#from the liberties instagram

[winnerkirkwood]

New York Liberties celebrate winning the 2024 WNBA Championship

[lodgeofeilhart]

[pernillecfcw]

Nah this has got me laughing 🤣🤣

[frizzyanya]

While I'm taking pictures of my fridge, spot the Hollanov reference.

[98percentofthewnbaisgay]

Stewie introducing herself !

[maplesyrupsainz]

˖⁺｡˚⋆˙obsessed with u | LN4 ˖⁺｡˚⋆˙

pairing: lando norris x ln4 admin/photographer!reader y/n (she/her)

genre: social media au, new relationship

warnings: none just a lot of fluff!!

summary: in which a podium means you and your boyfriend hard launch a little bit early <3

a/n: omg i feel like this fanfic revived me and im back fr 🙏 hope it's ok OMG i rly tried to make a good plot but i fear i got no inspo atm anyway i fancy lando soooo badly atm it's rly shocking how bad i want him anyway ENJOY!!!! hope it dont suck ballzzz ahhhhhhhh

request!!!: lando x reader smau where reader is the admin of the Instagram account lnfour. You absolutely have the liberty of what you wanna do with it

fc: various blonde girls from pinterest

my masterlist

instagram ->

landonorris posted a story

liked by yourusername, carlossainz55, and 381,117 others

user1 stop soft launching and tell us who she issss

user2 need details

user3 👀 mr lando norris plz spill

carlossainz55 cute

liked by landonorris

yourusername posted a story

liked by yourbff, landonorris, and 18,204 others

yourbff ugh lil cuties

liked by yourusername

user4 so cute

friend1 aww look at you guys

liked by yourusername

lnfour 📍 melbourne, australia

liked by landonorris, mclaren, and 183,927 others

lnfour ready for the weekend 🦘

tagged: landonorris

view all 4,013 comments

user5 any sign of the gf then? 👀

user6 i love y/n's photographyyy

user7 same she's got the female gaze downnnn

user8 he's so hot

liked by lnfour

user9 admin leak who his gf is to us plz xxx

user10 i have a good feeling about this weekend's race 🙏

lnfour us too!!! 🕯️

interview ->

twitter ->

instagram ->

lnfour

liked by carlossainz55, maxverstappen1, and 201,723 others

lnfour anyone else hoping for a big reveal this weekend then?

view all 6,812 comments

carlossainz55 yes, me

lnfour 😂

user16 HELLOOO???

user17 urm wait guys hear me out

user18 let me guess you think he's dating y/n

user17 👀

user19 who is y/n omg im losttttt

user20 literally lnfour admin and photographer lol

landonorris 🤷‍♀️

liked by lnfour

user21 STRESSSS

user22 heart palpitations

yourusername posted a story

liked by landonorris, yourbff, and 31,022 others

landonorris damn who's that sexy man

yourusername 🙄

user23 HMMMM

user24 lando & y/n dating???

user25 that your man?

yourbff stop coz they're connecting the dots y/n

yourusername what dots?!!!

yourusername

liked by landonorris, mclaren, and 96,283 others

yourusername it's race day mi amigos

view all 3,727 comments

user26 mi amigos... muchos debris... they're meant to be perhaps

user27 some of you are reaching doesn't y/n have a bf already?

user28 she's been soft launching but nothing is confirmed so it could be anyone 👀

landonorris keep me in your thoughts and prayers

yourusername 😂 always!

user29 they're in love

user30 dramatic much

user31 wouldn't it be weird for lando to date someone he works with 😭

oscarpiastri let's goooooo

yourusername 💪

landonorris posted a story

liked by lnfour, yourbff, and 281,114 others

lnfour 💪💪💪💪💪💪 you got this

liked by landonorris

user32 URM HELLOOOO

user33 hi y/n

user34 hmmmmmmmm

user35 this is a big enough reveal to me .. 😇

lnfour posted a story

liked by landonorris, mclaren, and 22,927 others

user36 🤞🤞🤞🤞

user37 we're gonna win babyyyyyyy

liked by lnfour

mclaren posted a story

liked by lnfour, oscarpiastri, and 586,711 others

lnfour 🧡🧡🧡

user38 AHHHHHHHHHHH

user39 our boyyy

user40 big reveal when?

yourusername so proud

liked by mclaren

user41 p1 next time

twitter ->

instagram ->

yourusername posted a story

liked by carlossainz55, charles_leclerc, and 63,018 others

carlossainz55 so cute of him

yourusername CONGRATULATIONS CARLOS ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

user42 are you going to celebrate together

user43 AWWWW HE'S SO CUTE

charles_leclerc a handsome boy

yourusername 😊😊😊😊

oscarpiastri you'll come out celebrating with us?

