#any recommendations are more than welcome

[angelofthemornings]

I should explain the popular conception of the war really quickly (you are much better off following up on the scholarship mentioned upthread for the complex and accurate version, but I want to tell you how your average Joe perceived the war).

Not long after 9/11 it was announced that the US government "found out" that Iraq had weapons of mass destruction, that is, nuclear weapons and/or biological weapons, usually it was nukes that were the topic of discussion. The evidence was seen as wishy-washy ("some memo?") to nonexistent - this is what the post is talking about by unclear reasons, people largely didn't understand what obscure evidence the government had that they were using to justify the invasion, and of course we never did find anything that even smelled like a WMD. Consequently, much of the American public (it felt like every last person but the Republicans, and even some of them too - it wasn't entirely uncommon to hear conservatives say that sure, the war was bullshit but they still supported Bush's policies, as if the invasion was a forgivable offense) eventually came to the conclusion that this was a resource war over oil. "Bush lied, people died" was a common chant (find me one city in the US circa twenty years ago that didn't have that phrase spraypainted somewhere) and so was "no blood for oil." There was even kind of a popular conspiracy theory that the Bush administration engineered the 9/11 attacks to have an excuse to invade oil-rich territory in SWANA.

So, I want to clarify that there was a commonly-accepted propaganda reason - WMDs along with Iraqi leader Saddam Hussein allegedly sponsoring al-Qaeda, the terrorist group held responsible for 9/11 - as well as a commonly-accepted "real" reason.

Basically, what I'm trying to say here is that people weren't going around like, "hey, why are we in Iraq again?" but people were saying "hey, where's the proof that Iraq has WMDs again?" and most of us couldn't even explain what the murky propaganda evidence was. (Again: "some memo?") These are kind of two different things, so I want to make the history clear.

Again, this addition is just dealing with what people broadly thought about it. It was perceived by many as a pretty clear situation. If you want to read about the rationale in full complexity, and you should, I think To Start a War: How the Bush Administration Took America into Iraq by Robert Draper and Melvyn P. Leffler's Confronting Saddam Hussein: George W. Bush and the Invasion of Iraq are good picks, especially the latter, as Leffler is a historian of American foreign policy and was able to talk to a lot of people directly responsible for the war, such as former Secretary of State Colin Powell.

However, these are history books and not scholarship by people like historians of imperialism, so I welcome additional recommendations and any criticisms of the books anyone more informed than I am might have. (I think some may find Leffler's treatment a bit lenient, but the top officials he was able to interview make this kind of an indispensable resource in my opinion.)

I missed most of the Iraq war due to being a baby, but every time I read about it I start wondering why we aren’t all talking about it all of the time

[theresattrpgforthat]

Hi! Super sorry if this is a way too specific request. But do you know any systems that don't just treat magic knight/gish type characters as half-spellcaster and half-martial? Specifically looking for something that allows a magic knight sort of character to excel at magic and/or weapons to the same degree a more standard caster or martial character would, even if this means sacrificing something in a third category.

Sorry again if this is too obscure, take as long as you need with it and if you can't find anything that's okay too. I hope you have a nice day/night!

THEME: Magic Knights

Hello friend, so I started by looking for games where the characters were all blessed with supernatural powers, because I think if you're all supernaturally gifted, you're more likely going to get that balance you're looking for. That being said, I think I've also included a little bit of variety both in the basic recommendations as well as some add-ons at the end, so I hope that there's enough variety for something to pique your interest!

MourningStar, by devindecibel. @devindecibel

Lucifer, the former Archangel of Light, has died.

& their ever gloriously radiant body became the star which warms us.

We are the devilkith, those descended from the exiles of the Brilliant Garden & Hallowed star systems of Creation; those cursed to exalt sin.

We defend the Mourningstar, a haven for misfits, guarding the last iota of the Cosmos not conquered by the ever grasping empire of God.

Mourningstar is a “satanic” “biblepunk” dark science fantasy game about resistance, rebellion, othering, theology, individuality, misfits, colonialism, divine politics, infernal magic, & exploring the stars as swashbuckling devils. You will tell the story of a crew of Advocates, attachés to the Court of Lucifer & special agents of the Seven Prodigious Broods, the noble Archdemonic houses of devilkith in the Mourningstar System. Advocates explore the universe of Creation in their Chariot starship, defend the oppressed, skirmish with Angels & intrigue, & fight for the spirit of fierce identity.

Mourningstar is mechanically inspired by heavily narrative games, so I expect the archetypes provided to give players a strong concept to start with. One archetype is the Bastion, which is a knight whose armor is powered by demon blood, allowing them access to blood magic and access the ghosts of past knights' wisdom.

That being said, in its current stat, this is a crunchy game. Set-up is rather complex, and the game is built for campaigns, so if you're going to play this one, you should prepared for a long haul.

Thematically, Mourningstar is pretty specific; it's biblepunk, it's science fantasy, and it's rebellion. Your characters will have big grievances and bigger losses, but at the end of the day, your band of freaks is going to pull of some pretty impressive adventures. Currently the designer is working on updating the game, so you might want to keep an eye on this one!

Freelancer, by mammothbronco.

Welcome Freelancer, Freelancer takes place in a world of your choosing. A world balanced between an age of light and an age of dusk. Betwixt a time of prosperous endless summer and an unforgiving winter, a forgetting of things, a time where swords and blood rule. The makers of powerful artifacts known as relics have vanished; their knowledge disappeared within the dusk. The wealthy hide behind their walls, lusting for such an artifact, but the price is more costly than blood.

Freelancer feels very old-school fantasy, where magic is rare and difficult to wield. One thing that is very common in these old-school style games is the containment of magic in objects, rather than in innate abilities.Spells are things contained in relics, making them rather available to everyone.

There is still a distinct magic class, but the corruption of magic and the fact that you can use a relic without being a spellcaster feels like it puts folks on a slightly more equal playing field. Freelancer also feels more grounded in the typical fantasy tropes, which I think lends itself to leaning into the knight tropes that you might be interested in.

Guillotine: Crown of Blood, by Tally Owl Press.

Dive into a Gothic world that's rife with subterfuge and spellcasting alike, in this PBTA (Powered by the Apocalypse) hack that combines the dynamic, character-driven mechanics of Amour Astir with a dark, sprawling Gothic setting where the Crown reigns supreme. The Crown is a monarchical force that uses its populace for cannon fodder, magical tithing—whatever it wants. You play as a revolutionary with an axe to grind: some reason to want the King's head on the proverbial platter. You have magic, bargains, weapons, and grit at your disposal. You might even have friends and allies, if you're especially lucky. Either way, you and your players will craft a revolutionary narrative where the magic and prowess of the many can overcome the greed of the few.

Magic takes front and centre here, but according to the character sheets, your intent and approach seem very important and thus I think you could use weaponry to the same level of skill, as long as you put some thought into it. PbtA games are more focused on what makes the story interesting, rather than granular details such as weapon modifiers or range bands.

The character options for this game are drenched in themes and arcs; I think that this is a kind of game where you'll be sacrificing something personal and heartbreaking in order to succeed.Because you're fighting against the Crown, I think that your characters are going to feel much less knight-like, unless you play the Shadow Cavalier or perhaps a Partisan. If you want pathos and grit, you want Guillotine: Crown of Blood.

In Extremis, by @keganexe.

In Extremis is a tabletop roleplaying game designed for 2-6 players, about fighting back the man using necromancy, that uses the LUMEN system by Spencer Campbell. Inspired by The Locked Tomb trilogy, players take on the role of exceptionally powerful witches who use their mastery of life, death, and the human condition to keep them and their own safe from other planetary invaders who want to steal their land.

As a Necromancer, you are one of a handful of hideously powerful death witches that protect the planet Hecate, the final holdout for The Coven, from the ever encroaching war of the Corvus Dominion.

In Extremis was the first game I thought of when I saw this request, mostly because I'm familiar with the source material that inspired this game. You are first and foremost a magic user, but your ability to use a weapon is so so so important. The game is also built on the Lumen system, which rewards character abilities that stack, as well as tactical play that focuses on teamwork.

