.

╰┈➤ on his nineteenth nameday, a year into knowing you - theon brought you a small cloth with the image of a yellow kraken sown into it. it was the symbol of his house, and as he couldn't quite cloak you in the traditions of westerosi weddings, he deemed this to be the most likely way to proclaim his devotion. you could wear it on your wrist, claim to your elders that you happened upon it on the shores of the lake and kept it to yourself. you didn't consider yourselves wedded, but theon's prideful exclamations of binding the world's most beautiful creature to himself would stay with you evermore.

╰┈➤ this lighthearted atmosphere was unfortunately not to last. when theon informed you of the king's family arriving to winterfell within a few days' time, you felt an inexplicable feeling of dread come over you. he had noticed it then and assured you that all would be well, that they wouldn't stay that long and that he'd return soon. nothing could keep him away from you, now could it?

╰┈➤ it would be weeks before he'd come to see you again and the sight of him twisted and turned your heart as if tearing it apart. he appeared as lonely and conflicted as he was on the day you first encountered him, the sorrow in his eyes as prominent as ever, dark lines appearing under them. he spoke to you of bran and his accident, of lord stark's capture and of robb's intention to raise the banners and march down south. this time you were the one attempting to reassure him, right up until the very moment he told you that he intended to march down south with robb. you knew that you shouldn't have been as shocked and opposed as you were, but you were afraid. you didn't know much of land, but you always knew of war - of bloodshed, demise and misery. you promised to pray for him then, even if your kind hadn't truly prayed since the vanishing of the children of the forest. you promised to pray to the old gods and the drowned god, to the faith of the seven and any others of whose existence you would come to know of. you saw him off with a heavy heart then.

╰┈➤ you attempted to listen to the people of the city from within your cove for months on end, keeping your ear to the ground for any new information on theon's wellbeing. the townspeople were just as in the dark as you were, and it only made you feel more helpless. you could slowly feel the hope within you begin to fade away as the days dragged on - that was until you finally heard his name from within the city. what you heard however, wasn't what you were expecting to hear. theon greyjoy had captured winterfell.

a/n : and that's it for my first post on this platform! I wasn't quite sure how to end it, but I'm quite content with the way I did. if you guys do want a part 2 that deals with this dynamic with post-reek!theon, please do let me know 🩷 I hope you've enjoyed reading this, and if you did - please do make sure to let me know as feedback is so incredibly important to me. thank you so very much for your time and I hope that you'll consider reading other works of mine that I hope to post on this page soon <33

PS. please do forgive me for adding tags of other characters to this post - it's the first one I've ever made and I'm trying to get my page out for people to see. That being said, I have no intention of tagging characters I don't write for, so please make sure to request them as well if you're interested in seeing more from me.

[vesprynna]

Today is my 34th birthday, aaah!! Toot toot the birthday flute!! 🥳🙌 As per usual, here's my annual birthday pinup 💖 This year features my soft forest monster lad Khalan lounging in a refreshing forest pool 💖 He's from my WIP comic project DEAREST!

A hi res downloadable version of this year's pinup + a timelapse is free for everyone to enjoy on my Ko-Fi 🥰🙌

Here are the other versions of Khalan and Willow over the years! I feel like celebrating their journey too 🥳 Which one is your fav?

🌱🌻🌾🌷🌾🌻🌱🌻🌾🌷🌻🌾🌱

Now, Im going to be a bit sappy so... Bear with me, or just enjoy the art and go on with your day, whatever suits you. Thank you for being here regardless 💖

To imagine that 20 years ago I didn't think I'd live to see my 20's... But I'm still here, and I'm so happy that I am 💖 Life's been rough, and it will continue to be at times, but thankfully there's pockets of joy to be found in the chaos. It really can be as simple as a funny tag someone leaves on my art, my best friend @unicornia93 doodling something funny to cheer me up, or the boundless enthusiasm my fiance has for ANY idea I share with him or my family being their goofy but wonderful selves 😂💖

I also want to extend a sincere Thank You to everyone who's supported and followed me over the years. Every year when my birthday comes around I always wonder how I got so lucky to be blessed with great friends, a wonderful fiance and my small but loving family... And to also be part of a community both online and offline amongst kindhearted, passionate people and artists. I don't say this often enough, but I truly appreciate each and every one of you! From my regular followers who always, always like my art (yes, I see you 💖), and to my friends, family and fiance for giving encouragement and critique to help me grow as an artist and person. You guys are absolutely wonderful!! 💖🙏

I'm glad I stuck around to experience all that life has had to offer so far. Thank you for being here with me in this moment, I hope you will be here next year too 💖💐

[padfootagain]

Love in Verses (XVIII)

Chapter 18 : ‘What the devil do I care what I know, and what I say?’