yourusername wouldn't miss it for the world

alexandrasaintmleux posted a story

liked by landonorris, lilyzneimer, and 14,928 others

user44 she's such a wag without even being a wag

user45 love her

user46 oh to be in this friend group 😭

user47 she's so mother

oscarpiastri posted a story

liked by yourbff, landonorris, and 282,016 others

user48 IS THAT Y/N AND LANDO

user49 lando and y/n omg??

user50 OMG?????

landonorris delete

yourusername delete

*this story has been deleted*

twitter ->

instagram ->

landonorris posted a story

liked by yourbff, carlossainz55, and 305,137 others

yourusername not hiding it anymore then?

landonorris guess not 👀

yourbff AHHHHHH ily guys

liked by landonorris

user56 scream

user57 BIG REVEAL?!

lnfour

liked by landonorris, carlossainz55, and 118,045 others

lnfour this weekend hit different

tagged: landonorris, carlossainz55

view all 2,018 comments

user58 YEA I BET IT DID

user59 just missing charles!!!!

user60 i love lando and carlos' friendship sm

user61 interesting

user62 not her acting like nothing is going on 😝

user63 WE KNOW

yourusername

liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri, and 221,673 others

yourusername hits different cause it's u

view all 4,381 comments

user64 peep oscar

lilyzneimer pretty couple 🫶

liked by landonorris, yourusername

user65 omgggg mclaren wag bffs

alexandrasaintmleux ily y/n

yourusername ilysm❤️🧡

yourbff GORGEOUS COUPLE

liked by yourusername, landonorris

user66 omg im so excited

user67 best big reveal ever

landonorris wow. look at u

yourusername donttttt. you'll make me blush 😭

user68 i love them omg

landonorris posted a story

liked by yourusername, yourbff, and 599,738 others

user69 AHHH TERRITORIAL LANDO YES PLSSS

user70 god she's hot

yourusername NOOO I SAID STOP I'LL BLUSH😭😭😭😭😭

landonorris you think i dont want that???!

yourusername obsessed with u omg

landonorris obsessed with u a lot more trust

THE END 🧡

[azzibuckets]

attitude [pazzi]

paige bueckers x azzi fudd

summary: paige catches attitude and azzi keeps her in check

a/n: basically the nyfw and ny liberty game fic yall requested. @makethemhoesmad to thank for the prompt!!!!

masterlist

Paige had never been a big fan of side parts, but that was before Azzi Fudd.

Now, as she stared at her girlfriend, her soft curls tossed to the left and framing her doe brown eyes in just the right way, Paige wanted to tangle her fingers in Azzi’s hair and kiss her and kiss her.

But knowing Azzi likely wouldn’t take kindly to messing up her makeup after hours of sitting in her chair, Paige settled for merely inching a little bit closer to her best friend on the couch where they were sitting. Azzi’s cheeks turned a faint red when Paige brushed her pinky against hers. “I’m not gonna lie, you look hot as hell right now,” Paige said lowly, voice thick with want.

Azzi’s blush turned fiery. “You sure know how to woo a girl,” she said sarcastically.

Paige leaned in closer. “Is it working?” she asked, her lips only a few centimeters from Azzi’s mouth. Azzi’s eyes flicked down before she inhaled and scooted back. “You’re gonna mess up my makeup.”

Paige looked wounded at the distance between them. “You weren’t saying that last night,” she quipped, earning a smack to the head. “Yo, you’re gonna mess up my hair,” Paige complained, turning to face the mirror and adjust some strands.

“Good, maybe all the bitches will back off,” Azzi joked lightly.

“At least those bitches would kiss me,” Paige grumbled, eyes glazing over as she stared at Azzi’s lips.

“Control your face,” Azzi chastised, though her heart warmed at how Paige looked more in love with her every time she saw her. “Especially in front of the cameras later.”

“I know, I know.”

•••••••••••••••••••••

Paige was not controlling her face.

She had done a pretty good job at the beginning of the event. Hell, she’d been beaming and shit seeing the crowd she was intermingling with, filled with celebrities she’d never thought she’d meet in person.

That was until that same redheaded slut kept approaching her girlfriend and smiling at her in that slinky way. It didn’t help that she was unable to secure neighboring seats with Azzi, forcing her to sit across the room and burn holes into the ginger’s head as she laughed at everything her girlfriend was saying.

“Remind me to play poker with you some day,” Brittany piped up from next to her. “I would walk away a millionaire.”