If you want gritty, dark badassery and a lot of corpses, you probably want In Extremis.

Dawnfire Warriors, by matara

The worldlords, the Nowdead Gods, have fallen and the lands they once ruled with wrath and divinity have exploded into an age of unprecedented warfare. You, as a dawnwalker, are a nigh-immortal juggernaut of death clad in the gods' own armor: dawnplate. Stride into battle with your honor guard and your allies, to claim territory and seize the drops of Godhead Ichor dripping from the astral corpses of the Nowdead as they hover over the world, morbid reminders of what came before.

Now is a time of war and fire. Shod yourself in dawnplate and carve through armies to claim what is yours.

Dawnfire Warriors is a one-page, high-strategy tactical game. It requires a grid and something to use as minis, to track your moves. That being said, combat is abstracted out to losses; how exactly you defeat your enemies or what weapons you wield is completely up to the player; all that matters is how well you take out your enemies, as well as how quickly you take them out.

Every character has magical armour and dawnfire abilities, which is attached to the armour you wear.There are three different kinds of dawnwalkers; the Marshal, whose abilities centre around leadership, the Tidewall, whose abilities focus on overwhelming the enemy, and the War Wizard, who's excellent at transporting forces around the field.

If you want a game that's more about strategy than history or lore, maybe consider Dawnfire Warriors.

Our Spell is Steel, by Switchback Worlds.

Our Spell Is Steel (OSIS) is a tabletop RPG built with the Forged In The Dark system, utilising a d10 dice mechanic influenced from World of Darkness.

You play as an Imperial Mancer, a mage who serves an Empire built on magic. Your world is surrounded on all sides by the three ancient Powers: the godlike Dragons, Spirits and Fey, locked in an eternal struggle for supremacy over each other. The Mancers learned the mysteries of magic from these Powers, which is now their only means of defending humanity from the overpowering beyond.

Your group forms a team of Mancers called a Clave. Mancers are born to serve the Empire, ruled by callous and ambitious Trueblood bloodlines who would be more than happy to sacrifice Newbloods like you as fodder and bargaining chips against the Powers.

Caught in the bloody game between gods and mages, will your Clave be the one to fight back against your fate and topple the board, lighting the fires of a magical revolution? Or will you perish before your time, your soul bound into servitude to the Powers, or your own magic killing you as arcane bloom chokes your veins?

All of the characters in this game are magical, but how they use those powers varies; different disciplines give you different kinds of powers. Forged in the Dark and WoD games (inspirations for this one) both give you the ability to improve different parts of your character sheets in different directions. So you could likely make a Wizard who focuses more on building up skills that rely on weapons, or you could start as an Ironheart and then tack on some Wizard abilities as you grow.

Other Thoughts….

Brimstone and Lead Arena, by MummyLaundering is very tactical and embraces magic for all characters, but uses guns instead of traditional fantasy weapons.

Magic & Might, by The_Bellmont, treats your character's magic and might equally, but the game itself is rather simple, and doesn't have the complexity that you might be looking for.

Echoes of the Broken, by Scribbles & Dice Games, appears to be a point-buy system that centres around characters that are supernaturally powerful, and I've recommended it in the past!

Exalted 3rd Edition, by Onyx Path Publishing, has sorcery that is immensely powerful, but I don't know how much the game separates sorcery from martial abilities; all of your characters are incredibly powerful, but I don't know what magic looks like for the martial characters.

Heart: The City Beneath by Rowan, Rook & Decard, has some really fascinating player options, including the Vermissian Knight, whose armour is train-powered, and who possesses an aetheric field that both protects you and can fuel your abilities.

Finally, if you like what I do, you can leave me a tip on my Ko-Fi page. <3

[satellite-evans]

closure

Pairing: Carlos Sainz x ex!reader

Summary: you don't need Carlos' closure.

Word count: 2k+

Warnings: angst, based on the Taylor Swift song

A/N:

This my third fic for the folkmore series, and it is with none other than Carlos Sainz! This is my first time writing for him so I was quite nervous, please tell me what you think!

English is not my first language, so I apologize if I made any (grammar) mistakes. Feedback, requests, talks, vents, recommendations or just simple questions are always welcome.

Happy reading xxx

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site.

It arrives in your inbox at 2:17 AM, the timestamp almost mocking the stillness of the night. The world outside is quiet, the kind of silence that fills your room with its weight, pressing against your ribs as if the very air knows what’s coming.

The email subject line is simple.

Just wanted you to know.

For a moment, you just stare at it. The words are innocuous, almost casual, but your heart knows better. You’ve seen that phrase before—at least in the way it echoed in your mind, in the way you tried to convince yourself you’d be fine without any more explanations.

And for some reason, you already know what it’s about. You don’t need to open it to feel the heavy, familiar knot tightening in your stomach. The ache in your chest that had dulled over time, the one you had worked so hard to ignore, throbs with renewed intensity, as if it’s alive and remembering the shape of old wounds. It’s as though your body recognizes him before your mind even does, and it reacts accordingly—a reflex you can’t outrun.

Your hands tremble slightly, the familiar sensation of fear and longing mixing in your veins, but you can't bring yourself to look away. The old ache becomes a weight in your throat, too, and for a moment, you're almost paralyzed by the gravity of it. You know this isn’t just a message. This is a door opening, an invitation to face something you buried deep. But you click on it anyway, drawn in by something you can’t explain, a part of you still hoping that maybe—just maybe—this will be the thing that makes it all make sense.

I just wanted you to know I hope you're doing well. I know things ended messy between us, and I hate that. I really do. I never wanted to hurt you, and I know that I did.

I’m sorry for how I left. For not saying enough. For saying too much. For everything in between.

I hope you’re happy. I really do.

- Carlos.

The words stare back at you, flat on the screen, sterile and detached. They sit there like a sentence of finality, as if they’re not even meant for you, but for someone who doesn’t carry the weight of your history with him. It’s just an email—another digital scrap of text sent into the void of the night. But after everything, after all that’s passed, this is what he gives you? Does he think that you’re just a situation that needs to be handled? A string of hollow words with no breath behind them, no warmth, nothing that even remotely resembles the person you once knew. No, not even that. The person you thought you knew.

It was almost ironic how the shape of his name still spelled out pain. Every letter, every syllable, carried a weight that dug deep, as if each time you thought of him, the wound reopened. It was strange, how someone you once loved could still manage to hurt you, even in their absence. Everything about him—his words, his actions, even his silence—had caused so much damage that it was honestly a little concerning.

You hated him. No, despised him. The anger simmered under your skin like a constant burn, always just beneath the surface, ready to erupt. The audacity he had, the way he thought he could just walk away, leaving destruction in his wake—it was almost unbelievable. He was wrong in so many ways the day he broke up with you. The way it all went down, how he acted like it was the easiest thing in the world, how he twisted every word you’d said into something it wasn’t—it was wrong, all of it. And by the looks of it, he probably knew by now. He had to. The way time had passed, the way people talked, the way you’d changed—he had to know the damage he’d done.

Your mind replays the last time you saw him. You can still picture it so vividly—the way he had stood in the doorway of your apartment, arms crossed over his chest like a shield, his eyes dark with something you couldn’t read. He looked smaller somehow, the exhaustion wearing him down, hanging off of him like a second skin, like he was carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders, yet he couldn't find it in himself to care about you anymore. The lines in his face were deeper, like time had been more unforgiving to him than you ever realized. The way his jaw clenched so tightly when you had begged him to just talk to you, that desperate plea falling from your lips like a prayer, but he wouldn’t listen. His silence had cut deeper than anything he could have said. The way he hadn’t looked back when he walked away. Not once. Not a single glance. Like you didn’t exist. That was when you realized he had put a distance between you two ages ago that you were finally seeing—a sea you were too tired to cross.

The door had clicked shut behind him with a finality that shattered you into pieces you weren’t sure you could ever put back together. That sound—the click of the lock—wasn’t just the end of a visit, but the end of everything. The end of any future you thought you’d have together. You didn’t just lose him in that moment. You lost the life you’d built around him. And you’ve been trying to rebuild ever since.