Hi! Here is new chapter! This is a very important chapter… I hope you like it!!!

I hope you like this chapter! Tell me what you think!

****

Pairing: Hozier x fem!reader (professor!AU)

Warnings: slow burn, angst, hurt, hurt/comfort, tooth-rotting fluff in later chapters, some scenes in later chapters will have heavy sexual themes even if it’s not explicit nsfw description, so minors here

Summary: Your life seems perfect. You're engaged, your career is thriving as you become an assistant professor at Trinity College, and this Andrew Hozier-Byrne you're sharing an office with seems to be a nice guy you hope to call a friend soon. Life seems to be smiling at you... until everything goes sour. When your fiancé breaks up with you, your perfect world shatters. And when your colleague also gets his heart broken soon after, your shared office seems to be a curse rather than a blessing. But Andrew seems determined to mend your broken hearts... Will things finally go according to plan?

Word Count: 3472

Masterlist for the series – Hozier’s masterlist – Main masterlist

Wisdom

This I say, and this I know: Love has seen the last of me. Love's a trodden lane to woe, Love's a path to misery.

This I know, and knew before, This I tell you, of my years: Hide your heart, and lock your door. Hell's afloat in lovers' tears.

Give your heart, and toss and moan; What a pretty fool you look! I am sage, who sit alone; Here's my wool, and here's my book.

Look! A lad's a-waiting there, Tall he is and bold, and gay. What the devil do I care What I know, and what I say?

Dorothy Parker

Classes for the first semester were over. The Christmas Holiday season had come to a close as well, leaving you buried under piles of articles and documents and books to help you get ready for the new classes that would start after the end of the exams.

It was snowing outside, a part of the Liffey had frozen during the night, apparently. Some idiot had tried walking on it, had fallen into the river, you had heard it on the news. He was equipped for a swim in cold waters, but still… how silly people could be…

You were in bed, you checked the time on the alarm clock on your bedside table. Almost midnight. You heaved a sigh. You ought to stop, catch a few hours of sleep before heading to work tomorrow. But you had a thousand things to do and to plan and… God, so many things still…

You were distracted by the vibration of your phone on the bed, looked for it in a hurry under the covers. You frowned as you read Frank’s name on your screen, picked up with a worried frown on your brow. Something ought to be wrong…

“Hello?”

“Y/N?”

You recognised the sound of his voice. He was drunk and had been crying. When the two of you were together, he was only in this state when you had a huge fight.

“You’re alright?” you asked him, knowing the answer.

“No, I’m not… God, I’m really not, Y/N. Can you… can you pick me up? I’m drunk, I can’t drive, I don’t know where to go… Christ, I’ve fucked up so bad tonight… please, help me…”

You looked at all the work you had left to do, looked at the time again, but heaved a sigh. Not accepting to help wasn’t even a possibility…

“I’ll come and pick you up. Where are you right now?” you asked him, and you heard the sigh of relief he heaved at your words.

“I’m downtown. At a pub… hang on, I’ll give you the address…”

“What happened? Where’s Samantha?”

He sniffed.

“We had a row.”

You nodded, not surprised.

“Like… a huge one. Our first row. I… I’ve fucked up. She’s home. I can’t go home, I don’t know where to go…”

“You can stay at my place for tonight,” you offered. “It’s alright, I’m on my way.”

“Thank you so much, Y/N… thank you,” he mumbled, the lilt of his accent more pronounced as his words were slurred by alcohol.

“Don’t mention it. I’m leaving now, stay where you are.”

You hurried out of bed, put on some clothes, grabbed your keys. You typed a text while you were in the lift.

Hi, Andy!

Just a warning: Sam and Frank had a row tonight, seems quite bad. Omw to get Frank from some bar downtown. He’ll stay at my place for tonight. Sam might call you too.

You were walking to your car when he answered.

Thanks for the warning. Sam has just texted me, I’ll go to hers.

Good luck with Frank.

You sat behind the wheel, locked your car before answering.

Good luck with Sam too!

You were about to put your phone away in your purse when it vibrated again.

Tell me when you’re home, okay? It’s late.

A tender smile softened your features.

Will do xx

You put your phone away, started driving. It took you a while to find the pub, but Frank was eager to leave, and you were relieved not to have to fight him for his car keys or something like that. Instead, he obediently entered your car. His eyes were red and puffy, he stunk of whiskey, cheap beer, and cigarettes.

“Thanks,” he mumbled, voice made deeper by the liquor, words slurred.