Paige clenched her jaw. “You think this is funny?”

“You really think carrot head holds a candle to you?”

“Her boobs are sticking out and shit in that dress she’s wearing,” Paige gritted through her teeth, completely ignoring Brittany’s words.

Brittany smiled, enjoying the show unfolding before her. “Maybe you should do something about it,” she goaded.

“Fuck this.” Paige slid out her phone, hoping to distract herself by scrolling through Instagram. Her grip tightened, almost cracking her phone when the first post she came across was a picture of her and Azzi posing from the hour before, and all she saw in the comments were people thirsting over her girlfriend like animals (Aka me). “People have no civility these days,” she decided, shoving her phone back into her pocket.

Brittany only smirked.

As soon as the runway ended, Paige leapt from her seat and started making her way towards her girlfriend. All thoughts of wayward cameras left her mind as her vision tunneled in on the way the redhead’s acrylics scraped lightly over Azzi’s bicep.

“Hey,” she said lowly, hands tracing down Azzi’s sides before settling at her hips. “Who’s this?” She nodded at the girl but kept her eyes on Azzi.

Azzi’s eyes furrowed in confusion at Paige’s carelessness, her hands subtly covering the blonde’s and gently pushing them away. “This is Odelia. She’s one of the interns coordinating New York Fashion Week!”

“That’s nice.” Paige’s voice dripped with fake enthusiasm as she leaned her chin on Azzi’s shoulder, arms going back to circle her waist. “I bet you’re an amazing intern.”

Azzi shifted at the condescending way Paige emphasized intern. She stepped away, causing Paige’s hands to drop. From the way Azzi’s eyes glared daggers into her, Paige knew she was in for it later. Oh well. The look in Odelia’s face had been worth it.

•••••••••••••••••••

“I’m hungry,” Azzi announced as soon as she slid in the back seat of her car.

Paige stared out the window, her neck stiff. “Maybe you should’ve eaten that redhead bitch.”

Azzi stilled, only halfway into the car before she realized her surroundings and climbed fully in, shutting the door behind her. “That redhead bitch?” Azzi repeated, mocking the same tone Paige had used.

Paige slumped low into her seat, pulling down the drawstrings of her hoodie that she’d replaced her sweater with. “Fucking looking at her like she was a four course meal,” she muttered under her breath, her gaze stilled fixed on the buildings whirring past outside.

Azzi decided to ignore Paige, not wanting to have a conversation like this in the backseat of the Uber. “Can you make a stop at McDonald’s?” she asked the driver, who nodded and started to shift lanes.

“Bro, let me just go home,” Paige complained.

“Drop the attitude,” Azzi warned, her tone deadly. Paige glowered even more but immediately shut up.

“You want anything?” Azzi asked as they pulled up to the drive through.

No response.

“Paige Madison Bueckers.”

“A cheeseburger and fries.”

When they were given their food, Paige made sure to start munching loudly, knowing Azzi’s pet peeve was loud chewers.

Azzi set down her burger and rubbed her temples. “So you’re gonna keep being a brat?”

Paige chewed louder.

In one quick motion, Azzi snatched the fries from Paige’s hand and dumped them into the bag. Paige immediately reached over to grab it back, but Azzi quickly menauevered it, putting the food between the door and her body. “Act like a kid and get treated like a kid,” Azzi said, her voice hard.

••••••••••••

If Paige had been mad last night, she was furious now. After they’d got home, they’d had a little fight before Paige had stubbornly went to the couch for the night. With the business of their trip, they hadn’t had time to talk about it since, and it was killing Paige not being able to hug and kiss her girlfriend for the entire day.

Did Paige know she was being bratty and stupid? Yes. But Azzi was always so sexy when she was worked up.

Paige did have a tactic. She was trying her hardest to not let her gaze settle, but for the tenth time in five minutes she found herself staring at Azzi again from across the arena. Her girlfriend’s hair was up in a bun now, slut strands framing her face. With the sunglasses she was wearing and the gum she was chewing, she looked perfectly poised, but Paige knew Azzi was still tense from their argument.

In all honesty, Paige wanted to be in Azzi’s lap, not sitting here watching the game. She’d tried to take her mind off Azzi’s long legs by striking up a conversation with Klay Thompson, who sat next to her, but as soon as the NBA star opened his mouth to respond, her thoughts returned to Azzi Azzi Azzi.

After the game, Paige tried to rush through all the pictures, but Azzi, who seemed to know what she was doing, merely smirked and took her time. She must’ve said hi to every single person on the Liberty and Aces roster before joining Paige at the exit.