And now, months later, this. This email. A quiet, late-night message, sterile in its simplicity, like he was trying to offer a neat little bow to wrap up the wreckage he left behind. But there’s no ribbon to tie, no neatness to this. What he gave you wasn’t closure—it was a reminder that, for all his talk of wanting to make amends, he’s still incapable of meeting you where you need him.

You slam your laptop shut, too quickly, too harshly, as if the words might physically reach out and strangle you if you don’t. For a moment, your fingers linger on the lid, shaking, the intensity of your pulse drowning out the quiet hum of the city outside. The night has become suffocating, and you can’t tell if it’s because of the email, or because you’re finally confronting what you’ve been trying to ignore for so long. The pain hasn’t gone anywhere, and neither has the ache. It sits with you like an old friend, one you can’t seem to shake.

It’s almost laughable, really. You can’t help but chuckle bitterly to yourself as you stare at the screen. He thinks he’s giving you closure. That this carefully constructed email, this rehearsed apology, is supposed to fix something, to heal the rift that’s been eating away at you for months. That it will somehow mend the fractures in your heart as if it’s something that can be neatly patched up with a few well-chosen words. But the truth is, it doesn’t even come close. No, this isn’t closure. This isn’t even an attempt at healing—it’s just an afterthought, a last-ditch effort to clear his conscience without ever truly facing the damage he caused. And it’s almost insulting.

Closure isn’t an email at 2 AM, casually dropped into your life as though he’s just checking off a box. It isn’t a collection of words stripped of warmth, void of real feeling, written at a distance, with no regard for the time, or the place, or the person it’s supposed to reach. Closure would have been a conversation. A real one. A face-to-face moment where he would have stayed, where he would have stayed long enough to listen, to hear you, and not just walk away the moment it got hard. That would have been closure. But he didn’t stay. He left you behind with nothing but the echoes of your unanswered questions.

Your breath catches in your throat, and for a moment, you struggle to steady yourself. You take a deep breath, but it shudders on the way in, uneven and sharp. It feels like your lungs are betraying you, like they can’t hold the air in anymore, and you’re left gasping in the void between anger and heartache. Your throat is thick with unshed tears, but you refuse to let them fall. Not again. Not for him. You’ve cried enough tears for him already, enough for a lifetime. You promised yourself you wouldn’t do this anymore, that you wouldn’t let him be the reason you hurt.

You want to reply. You want to scream, to let him know how deeply he’s failed you, how his absence is still an open wound, festering in the corners of your mind. You want to tell him that, even now, you still wake up in the middle of the night, expecting to hear his voice, expecting to feel the weight of his arm around your waist. You still reach for him in the dark, your fingers grasping at air, and you realize too late that he’s not there. You want to tell him that every time you see red—Ferrari red, that damn red, the color of his car, of everything he used to be to you—you feel like you might break all over again, like all the pieces you’ve tried to pick up and put together have shattered into even smaller bits.

But he's not Ferrari red anymore. He's Williams blue now. You’d probably be a new wrinkle in his life, a person who wouldn’t fit. Heck, you didn’t even fit when he was in Ferrari. You could answer him back, tell him you forgave him, that you both could be friends again. Maybe that would iron everything out nicely.

But you won’t. You won’t give him that satisfaction. You won’t give him the power to pull you back into this mess, into this space where you lose yourself every time you think about him. He doesn’t deserve that. You don’t deserve to let him keep doing this to you.

The frustration, the hurt, the unanswered questions—they all feel like they're swirling in a storm that won't quiet. You crawl into bed, pulling the blankets around yourself as if they could offer the protection your mind and heart desperately crave.

You are fine. Everything is fine. You had your beers, your occasional crying sessions, your candles. You were doing so much better without him. You had to.

It cut deep, knowing him, all the way to the bone. The breakup had been necessary. It had to be. You were healing, getting better, moving on. Or at least, that’s what you told yourself.

But the ache in your chest and the rapid, shallow breaths you couldn't control told a different story. It was one you knew the ending to but didn’t want to face. His email was oh so unnecessary, cruel even. He had broken up with you months ago, and yet here he was again, trying to reach back into your life. He shouldn’t have contacted you. He should’ve left you alone.

And you definitely should’ve stayed in bed.

Hatred and regret twisted inside of you, each trying to take the lead, but you were too exhausted to figure out which was winning. Still, you knew you had to respond.

Your gaze lingered on the laptop screen for what felt like hours, your mind scrambling for the right words, something that could strike him, something that would hurt, something that would linger with him forever the way he had lingered in your life. But nothing came.

Instead, what you found was something deeper—something far more painful.

Acceptance.

Acceptance was the true winner in the battle between your emotions. It was the thing you’d been running from, the thing you’d fought so hard to avoid. You had accepted it.

It was over.

So, with a steady hand, you typed the final words you’d ever send him and blocked his email so he could never contact you again.

"I don’t need your closure."

[myoonmii]

For any of my merlin mutuals-- If anyone needs smth to listen to, here's my very long and sometimes oddly specific and also very messy merthur playlist of songs that remind me of them (coming from someone who only thinks about them so its basically every song ever)

[beef-brisket]

((I'M SO SORRY! I'M TERRIBLE 😫😫😫))

Verosika sighed when she saw Adam leaning against his dressing room desk.

Verosika: You okay, babe?

Adam sighed: ...No. Not really.

Collapsing back onto his couch, Adam rubbed his face. He fuckimg hated this. Everything. Why the fuck did he get into music? Of course, those bastards up in Pride would have found out about him.

Adam: I should have just become a stripper... it would have been easier than dealing with this shit.

Verosika chuckled and sat next to him: You don't have the knees for that, babe.

Adam laughed, and dropped his hands: Bitch.

Verosika: Asshole... you seem conflicted.

Adam: Fuck, it's that easy to tell?

Verosika: No... but I know you, Adam. You feel. You feel for people. Even those who've hurt you.. it's a shit trait, but it's what makes you, you.

Adam: Yeah... a fucking dumbass.

Verosika: I mean, you said it~.

Adam scoffed: Fucks sakes... do you have any idea how much I miss him...? He was... everything to me. My first friend, the first angel to see me as more than an animal to gush over... he... he was the first person I thought cared about me... but he didn't... in the end, he didn't. And from there, it feels like a running fucking theme. People start to get close to me, they treat me with JUST enough kindness that I get hooked, then they throw me away like I'm nothing! They fucking use me! First Lucifer and Lilith, then Eve, then the angels, then all of Heaven! I did what I was told! I followed everyone's orders like a fucking mutt, and what do I get? A stab in the back and being reborn as... this... but it's not so bad. I met you, I've made logife for myself... but of course, that had to go to shit to...

Verosika sat and listened. She could feel Adam's pain. Over ten thousand years worth of it.

Adam: I... I just... why didn't he care about me before? Why did he just... stop liking me in Eden? He made love to the only two other people... but me? He just... he laughed. When I found them, both times. The first time, he glared at me. Threatened to hurt me... I was so scared- I love him. He was my best friend- and he was threatening to-.

She rubbed his back as Adam rubbed his eyes, tears threatening to fall.

Adam: T-To hurt me. In each meeting, he made fun of me. Him and Lilith pocked fun at how I looked- my body, my life on Earth... then, they rub their daughter in my face... they had what I only dreamed of... a child made from love. Eve, she... she hated me as much as they did... I-I couldn't take it- I snapped. I-I recommend the exterminations. And they ran with it... but- it made me sick. The blood- god, there was so much blood- I couldn't wash it off. I couldn't get rid of the smell... sometimes I thought it was soaked into my skin and clothes... it made me sick.

Verosika: ...I know what you need to do...

Adam: Pft... die? And stay dead?

Verosika chuckled: No... you need closure, Adam. You need to talk to him. Tell him all of this, then? Shit in his bed, and leave.

Adam laughed: I'm not that nasty... but, fuck... I... I think your fucking right... fucking, Charlie...

Verosika: Tell me about it~.

-

Angel: So, he's not interested, huh?