“No problem. Let’s go to my place.”

He nodded in silence, dried his eyes.

“What happened?” you asked as you drove, the streets empty at this hour, the lampposts the only sources of light in the sleeping city as clouds heavy with rain were hiding the moon and stars.

“Sam and I had a fight.”

You hummed.

“What was it about?”

“Something stupid. Fucking stupid.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, like… something about the wedding. About the guests we should put together, and I was like… like who cares? People can just… sit… wherever they like. But she was making plans, and I took the piss, and she got… so fucking mad and…”

He sniffed, looked by the window at the empty streets.

“Was fucking stupid.”

“You got angry?”

“Yeah.”

“And you said something stupid?”

“Yeah. How do you know?”

“You generally say stupid and hurtful things when you’re really angry.”

“I don’t mean them.”

“I know. It still hurts.”

He heaved a sigh, rested his forehead against the windowpane.

“I think it was a long-time coming though. We’ve been bickering a lot. I don’t know… it’s just been a lot of stress these past few weeks. I thought it would be better after the New Year’s Eve party, but it wasn’t.”

You slowly nodded.

“I mean… you’ve been moving very fast through this relationship. Maybe you’ve skipped a few steps along the way, and you’re feeling it now.”

He remained quiet for the rest of the drive. When you reached your apartment building, he stared at you, but said nothing.

You helped him through the elevator and hallways all the way to your flat. You texted Andrew that you were safely home while Frank was struggling with his shoes.

Andrew answered in seconds with a thumbs up.

“You think I’m making a mistake, don’t you?”

Frank’s voice brought you back to your apartment, made you put your phone away and turn to him instead.

You weren’t quite sure what to answer, even if this was the perfect moment to speak your mind. You were too taken aback for that.

“Everybody does,” Frank nodded. “Everybody thinks I’ve lost my mind. Maybe I have… I don’t know anymore… Maybe… Maybe I’ve made a mistake, and I shouldn’t have left and… I don’t know… I don’t know…”

“I think you’re moving very fast. I think all this is going too fast,” you spoke with a gentle voice, moving closer to him. “I mean… you pushed back the engagement, then the wedding, when we were together. While this is so sudden… Everything about you and Sam seems sudden.”

Slowly, Frank nodded.

“I don’t know… I don’t know what to do, I… I want it to be fast though, I don’t want to think things through this time around. I don’t want to be cautious, the way we were, you and I, Y/N. I just… I want to live this fully.”

He rubbed at his tired eyes.

“I’m sorry, I don’t make any sense right now…”

“You should go to bed,” you gave him a sad smile, but he didn’t notice, he was too tired for that, or… you didn’t know why… but he didn’t notice.

You gave him a pillow and a blanket so he could settle on the couch, he thanked you, closed his eyes.

Before you could move away, he grabbed your hand in his, gave it a tight squeeze. You wanted to cry now.

And then, he surrendered to sleep, and he let go.

Sam wasn’t crying anymore when Andrew arrived to her flat, but her eyes were red and puffy with tears that had already fallen. She let him inside, offered him something to drink while he took off his coat, gloves, beanie and scarf, but he declined. He turned to her with a tender smile, something full of compassion.

“You’re okay? How are you feeling?” he asked with a voice he made deeper than usual, knowing it calmed her down.

“Not great,” she admitted.

“You had a fight with Frank, then?”

“Yeah… we… I… It was pretty bad.”

“Bad?”

“It was a big row.”

“Was he mean to you?” Andrew’s voice shook, a frown digging a line between his eyebrows. “Did he threaten you?”

“What? No! Of course not! We just had a row.”

He visibly relaxed, took a step closer to her. They were standing in her living room, the night was quiet. He wanted to reach out, but he didn’t dare.

“What was it about? Do you want to talk about it?”

She shrugged, but took a step closer to him too, standing close, so close… He could have pulled her into an embrace so easily…

“We fought about the wedding. We… we don’t want the same thing.”

“About what?”

“Silly things. Unimportant details, to be honest. But I didn’t know how to react to it… like… I know you sigh a lot when you’re annoyed. I know your voice quietens first, and then you raise it. I know you get petty when you’re really angry. I know you need to spend time alone to cool down. I know you’ll want to have the last word no matter whether you’re right or wrong, but you’ll never admit it. I know that it’s useless to simply bury the hatchet, that you’ll bring it up again later if we don’t discuss it when the issue arises. I know you don’t talk about what you feel, that I should not be offended if you just lock yourself up in your office until you’re calmer and we can talk about it. I know it’s useless to make you acknowledge your feelings. I know you’re so fucking stubborn when you really want to be. I know… I know how to deal with you, even with your anger, even with the ugliest of your feelings. Cause I… I know you. But I didn’t know how to handle him. I got mad, and he got mad and I didn’t know what to do. And I made things worse. I don’t know what to do…”

She looked up at him with this specific gaze, and he knew what she needed. He knew it, because he knew her. And she had just told him what he was already painfully aware of, that she knew him like the back of her hand. And perhaps this was the part he missed the most now that he was alone. That he used to have someone who knew him so completely.