“Someone’s in a rush,” Azzi noted as Paige sped walked to the car.

“Shut up right now.”

••••••••••••••

As soon as the door clicked behind them, Paige’s mouth was pressed feverishly against Azzi’s, her hands roaming across every single part of the younger girl’s body. “Looked like such a good fucking girl in this outfit,” she panted. “Got everyone fooled, but I see right through it.”

Azzi pressed Paige’s hips against the wall, holding her there. The blonde squirmed under Azzi’s stare coming from half lidded eyes. “Let’s talk about last night,” Azzi jabbed back. “Acting like a little fucking brat.”

Paige raised her hips, trying to roll them against Azzi’s, but Azzi’s grip was too firm. “You gonna punish me?” she breathed out, hands going up to Azzi’s shoulders to steady herself.

“I know your game,” Azzi husked, teeth dragging over Paige’s earlobe. “You think you’re so smart, huh?”

“Want you,” Paige whined, fingers hiking up Azzi’s shirt. “Need you.”

Azzi tsked, backing away from Paige. It took all of her self control not to take her right then and there, with the blonde slumped against the wall, eyes glazed over and hair a mess as she pouted. “No touching,” she said lowly. “Keep your hands to yourself.” Azzi slowly dragged her thumb down Paige’s jawline, relishing the heat of her skin and the way the older girl trembled under her touch. “Gonna make you regret all your attitude.”

Paige’s eyes fluttered shut. She fought back a smile. Azzi didn’t know it, but Paige had won.

[psycheetamore]

Eden found

Summary: In the shadow of a secluded New Mexican commune near Eddington, you, as journalist, seek answers from Vernon Jefferson Peak, a preacher shrouded in mystery at the wake of the Covid-19 pandemic. What begins as a quest to uncover his cult-like following spirals into an intoxicating world of biblical subversion, unbridled liberty, and a surreal journey through desire and control. As the line between observer and participant blurs, you are drawn deeper into a vortex of psychedelic rituals and forbidden ecstasy, orchestrated by Vernon’s commanding presence, in an attempt to find ultimate freedom in a worldly Eden. 

Tags: MDNI, erotic surrealism (explicit), cult fiction, biblical allegory, psychedelic rituals, spiritual awakening, gothic sensuality, pandemic exploration, psychological entrapment, power dynamics, hedonistic utopia, sacred orgy, journalistic descent. 

Word count: 4.2k 

Note: inspired by Aphex Twin's Windowlicker on repeat for hours, pictures by @mrs-hardy-hunnam-butler-pascal 

List of Austin inspired one shots / How Vernon Jefferson became Vernon Jefferson Peak

+++

You were scrolling through the Instagram page of a preacher from a small town called Eddington in the US, while your Amtrak train glided through the New Mexican landscape, through deserts and mountain ranges. As nearly every journalist, you too had been looking to cover the implications of the Covid-19 pandemic. With this profession you were exempt from several travel limitations, and your newest subject, a man called Vernon Jefferson Peak, had been more than willing to invite you out to his commune.

Stories reached you that he tried to have his little oasis protected against governmental restrictions. But why he was so adamant, what exactly he was trying to protect, that remained a mystery for you to uncover.

What you did not know as you cruised cross country, was that you would never use your return ticket back home. 

Clad with a mouth mask, you listened to his sermons for hours at an end. Rants, they were better called. He spoke about his absolute distrust of governmental authority, about his desire for ultimate freedom, his refusal to wear any protection. He spoke about the guns he owned, the drugs he used, the sanctuary he created. 

An intriguing man, scruffy shoulder length blond hair, deep dark eyes. With time, he seemed to become more ominous, as if emotion was eating into all his constraint. While he was an obscure, not well-known nearly 40-year-old preacher before Covid hit, his audience changed overnight. His teachings of complete autonomy appealed to many.  

You, not doubting the good intentions of the government, were not appealed by that part of his message. But you were captivated by his delivery, his passion, his shroud of mystery. He was so easy to listen to, yet so difficult to grasp.  

What made him like this? What was his background? How did he come of this vision? All questions you hoped to find. But none you would gain. 

After a long travel, a driver brings you to his commune, and wishes you good luck, while giving you a knowing wink. It grabs your attention, but not too much, as your focus soon shifts to the place you have arrived at. A ranch it seems to be, built in traditional New-Mexican architecture, showing influences of many cultures coming together into a melting pot.  

As you step through the front gate, smells of incense and marihuana plants hit your nose. Unapologetic.  