Vaggie: Pft. This is Adam we're talking about! He's completely unreasonable-! And pathetic... fucking... puta!

Charlie: Vaggie, please. I... he's hurt-.

Alastor: Hurt? Oh. Charlie, darling. He isn't hurt!

Charlie: ...He isn't?

Alastor: No! He's spiteful~.

Angel rolled his eyes: Don't listen to him, Char. He and Lucifer have a shit ton of history that we couldn't even begin to understand! This is... probably a little out of your grasp, babe.

Charlie sighed: I think you're right...

Suddenly, there was a loud knock at the front door, making everyone jump and stare at it.

Alastor: ...Well, go on~.

Vaggie: Shut up, Alastor!

Charlie: It's okay-! I'll get it...

Everyone watched as Charlie made her way over and slowly opened the door.

Charlie: Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel. How can we- A-Adam?!

Adam glared, folding his arms and pulling his jacket right around himself: Yeah, hey. Don't fucking ask. Just take me to your fuck ass dad... please.

Succubus au

@beef-brisket

@fanofstuff01

(This au was originally on @things-aren't-what-they-seem66blog and was originally thought of by an anonymous ask)

The roaring of the crowd and the playing of his guitar deafened his ears but the incubus didn't care. He loved the way they cheered his name while he shredded on his axe. With one final strum, his song was done. He raised his arms and gave the horns, to which his fans reciprocated, and bid them all goodnight. He walked away his hands still raised until he was out of sight from them. Adam sighed heavily and wiped the sweat with his forearm as he made his way to his dressing room.

Once there he flopped onto the couch and groaned. Though Adam loved being a rockstar and having adoring fans, he wouldn't lie to himself, each performance, especially concerts, can be quite draining since he always had to prepare with mic checks and making sure he sounded right. Steve, his producer/manager/on-and-off-again fling, always assured him that these were mandatory. Just one of those sacrifices that come with being a star. Still, Adam felt a little like shit and he needed a drink, a hard one. Unfortunately, his evening wasn't quite over yet as knocking was heard from the other side of the door then a voice called out.

Assistant: Excuse me? Commander? I'm sorry for bothering you but I brought the VIP guests here with me.

Adam sighed completely forgetting about that. Almost all VIPs get access to meet him after every show. Though he loved his fans coming to him and saying how much they loved him, maybe even getting some head from the older crowd, tonight, he didn't want to. However, he knew that he didn't have much of a choice. Unless he wanted Steve up his ass, and not in a good way. Letting out a long groan he sat up, rubbed his eyes, and yelled out to her.

Adam: Bring them in.

He closed his eyes and sighed once again as he heard the door open and feet shuffle in. He prepared himself for the immediate responses of squealing and clamoring over to shake his hand. However, he was not prepared for a familiar voice to call out his name.

Charlie: A, Adam?

He opened his eyes and standing in front of him were Charlie, Vaggie, and a one-eyed sinner.

[druidshollow]

ugly baby rivers is gonna be in my brain forever

its not his fault..... newborns are just ugly

(i did some rambling in the tags if u wanna look at it lol)

[chilaios-week]

Hello, monster eaters! I'm organizing a week long event of Chilaios (ship and platonic) prompts that will go up on the 14th (the day after the last episode of the first anime season)!

Everyone is more than welcome to participate, be it posting artwork, fanfiction, or edits! Just tag it with #Chilaios week so I can reblog it!

The specific dates of the event will be informed along with the prompts :]

And not to worry, anime only fans, the prompts for this event will be as spoiler free as I can make them!

[aro-aizawa]

*sighs in longing* why can i not find adequate mha fics where midoriya izuku takes on the hero public safety commission and tears it apart.....

[firesmokeandashes]

Exactly!

Why can't we have more of this in the media!?

I freaking LOVE it when a couple is able to read each other and know the others' moves without saying anything out loud!

I need more of it!! I don't care if it's straight or not! JUST GIVE IT TO ME!!!

bakudeku really is a twin flame/soulmate/power couple/read each other's minds/yin&yang/the two halves of all might's greatness/mirrors of each other/old married couple all rolled into one and it's so DELICIOUS.

[nahee-dolove]

I've just finished Jazz for two and i don't think it deserved all the hype it go. Don't get me wrong it was good, but it wasn't the greatest. Also why did they add that one scene? It wasn't necessary.

[bi-focal12]

hi!!! if ur comfortable: what's your favorite book of all time (and why), and if you had to choose between only being able to use escalators or only using elevators for the rest of your life, which would u pick?

hope ur having a nice day <3

hello! :)

this one stumped me for a minute but my favorite book of all time would have to be Seven Brief Lessons on Physics by Carlo Rovelli (and ik how that sounds but stay with me here). It’s non-fiction but the prose is so beautiful and the author’s voice so clear that it doesn’t read at all like a textbook or a lecture, and it has such a warm, optimistic tone that I find it really uplifting and I re-read it sometimes when I need a pick-me-up.

im usually not much of a re-reader but it helps that this one is only about 80 pages. its also kind of nostalgic bc I picked it up when I was going through a rough time and it got me out of a very long reading slump.

overall I’m mainly a fiction reader but narrowing down my favorite of those feels pretty impossible

as far as escalators vs elevators, escalators are definitely much more fun but I’d hate to have to climb the stairs of a super tall building so for the sake of my poor legs I think I’d have to go with elevators

thanks for the ask! I hope you’re having a good day too <33

[estrangedfiances]

🎶✨when u get this, list 5 songs u like to listen to, publish. then, send this ask to 10 of your favourite followers (positivity is cool)🎶✨

tysm alex!!

i tried to list artists i don't post about (or barely do)

heart of glass | blondie

stupid cupid | connie francis

you're so vain | carly simon

accidentally in love | counting crows

disenchanted | my chemical romance

[sossolei]

things I learned after shifting to Hogwarts ‧₊ ᵎᵎ⋅ ˚ △⃒⃘

SIDENOTE: hogwarts was not the first reality I shifted to ! this is a uni reality ! there is no war ! ask any questions you want !

.☘︎ ݁˖ BATHROOM. I’ve genuinely never seen anyone talk about this but ( at least in my reality ) there’s a bathroom on the Hogwarts Express and holy fuck??? On the outside it looks tiny asf but I went in there to change into my robes and it’s wayyy bigger than it looks on the outside. It works like the tents in Goblet of Fire basically. The toilets and everything look relatively new so I’m assuming they change it every couple years just to keep in good condition.

.☘︎ ݁˖ MUGGLES. Have you ever wondered exactly how the muggles don’t notice wizardry, or at least at the platform? In my personal experience, unless it’s magic very intentionally and obviously done in front of muggles, there will usually be a moment distraction where they don’t see the magic happening. In the sense of platform nine and three quarters, there’s usually a couple trains that arrive around the same time and blare the horn so everyone usually gets distracted by that. But a personal example of this happens when I was standing in front of the barrier getting ready to cross through the wall, a young child was watching me from afar and as soon as started walking forward, he tripped over the wheel of his mothers luggage and didn’t see me go through the wall.

.☘︎ ݁˖ THE GREAT HALL. The candles are never ending. They don’t drip. They don’t melt in any way. I just had to say that cause I legit stared at them for almost an hour trying to see if it would melt. You have to talk pretty loud to be heard at the front where Dumbledore usually gives his lil speeches, which means the students who sing have lungs for DAYSSSS it’s actually so impressive. The benches are uncomfortable, not unbearable but not recommended for sitting for a long time lol. There’s no menu or anything, the food rlly does just appear there but there’s always something for everybody. Some people even walk up and down the table looking for what they want.

.☘︎ ݁˖ OTHER SCHOOLS. I didn’t stay in this reality for very long but I was always asking questions ( sorry mcgonnagall ). Ilvermorny is currently trying to admit more Native American wizards into their school but Native American wizards (as far as I know) have their own kind of magic and legit do not want anything to do with Ilvermorny. Kind of similar issue in Australia and Aboriginals I’m pretty sure. There’s a lot of, like a fuck ton of wizarding schools in Africa. I know JK Rowling has like one wizarding school in Africa but geographically speaking, that never made sense to begin with and I wasn’t surprised when I found out there were different/smaller wizarding schools around Africa.