He wrapped his arms around her, because he knew she needed a hug. She needed to feel safe and warm, and indeed she rested her head on his shoulder easily.

He held her close, the way he had thousands of times before. He always found solace in it, something soothing, anchoring. When she rose to her tiptoes to kiss his cheek, to thank him in a whisper for coming, his chest grew a little warm but he was surprised when his heart didn’t stumble. It didn’t rush, didn’t miss a few beats. It remained steady, although it was content. And the arms that used to soothe him were a nice embrace, a gentle shelter to rest, but they lacked something. Something… he wasn’t sure what it was. He knew that he didn’t feel the way he used to when they held on each other before. He knew he felt less than before.

They remained motionless, bathed in silence for a few minutes, the sound of their breathing the only sign of life in the room. His mind wandered off, instead of being anchored in the moment, unlike the way she used to force his brain to quieten down. Instead, he thought about the classes he had to prepare for the rest of the year, the exams coming up, he thought of Frank and was angry at him for hurting Sam, and he thought of you. He was suddenly worried about you, he hadn’t received any text from you yet, to tell him you were home. Were you alright? It was so late into the night and you were driving to a pub downtown, after all…

He felt his phone buzzing in the back pocket of his jeans, pulled away from the hug. He didn’t notice Sam’s puzzled expression.

“Andy?” she looked up at him with a questioning look.

He didn’t notice she was speaking. He heaved a relieved sigh instead.

I’m home. All good xx

He answered with a mere thumbs up.

“Andy?”

This time he looked up from his phone, put the device in his back pocket again.

“Yeah?”

“You’re okay?”

But he knew her. He knew her better than anyone else in this world. He knew this question meant ‘who is texting you at such an hour?’.

“Yeah… erm… It was Y/N. Frank called her to pick him up at a pub.”

“Did he?” she asked, clearly jealous.

Andrew hummed and nodded.

“He’ll stay at her place for the night.”

“Right…”

She seemed uneasy now. Worried.

“And why was she telling you this anyway?”

“Because you asked me to come here too,” he merely answered.

“So, she picked him up?”

“Yeah, they’re at her apartment.”

“Why is she telling you all this?”

“It’s late. I asked her to tell me when she’d be home, just to make sure she was safe.”

She stared at Andrew with an unreadable expression, one he didn’t know how to analyse, despite how well he knew her. Was it a new one? Did he simply… fail at reading her this time?

“Can you stay tonight?”

The question came out of the blue, took him aback.

Stay the night…

“I… don’t want to be alone,” she whispered.

And Andrew wasn’t sure what she meant. Probably for him to sleep on the sofa, but there was something in her eyes… No, she didn’t mean for him to sleep on the sofa…

It was his chance to get her back, and he knew it. He knew it. He could have her back, maybe, he could try, at least…

He thought about kissing her then, closing the distance between them, finding back what they had lost. But instead, he…

Instead, he thought of your lips on his, of your weight in his arms, of your kiss on his cheek while a new year was born.

He wanted to kiss you. He didn’t want to kiss Sam at all…

He didn’t want Frank to be with you now, in your apartment. He didn’t want you to kiss him, he didn’t want you to be with him, and God almighty, he could feel his heart racing at the thought that you could have sex with him…

Slowly, he shook his head.

“I don’t think it would be a good idea,” he mumbled, his voice not sounding like his own.

“But I…”

“I’m sorry… I… I should go. I should go…”

He hurried to her front door, while Sam remained standing in her living room, too stunned by Andrew’s actions to move or say anything. Before she could go back to her senses, Andrew had left.

He had left. When he sat down behind the wheel, he didn’t know what was happening, couldn’t understand his own actions. He could have tried to get Sam back, and instead… instead he had thought of you, he had… he had wished it was you who stood there before him, offering him a chance to kiss you…

Fucking hell… he bloody liked you. He liked you. He liked you enough to push Sam away…

Holy shit…

Andrew was pacing before a tired Alex, who was sitting on his sofa.

Andrew was lucky his best friend was a night owl like him, but even if he naturally longed to go to bed at an unreasonable hour, Alex was still longing to bury himself under his warmest blanket and finally go to sleep now that it was almost four in the morning.