.☘︎ ݁˖ STUDENTS. I don’t know how many students are in Hogwarts but I do know that it’s never a surprise who comes to Hogwarts. The ministry genuinely keeps track of every single wizard who has children, and even hold records of wizards who have families without wizarding abilities, just in case someone pops out with it. Easiest way to think of it is that families like Ron’s are always kept track of as well as Hermione’s, so it’s never usually a surprise when someone turns up muggleborn cause they’re usually expecting it.

.☘︎ ݁˖ PROFESSORS. The professors are not as silly goofy as they are in the movies guy :( They’re not miserable or anything but they all just remind me of the standing emoji LMAOOO. But seriously, someone like Mcgonnagall is not as welcoming or “chill” as she is in the movies or towards Harry. But some definitely are more chill, especially the younger ones. Slughorn is my silly king but even he has his moments.

Since this is a uni, Snape isn’t as uh…violent (?) as he is in the movies. Neville is a grown ass man, Snape is def not his biggest fear but Neville in general has a strong urge to prove himself and it reflects in his relationship with Snape. Snape isn’t scary, he just demands lots of respect and has respect for people that have proven they are “worthy” of it, i.e., high marks, put together, confidence, strong willed, etc.

.☘︎ ݁˖ DIVINATION. Did you guys know that being a witch/wizard doesn’t automatically make you good at all forms of divination? I scripted Mattheo Riddle into this reality and me and him are soooo good at other forms of divination like tarot, coffee grounds, and even the the crystal ball, but Theodore Nott fucking sucksss at it. Hermione also didn’t do as well in the class as I know she could’ve done, but according to Treylawney, all forms of divination require open mindedness towards something you can’t understand. Someone like hermione, for example, wants to know everything all the time and doesn’t beat around the bush, so tarot isn’t her cup of tea because she doesn’t think it’s giving her exactly what she wants.

.☘︎ ݁˖ HOMEWORK. Homework can either be really fun or really time consuming. It’s just like regular homework where you recall everything you learned in class but homework isn’t very common the more you move up in classes, mainly because the magic you start to do becomes more hands on rather than memorizing. This doesn’t apply to Snape though. He loves homework.

.☘︎ ݁˖ UNIFORMS. THE ROBES ARE INSULATED. It’s very thick, good quality fabric and keeps you real warm during the winter but during the later hot months like September, it’s not uncommon to walk around with the robes open or in your hands, but you have to wear them in your body during class, no exceptions. They absorb stains??? This is one I wasn’t expecting but it’s a magical robe so…okay! I dropped cranberry juice on the sleeve and it just completely absorbed and it didn’t stink or anything. This doesn’t apply to the tie or anything else, those have to washed for sure.

.☘︎ ݁˖ REALITY. If you haven’t shifted yet, you’ll often hear people say “it’ll feel natural because you’ve already lived there your whole life” and while that is true, it’s also not because how am I supposed to be natural walking past Robert fucking Pattinson to get to Defense Against the Dark Arts???? In my mind, he’s always been Edward from Twilight and seeing him in the hogwarts robes just made me stop in my tracks and stare. Some things come natural and some things don’t but I embrace everything with open arms.

.☘︎ ݁˖ EXTRA. Draco is blonde as hell! Like Targaryen level blonde. I do think it’s natural tho cause Luna has the same platinum type of blonde going on. Harry’s scar is soooo much cooler in this reality, it’s thin but branches out on the side of his face and it’s much more noticeable than the one in the movie. Hermione has curly curly hair! I don’t know if she straightens it in the books but I know she does in the movie, in this reality she literally just got a better curl routine. She has a ton of products and really cares for her hair and she’s lowkey embarrassed cause it’s the one thing she considers “vain.”

There’s a “club” of sorts where a bunch of students get together and run around the castle at the crack ass of Dawn for exercise ( best believe they have NEVER seen the likes of me ). I was told there are wizards who are famous in muggle spaces, typically for music or art. The painting will warn people when the stairs are about to move lol. That whole house discrimination stuff doesn’t happen as often as it does in the movies/books, most people don’t actually care and Slytherins get along with Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs well—however, Gryffindor does have the tendency to poke fun and Slytherins respond with dry sarcasm so sometimes it’s not a perfect fit! House discrimination was bigger in our parents age but as the years have gone by, the current gen doesn’t care fr.

That’s all I can think of atm, thank you for reading and yes I will be doing this with other places I’ve shifted to!

[criminalamnesia]

Not a request but NEW TRAITOR CHAP WHEN??? prioritize urself no rush Pookie just the ppl gotta know

part 7 is here 🙏

ALL PARTS CAN BE FOUND HERE

it was pouring rain as you slid from the taxi, the driver attempting to yell at you to shut the door as thunder rumbled overhead.

you paid him no heed; boots splashed in murky puddles as you pushed the door closed and moved towards the yellow cab’s trunk.

you could barely hear yourself think. the rain was battering the ground as if locked in a viscous war with the cracked pavement— puddles forming as the asphalt resisted with all its might. it wasn’t enough, water seeping into the ground and muddying the grass nearby, drowning it mercilessly.

you grabbed your bag, slinging it over your shoulder before shutting the trunk. you’d barely stepped back from the car before it was speeding off, kicking up water and splashing your legs.

you didn’t mind— you were soaked through to the bone, anyways. besides, you didn’t mind the storm. it was comfort— a distraction from what lay ahead.

your new team. a small, covert operations group made up of the best of the best. two sergeants, a lieutenant, a captain— and they wanted one more soldier.

the opening couldn’t have come at a better time. you’d run your course with your old squad. they’d been fine— until they weren’t. carelessness and ignorance from teammates almost resulted in your untimely death, and laswell hadn’t questioned your transfer request after hearing the tale.

in fact, she’d recommended the one-four-one to you.

you thought you’d be meeting them on base, but the captain had requested you meet them here, instead. a run-down old diner, with its bright, neon pink sign blinking down at you through the rain.

you inhaled, then exhaled. clenched your fists, then unclenched them. it was a habit you’d had since you were a child. it forced you to slow down and think, to overcome the emotions you were lost in.

you blinked. rain ran down your face, creating false tears as it streamed from the corners of your eyes. you were sure you looked a sight.

another inhale, another exhale, and then you moved towards the diner’s door. you pushed it open, stepping inside and wiping your boots on the mat in front of the door.

“I think you’re gonna need to do more than that to dry off, sweetheart” a woman’s voice calls to you, causing you to look up towards the counter. she’s grimacing, looking you up and down. no doubt she’ll be following your path through the building with a mop in hand.

“sorry,” you tell her, trying to brush some water from your jacket. “forgot my umbrella.”

the woman gave a huff, waving her hand before turning and attending to an ancient-looking coffee maker.

you take the time to glance around the diner then, noting the substantial lack of customers. only two booths were occupied, one containing a young couple tangled in each other’s arms, and the other containing a man wearing a baseball cap with the UK flag patched on it.

he looked up from his phone as you approached, seemingly unsurprised based on the grin he gave you.

“glad to see you got here in one piece,” he says as you shrug off your bag, placing it on the floor as you slide into the seat across from him.

“one drenched piece,” you say, and he gives a small chuckle.

“im kyle,” the man tells you. “don’t know what laswell told you,” he clicks off his phone and places it on the table. “but im one of the sergeants.”

you nod. “callsign ‘gaz,’ right?”

he gives a nod of his own. his phone buzzes, the screen lighting up. his eyes glance down, scan the message, then meet yours once more.

“rest of the team got held up. price is in a meeting. johnny and ghost are on assignment, but they’re due back any day now.”

“so you’re the welcome committee by default, huh?” you say, and he laughs.

“guess i am. have i scared you off yet?”

“dunno,” you tell him. “but laswell sings your praises. the captain’s, especially.”