But Andrew was still pacing. He had called Alex after leaving Sam’s flat, panicked, talking too fast about ‘catching feelings’ and ‘being a fucking eejit’ and ‘ruining everything’. Alex invited him to come over, and now Andrew was burning holes in his carpet…

“This is so bad, Alex. So fucking bad…”

“Calm down, it’s alright. You have a crush on Y/N, so what?”

“SO WHAT?! SO WHAT?! I don’t want to have a crush on Y/N! I want to have Sam back!”

“Not anymore, apparently.”

Andrew threw his hands up in the air in frustration. He had a thousand things to say and couldn’t speak them out loud, he just couldn’t. He was never good at this, opening up about his feelings… He buried them instead, and let them gnaw at his heart. Was it healthy? No, but he couldn’t help it. And then he wrote about it, and he felt better, lighter, and things were alright again.

But right now, he was too much in a state to grab some paper and pen and put it all down.

“This can’t be happening, Alex” he shook his head. “I can’t be catching feelings on Y/N.”

“Why not? She sounds like an amazing woman!”

“She is! Don’t get me wrong, she’s… incredible! But I want Sam.”

“You don’t anymore.”

“Of course, I bloody do!”

“Why did you push her away tonight, then?”

But Andrew wasn’t ready to admit that.

“I don’t know… I don’t know…”

“You’re falling for Y/N.”

“She’s my colleague! We share an office! We’re friends! We’re trying to get back with our exes! She’s still in love with the guy!”

“Well, tell yourself those arguments, cause apparently they haven’t prevented you from falling for her…”

“I haven’t fallen, I just… I fancy her, ‘s all.”

“Yeah, of course. Of bloody course.”

“Alright, I need to think straight.”

“Why do you want to get back with Sam so badly anyway?”

“Because… Because I love her. Because she… I’m…”

“The honest answer,” Alex argued, staring mercilessly at his friend.

And Andrew hated him at that moment, for knowing him so fucking well, for not cutting him any slack, for pressing him on into acknowledging how he felt… even the ugly side of himself…

He stuttered, went silent, but Alex was there to push him again. Until Andrew turned to the window and stared at the inky sky where not a single light remained uncovered by heavy clouds. All darkness. The kind so absolute, one would not see a thing if they were lost in it.

He imagined your features on that darkness, painted it with the colour of your eyes, the softness of your skin, the warmth of your lips, built your image on the nothingness of the world.

He wanted Sam… he wanted…

“I want someone to know me,” he whispered, feeling the heaviness of the confession drain all his strengths out of his body, feeling empty as he let the words leave. “I want… I want to be known. I want companionship. I’m afraid to be alone. I’m scared. I’m scared no one else is ever going to know me the way Sam does, and love me anyway. After all, even she couldn’t…”

He fell silent, sniffed as tears gathered at the corners of his eyes.

“God, it’s so fucking hard to be unknown. To have no one like that anymore… It feels so fucking lonely…”

Alex had gotten up without a word nor sound, rested a hand on Andrew’s shoulder.

“Someone else can learn to know you that way again, Andy. You deserve it. You deserve to be loved for who you are. Maybe Y/N could…”

But Andrew shook his head, shook himself out of his friend’s grasp.

“No! No, this is ridiculous! I want Sam! I want Sam! I don’t want Y/N! It was just a flukes, just a glitch, just… I don’t know, a moment of madness! But I don’t want Y/N, I don’t like her, I want Sam…”

“Andy…”

“I want Sam. I must want Sam.”

Andrew rubbed at his forehead, tightly closing his eyes.

“And anyway… even if I don’t want Sam anymore, I can’t fall for Y/N. That’s just… that would just make everything so fucking complicated, and she’s so great, I can’t risk to lose her like that… That would be insane.”

“So… you could want someone else? I could introduce you to someone…”

“We’ll see… we’ll see… I… I don’t know.”

Andrew heaved a sigh, feeling the heaviness of sleep creep up his body. He looked at his watch.

“Christ, sorry, mate… it’s so fucking late… I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright. You can sleep on the couch tonight, it’s too late for you to drive, and you’re too upset for that.”

“Thank you.”

“Anytime, mate.”

They exchanged a pair of tired smiles, and while Alex was gone looking for some spare blanket and pillow, Andrew was gathering his thoughts and feelings. Trying to calm down.

He wasn’t falling for you. He didn’t have a crush on you. He wanted Sam, he didn’t want you. He couldn’t want you.

Andrew didn’t like you… he couldn’t like you…

… right?