“she sings yours, too.” kyle says.

you give a small nod, your mind racing at what laswell may have told the task force. you weren’t bad at your job— you were great at it. a great shot, a reliable solider, a tireless sentry.

your emotions got the better of you at times, that was all. attachments and bonds that formed, linking you and your fellow soldiers together in the web of warfare. tying you around the wrist and dragging you along, for better or worse. little siblings or lovers evolving from what once had been just another set of boots on the ground.

this job was all you had. you found family where you had too, and it made you all the more loyal. but when you were spurned? when the fire leapt from the pit and scorched your skin?

you weren’t quick to forgive, and you found that reasonable in this line of work. mistakes by teammates could get you killed. who could blame you for holding a grudge against an ally who had almost cost you your life?

it’s why you were here now. a new start with a new team— a team of the best, you included.

kyle’s phone buzzes again. he picks it up, the screen illuminating his face as the lights flicker overhead. the storm wasn’t letting up.

“cap’s on his way— says he’ll be here in less than 30.”

“price, right?” you recall his name. kyle nods.

“don’t tell him I told you,” he leans in, a mischievous look in his eyes, “but he’s been lookin’ forward to meeting you. maybe even more than johnny has.”

“why’s that?”

“said the one-four-one is overdue for someone else who can kick johnny’s ass. wants you to knock him down a few more pegs.”

you laugh at that, giving a small shake of your head. kyle’s lips curl into a smile. “nah, he’s just happy to have some more hands on deck. always helps to have another person that’ll watch your back.”

as kyle starts talking again, you find your nerves settling.

maybe this team could be your new family.

you looked down at your hands, noting the slight shake of them. you don’t think they’d been steady since before everything happened.

your eyes glance to the ugly, scarred stump of the finger you’d lost. simon hadn’t chopped it off prettily, and it’d been stitched up hastily. you couldn’t blame the doctor, there had been more pressing injuries to attend to.

such as the bone-deep cut to one leg, growing infected from your time spent in the chair. the scar was long, stretching from the top of your thigh to your knee. it was still pink, a sign of your body still trying to put itself back together.

your torso wasn’t much better. jagged scars and puckered knots of skin marred your image. both from before and from after.

your eyes met your own in the mirror. you barely recognized yourself. the anger within you still burned, but its flame had reduced to a simmer. exhaustion, apathy, and shame had taken its place.

perhaps that was a good thing. it saved you the energy of fighting the men you inevitably saw every day. despite your numerous pleas and demands for them to simply leave you alone, they seemed to have a hard time listening. it made you want to scream. to hurt them, digging your fingers into skin until they understood the pain behind your words.

a knock sounded at the door. you didn’t move.

a knock again. you could hear the shuffle of feet outside the door. you wished whoever it was would leave you be.

another knock, accompanied by the soft timbre of kyle’s voice.

“love, you alright in there?” he was saying. you still stood before the mirror.

things had been different since you attacked the doctor. it had only been a few days, but word spread quickly through base. if people had avoided you before, you were like the plague now.

and the shame you felt was insurmountable. the pain and regret and fury were building like a tidal wave in your stomach, rising and choking the air from your lungs.

you wanted to leave this place. get away from the men you once called family, the one you once called yours.

but leaving meant the end of your career. you just had to hold out until kate arranged your transfer, that’s all. just a few more days, right?

and then this place and these people wouldn’t be a constant reminder of what had happened to you. of what it had done to you, physically and mentally.

“go, kyle,” you called out to him, breaking from your trance as you reached for the scratchy robe johnny had gifted you one christmas.

“not until i see you breathin’, love.”

you sigh, tying the robe shut and hugging the material to your body. you moved to the door, turning the lock before inching it open.

“breathing,” you tell him, watching as his eyes flick away from yours. god, it made you want to strangle him.

to yell at him, to yell at all of them— "you did this, and you should be able to look me in the eyes and see it.”

“now go.”

he looks at you again, eyebrows furrowed in worry. “will you let me in?” he asks, and you scoff as you move to slam the door.

“fuck off, kyle.”

but he’s quick, and his hand shoots out, grasping the door’s wooden edge and keeping it from closing.

“we need to talk.”

“whatever you need to say, you can say it from there,” you tell him, and he pauses for a minute before he nods.

“doc is asking about you again. she’s up and runnin’ around. said she wants to see you.”

your lips press into a thin line. you didn’t deserve that woman’s kindness, not after what you’d done to her.

you hadn’t been in your right mind, but that didn’t excuse it. you had bloodied your fists; harmed an innocent in the war between you and your own mind.

you didn’t want to see her still worrying about you when you had assured her you were fine. you had left her supervision, and then you’d attacked her. and you hadn’t stopped until simon had pulled you away.

you would’ve killed her, you know that in your heart. you would’ve killed her, thinking she was one of the men who had wanted to kill you.

“tell her im fine,” you said, your hand tightening around the door’s knob.

“i think she’d rather see that for herself,” he says.

“im fine,” you repeat. “i’ll be out of everyone’s hair in a few days, anyways.”

kyle’s eyebrows lifted in surprise. “you’re leaving?”

he knew this, they all did. perhaps they just didn’t truly believe it. all of them, every single one, still thought you’d turn around and run back into their arms.

bastards.

“as soon as laswell gives the word,” you reply. “should be soon.”

kyle doesn’t speak. he’s obviously biting his tongue— you’d seen the expression that was on his face enough to know when he was holding back, but you didn’t prod like you would’ve before.

let him keep his secrets, lies, promises, and sorries. you didn’t need them anymore.

“don’t bother me again,” you said before shutting the door in his face.

you hear him sigh on the other side of the wood, then hear the retreat of his steps. you turn back to the mirror, snarl, and grab the alarm clock from your nightstand.

you throw it into the glass, shattering it to pieces. seven years of bad luck, you think.

well, it couldn’t get much worse, could it?

kyle sighs, staring at your door for a second longer before turning away. simon looks down at him from where he was leaning against the wall, hidden from your view, his muscled arms crossed over his chest.

“surprised?” simon asks as the two of them retreat down the hallway. he makes sure they’re far enough from your door before speaking, so that you won’t hear his voice.

“we knew it was happening, price said as much after that whole thing with johnny,” kyle replies, shoving his hands into the pockets of his pants. “just thought this might change things.”

“change ‘em how?” simon says. “if anythin’, this speeds it up. they’re a liability now.”

“they’re hurt, ghost,” kyle retorts, his eyes meeting his superior’s. “that’s ptsd. not everyone’s as forgiving as the doc. they attack someone outside and that’s a fucking felony.”

“that’s not our problem, sergeant,” comes simon’s baritone reply, and kyle stops.

“you’re a fuckin’ case yourself, y’know that, LT?” he says, and simon stops. “we all played a part,” kyle continues. “but you? you would’ve killed ‘em if we never knew the truth. i know you would’ve. i’ve seen you do it.”

the men stare at each other. simon’s expression is hidden underneath his balaclava, but kyle knows it’s unreadable regardless.

mean, old ghost. heartless bastard, loyal to the mission only. that’s what the others around base whispered to each other.

kyle had seen proof to the contrary. yes, simon was loyal to the mission. but he was also loyal to his team, his family. you.

he was loyal to you.

“watch yourself, sergeant,” simon speaks, his voice a dangerous rumble.

kyle scoffs and walks off, shaking his head.

simon watches him go, his breath steady.

kyle didn’t understand him, not really. not the way you had begun to. and that was his own fault, he knows it. forever holding those close to him at arms length for fear of the worst.

he’d let you in— let you invade that space he enforced so ruthlessly. and the worst had happened.

kyle doesn’t know this is tearing him in half; none of the team does. they don’t understand that simon wants you to stay because you’re you, but he wants you gone because he can see how this is killing you.

even when he’s the villain in your story, he’s still trying to look out for you— in his own, twisted way.

he doesn’t regret it. that is cemented in his mind. but as he grapples with his own emotions, his mind in its own turmoil, he knows he wants you to be okay.

“im sorry,” he had spoken to deaf ears.

sorry for the ripping apart of your life, but not sorry for what he had done.

deep down, he knew you would never forgive them. he knew that leaving this team would be the best thing for you.

he knew, he knew, he knew.

knowing and accepting are two different things.

hope this was worth the wait! i think the next part will be the end, unless my idea changes 👀

[theonottsbxtch]

Secret Sister | OP81

in which lando has a secret sister and oscar falls hard and fast

oscar piastri x norris!reader

fc: sophia birlem

a/n: lol hello this is my first ever smau, everyone say thank you rianna. hope you enjoy this and if you have any requests lmk!

landonorris:

liked by ynnorris, oscarpiastri, maxfewtrell and 1376 more

happy 21st birthday to this gremlin, ig being your big brother is fun or whatever @/ynnorris

*tap to load comments*

userone: i’m sorry i beg your pardon what

usertwo: someone say sike rn

maxfewtrell: lando you’re going to break the internet with this post

userthree: a bit too late

userfour: YOU KNEW?!

ynnorris: guys i’ve been held captive for 21 years. dobby is free!

yourbestfriend: how long have you been waiting to say that?

ynnorris: 3 years

userfive: how did lando manage to pull this off for so long?!

oscarpiastri: you have a sister??

maxverstappen1: lando what?

usersix: it’s the way lando just hardlaunched that he had a sister for me 😭

alex_albon: I KNEW IT

georgerussell63 : i’m so sorry i never believed you

alex_albon: i was onto him back in 2019, you guys just thought i was delusional😞

userseven: moral of the story, always trust alex

ynnorris

liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri, maxfewtrell and 47 others

hello world. twenty first and graduation? now you guys know who the smartest norris is xx

*tap to load comments*

landonorris: you’re public for one day and you already start publicly bullying me wtf

userone: oh i like her already

usertwo: sorry did i just see she graduated in computer science? from edinburgh? we love an educated queen

yourbestfriend: world’s hottest programmer

ynnorris: get it on a top

yourbestfriend: yes ma’am

userthree: why did she have to wait until her 21st to post? i’m so confused 😭

userfour: maybe lando didnt want her to be in the limelight and now that she’s an adult she’s in control of it?

userthree: oh that makes sense

ynnorris: he just didn’t want people to know that his sister is 100x cooler than him

userfive: yn pls 😭😭😭

oscarpiastri: hello

ynnorris: hello

landonorris: not happening

usersix: oh no poor lando 😭

maxverstappen1: @/landonorris i refuse to believe she’s real, tell her to come to monaco with a birth certificate

imessage

twitter

instagram - ynnorris

liked by landonorris, yourbestfriend, oscarpiastri and 973 others

just arrived to monaco and lan’s ditched me for max, give me recs x

*tap to load comments*

userone: i love that she thinks we’re rich enough to ever be in monaco

usertwo: the waterfront!

yourbestfriend: what happened to “we’ll go together”?

ynnorris: you chose your girlfriend over me 😁

yourbestfriend: she is quite literally graduating today

ynnorris: then don’t complain x

userthree: that’s a few too many suitcases no?

oscarpiastri: the vaundé bakery or the hiking trail

ynnorris: noted 🫡

userfour: something is going to happen between them two i’m calling it now

instagram dms

ynnorris

liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris, yourbestfriend and 2734 others

i guess i understand why lando left gloomy london for this

*tap for more comments*

userone: where are the insta detectives, is that the bakery oscar recommended

usertwo: it is!

userthree: is that oscar?

oscarpiastri: no

userthree: oh no he’s experiencing his first heartbreak

landonorris: lol

userfour: foul

userfive: she’s living the dream

yourbestfriend: i miss u

ynnorris: come here, lando said i could invite anyone

landonorris: i did not.

ynnorris: do you want mum and dad to find out what happened to the clutch of their old fiesta?

landonorris: @/yourbestfriend what i meant to say is you’re more than welcome

usersix: she’s so effortlessly funny

imessage

ynnorris

liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris, maxfewtrell and 7610 others

monaco over and out, see you soon 😉

*tap to load comments*

userone: is that oscar??

usertwo: god she is so pretty

userthree: i know oscar’s back when i see it

oscarpiastri: photo credits? 🙄

userfour: i knew it!

ynnorris: the photos are mediocre at best

oscarpiastri: take them down then, copyright 😤

ynnorris: big baby 😤

userfive: wait they’re so cute

maxfewtrell: oh yn

yourbestfriend: he’s going to kill you

landonorris: is that my balcony?

landonorris: answer the phone yn

ynnorris: no x

[shaybae1114]

Wolf hybrid x bunny hybrid reader.

You couldn't possibly be anymore nervous. You were meeting with the sigma of the all alpha pack. They needed a female for their heat, and you needed multiple males to help you through yours. Bunny heats could lead to death if not treated properly, and you were a shunned rabbit. No burrow would take you. Darius looked you up and down his claws digging into his chair he couldn't believe such a cute tiny bunny was in his office wishing to agree to the stupid ad his 2nd had recommended they put out. His pack was getting to riled needing a pussy to keep them in line but never did he expect a bunny rabbit. You smelt like sunshine and freshly grown flowers he couldn't help but wonder if all rabbits smelt like that.

"They accused me of a crime I didn't commit. I swear even though I'm a shunned. i'll bring no harm to you or your pack. I just dont wish to die in agony from something that can be helped. And if I do end up pregnant, I request to be welcomed to stay in pack territory. I will not leave any of my children." You stated the conversation had been going smoothly, but the sigma had started to look furious. You couldn't help but start to panic more. Did he believe the rumors did he just call you here to see the only shunned bunny in history like many others had before.

"Many of the males in my pack were shunned for the wrong reasons. I don't care about such a worthless thing. I just need a willing female to aid us and many have not been interested in helping my whole pack. They don't want there young to be born from tainted." Darius growled. He knew he shouldn't feel insulted at the females accusations but it still stung after all he would never rip a child from there mother or judge somebody for being shunned.

"I didn't mean to offend you. I just want to make sure there is no miss understanding." You whispered softly. The heat suppressant was starting to wear off , you where gonna cry over upsetting the wolf. This meeting needed to wrap up or you'd be in heat with a pack who didn't want you. Never again you'd sworn standing quickly. "Thank you for having me but since your clearly not interested I'm going to leave now."

"When did I say I wasn't interested?" Darius asked tilting his head inhaling your sweet scent. The scent of your arousal making his instincts go off. If anything he wanted to make sure you got under him and stayed there. He stood towering over you. He grabbed a strand of your hair twirling it into his fingers. He pulled you close your lips almost touching. "You will stay in my room for right now while I prep my pack then I'll have my way with you before they get there turn. I can't wait to have you falling apart for me little bunny nothing more than a brainless slut begging for more from me.... from my pack." He growled his eyes glowing golden with how his instincts where leading is emotions. As the soft needy whimper left your lips he stole the sound closing the distance.

Darius's kiss was all primal he made it clear he was in charge. He growled as he picked you up grinding his hard cock against your heat. The feeling of his jeans rubbing against your clit had you whining into the kiss for more. And Darius was going to give it to you.

He broke the kiss slowly placing you back on the ground making sure to keep your pressed close down as he did.

"Wh.. why did you stop." You stuttered blushing heavily wanting to reconnect with him.

"My office is not the place to start this. My pack has a room they made just for the female we brought in." He stated as he dragged you from the office. "My males will want you there ready and if I start with you now I won't stop." He groaned as he scented your arousal once again his sweet rabbit was so needy so wet already. As you entered the room that was located not to far from his office thank the gods for that. You where awe struck the room was beautiful truly looked like the room of your dreams.

"It's incredible I know you designed it for any female but it almost feels like it was made for me." You shook your head at the silly thought. Darius stepped forward placing his finger under your chin to make you look up at him.

"We all argued on this room for months before it was completed. So perhaps it was." Darius eyes where soft glad you liked the room. You grabbed his collar and pulled him down wanting to show the sigma how much you really appreciated the room. He chuckled kissing you softly. "Take of your clothes and lay down ass up on the bed." He stated nipping at your lips before stepping back. Sitting in a chair you hadn't noticed immediately but once you did, You realized it took in view of the whole bed you licked your lips perhaps Darius liked to watch. You had stopped in your tracks do to the fantasies that where running thru your mind. Darius watching while giving orders to his men while they handled you. "Bunny I believe I told you to do something." At Darius's tone you snapped out of your thoughts making eye contact he was the image of someone in control.

"Yes sir." You whispered out with a blush going to quickly strip. Darius tcked. Standing back up grabbing your hands.

"Stay calm bunny there is no rush. Give me a show baby girl." Darius whispered leaning into to drag kisses along your neck. "Mmm your heart is racing little bunny is it fear or desire?"

"Desire I've never wanted somebody as much as I want you." You gasped out as he gave a rough nip to your collarbone. He couldn't help but grin against your neck at that he felt the same he'd make sure you got pregnant he wouldn't let you leave him now.

"I'm gonna sit back down bunny and once I'm seated your gonna give me a show then lay on the bed with your pretty ass up, So I can see your cute little tail." Darius ordered releasing you to return to the chair. You watched silently as he got comfortable. Once he was fully seated you slowly reached down pulling your shirt off slowly. Your tail wagging in excitment. Darius's dominating mannerism had your panties soaked. Darius growled

As you finally revealed yourself his eyes traveled along your body taking you in. He jerked his head towards the bed encouraging you to do the next order. Finding the courage you turned to the predator giving him your back. Your heart rate once again picking up while your pussy only got wetter wondering what it'd be like to have him hunt you and use you for himself. Slowly crawling onto the bed wiggling your butt and little tail at the wolf. You where getting more and more wet by the second especially knowing the wolves eyes hadn't left you.

"Oh the bunny want to play does she." He snarled as you wiggled your tail and looked at him with half lidded eye lunging from the chair, he quickly closed the distance. You let out a startled yelp going to scurry up the bed to avoid the wolf. Your fight or flight extinct kicking in at Darius's sudden fierceness. He grabbed your hip with one hand while the other grabbed your long ears pulling your head back. Effectively pinning you to the mattress with his body. You where at his mercy. "Oh bunny you know better then to run from a big bad wolf don't you? That's how you get devoured and I'm gonna have my fill sweetheart." He groaned grinding his cock against your ass. You let out a soft whimper burying your face into the bedding as he released your ears. "Fuck bunny..." He groaned. "I can smell how needy your poor little cunt is. I need a taste. Don't fucking move." He growled as he slowly stood up. You where frozen the only thing you could acknowledge was the sound of your own heart beat. A soft gasp left your lips as you heard the sounds of his belt being undone and his pants hitting the floor.

"P....please Darius I need you." You stammered out you where to excited and things where going to slow.

"Oh no sweetheart this pretty cunt is about to belong to me ill take as much time as I please." He reached out spreading your fold licking his lips at the sight of your dripping cunt. He smirked taking a picture and sending it to the group messenger his pack had. I found our girl I'm gonna stuff her full first. Next one here gets her. Tossing his phone onto the floor knowing his pack would diffently rush to arrive he wanted to get his fill as promised. Darius bent down grabbing your ankles he pulled you down closer to him chuckling as you squeaked and quickly repositioning you on the edge of the bed your cunt and ass completely open to him. You moaned at the feeling of his fingers starting to rub along your clit. Darius wasn't joking about having his fill. He listened to every whimper and moan as he continued to move his fingers on your clit. He groaned in delight as he finally slide his index finger into your sopping cunt.

"Your pretty little pussy is sobbing in need she want a big thick knot to stuff her full." He stated looking into your eyes enjoying the way the rolled back when he made contact with your sweet spot. "A there's your g spot baby I bet you haven't found it with your pretty tiny fingers." He added a second finger smirking as your back arched off the sheets. The pressure building in your stomach telling you how close you where to cumming but suddenly Darius stopped pulling his fingers out of your puffy needy cunt.

"W...why did you stop." You whined soft tears falling down your cheeks. Darius groaned at the sight.

"Wanted to hear you beg for it hunny." He chuckled at the distress look that filled your features. He lifted up your left leg nibbling gently at your ankle. "You'll beg your Alpha to let you cum won't you sweet bunny?"

"Please Alpha please let's me cum." His smirk widened as he lunged for your cunt. Keeping your thigh pinned on his shoulder. You let out a startled cry as his thick tongue slide directly into your cunt. Darius growled against your clit as the taste of your cunt filled his every sense. Using his thum. to rub steady patterns on your clit he began to fuck you with his tongue using his hand to grab your hip pulling you closer to his mouth. Darius pulled back with a groan his face moist with your wetness. He smirked at you biting your ass cheek drawing out a soft moan from your lips. "fucking..bite....delicious....bite...gonna make sure you have our pups gonna keep your sweet pussy forever."

The finger that had been playing with your clit slid back he held eye contact with you as he pushed the finger inside. "Your poor cunt she's so needy only put my thumb in and she trying so hard to take me deeper to have more." He growled as he pulled his thumb out replacing it with three more. He and his brothers where all large and you where just a poor tiny bunny compared to them. Letting out a startled cry you clawed at the sheets underneath you. Back arching while grinding your hips onto the hand that was currently bring you close to the best orgasm you've ever has. Darius's eyes flashed at the sight of you cumming undone around his fingers. He quickly.pulled out his fingers flipping you back onto your stomach. Quickly sliding them back inside before you could let out any protest.

"Please Dare I... I'm gonna cum again." You gasped out making him gladly pick up the pace. Moaning loudly when suddenly his hand came down slapping your clit. You let out a sound that you'd never heard yourself make before eyes slamming shut and head thrown back as the pain made you squirt on his fingers.

"Fuck baby girl trying to milk my fingers dry. Let's give you something big and hard that you can get all those needy spots for you sweetheart." Darius shifted and dragged the head of his cock along your sensitive clit enjoying the soft whimpers and needy cries that kept escaping your lips.

"Please Dare fuck me I want you to fill me up. Wanna take your knot like a good girl." You gasped out reaching for him.

"Fuck baby girl gonna fuck you hard and deep." Darius snarled as he leaned over you slowly pushing his cock into your dripping heat. He moaned kissing you his tongue demanding entrance to distract you from the burning pain of stretching on his cock. As you returned the kiss he grabbed your hips pushing into you till his knot didn't allow him to go any further. You whinned at the feeling you where already so full and could feel his knot pressed against your lips, rubbing on your clit as Darius lazily rolled his hips.

"Sooo big.... I don't think I'll be able to take your knot." You cried soft tears sliding down your cheeks. You'd never been so full before or so sensitive. Darius looked down at you his eyes soft.

"You will sweetheart I'm gonna start moving okay and while I do why don't you play with your pretty pussy for me." You nodded at his wishes biting your lip as you dragged you hand to your clit. Before giving your clit some attention as your fingers gave your clit a light pinch. Darius pulled out and as you pulled on the sensitive bud he slammed back in. You cried out clenching tightly around his girth at the sensation it was to much you dropped your hands away from your cunt gripping tightly on to the sheet beneath you as Darius began to pound into you. You'd swear he was trying to hit your cervix and with how deep he was you where sure he would in no time.

Darius had lost it and the poor little rabbit under him had no clue. The sight of her hair spread out along her back, her pretty eyes glistening with unshed tears he couldn't wait to draw out, and then when she pulled on her pretty nipples biting her lip as he slammed himself deep inside of her fuck. He couldn't think anymore he wanted one thing and one thing only and that was to fill his mate with his seed. He listened to your sweet cries as he continued to pound himself deep inside of you pushing against all your sweet spot adjusting to what made you tighten up or what didn't. And as you came on his cock he roared dropping himself down placing his face into your neck picking and nibbling at the spot he was gonna mark. He thrust deep his cock piercing your cervix while his knot slid into you with a soft pop. He couldn't stop himself from sinking his teeth into your throat. You saw stars as you came around his knot his cum warm and thick as it began to fill you.

"Fuck. That was hot." You startled out of your haze at the sound of a new voice. Looking by the chair you saw 3 more alpha males standing taking in the erotica scene infront of them.

(Part 2 as soon as I can I'm a perfectionist and I wasn't even sure if I wanted to post this 🫢)