You traverse the plain to the main building. The distances between the walls surrounding this part, the gate and where you are walking towards are so grand, they nearly distort your view. Halfway you stop to close your eyes and shake your head, as if you are trying to recalibrate yourself. Probably the expedition and lack of food have taken its toll. But this would soon be resolved, as Vernon had kindly promised you a place to stay and bread to eat for as long as you decided to observe him. You had offered him pay, but he said the lord would decide how you would repay. 

It felt like ages before you arrived. As you stood under the steps you needed to take to climb up to the porch, it opened with a soft creak.  

And there he stood, as you lifted your head to look upon him, the sun coming from behind him, as if he was wrapped in god's appraisal. Wearing white flowy trousers and a white linen shirt, the sleeves rolled up displaying his sun-tanned underarms graced with veins and tattoos, the strings left dangling showing his chest, giving a glimpse of more tattoos that covered his otherwise lily-white skin. Broad shoulders. He was fit, for a priest. His hair as wavy as you saw online. A man true to himself.  

Yet, still an enigma.  

“Come, my guest. Let me get you something to eat, so you can be refreshed.” Hearing these words caused a shiver to run down your back. His voice, softer than on social media, while still remarkably intense. It was the first time you heard his voice life, as he had refused to speak with you. He only sent text messages, at random times and long intervals apart. You did hope you would not be spending the coming three days and nights, before your return home, following with a man who only recited bible verses.  

He walked down the stairs to grab the backpack from your back, as he extended his muscular arm into the space beyond the porch: “All for you to traverse. You will find rare and beautiful treasures in every corner.”  

“Thank you, mr Jefferson Peak” you replied, thinking how you never knew a man of the lord could be so... so strangly appealing. There was something about him. Something that drew you to him. 

“Please, call me father Vernon.” 

You followed him through his path of musk, orange and incense. Looking around you, in the cool and softly lit hallway, the rooms you passed held faint shadows of what appeared to be people wearing white dresses. He had told you before quite a few people lived here in freedom, under his protection. He did not wear a white dress, his lined trousers did a good task in hiding his curves, although you could not avoid seeing the sculpted round shape of his behind as he stepped up some stairs and the tattoos around the uncovered skin of his ankles.  

He brought you to another courtyard, about 10 by 15 meters of sand with a bit of shrubbery, surrounded with white painted walls, holding white painted wooden doors and windows covered with white painted shutters.  

“I will bring you to your room” looking over his shoulder, showing you a hint of a smile. For the first time, you felt there was life behind his dire eyes.  

Reaching your room, he pushed the door open, waved his arm to emphasise the room and said: “refresh and find me.” 

And that is what you did. You walked through the room, which was filled with the same smell as he had radiated. As if he had spent considerable time in this very place.  

You splashed water in your face, trying to get the lightness out of your head. As journalist you had learned that in places like these, you needed to be on your a-game not to be swayed by sweet words and pressing gestures. Emptying your backpack into the closets, you found similar white robes as you saw earlier. 

The water did not help. Whether it was the journey, the lack of food and water, or the penetrating smells, your brain was trying to escape your head. You tried googling to get some idea on how to quickly relief yourself from the pain, but your phone did not seem to have any reception here. A quick nap of 15 minutes might help you, you decided, together with a large sip of the carafe of water placed on the table. Your host did not give you any pressure to be somewhere on time, so he surely would be fine with this. 

15 minutes turned into 3 hours, feeling like days, awakening in the dark. You had overslept. But, your head no longer felt like exploding. Light yes, but no longer painful. You felt relaxed, at ease. More than you had experienced for a long time. Going this far from the city you grew up in, was a way to find a new story. But it was more of an escape from the daily pressure of your family's hope that started to mount on you. Expectations you would never be able to meet, as you decided – as their only child – not to become the desired doctor or lawyer. 

With a little bit of guilt, you took another sip of water tidied up your clothes and went out to find the man you came to visit. Walking past the courtyard, your path was lit by low-burning torches. The premises even more beautiful than during the day, you could not shed the eerie feeling this place gave you. There was something unalive about it. Something was off. As if you did not see everything. 

The walk brought you through different parts of the compound. Past many other white doors, buildings, trees.  

There, entering through a narrow gate, you found him. Sitting on a white wooden chair behind a fire, which was surrounded by a few dozen people sitting or resting on their knees on the ground. Big platters of food laying next to them, from which they jointly ate with their hands. Chatting. Nothing surrounds this place, other than mountains and far away forests. They are in the open, yet so secluded.  

Vernon saw you, as he lifted his arm to softly wave at you. 

Walking as softly as you could, not to have any dust arise on the dishes, you circled around to say hello. 

“I hope you slept well” he asked with a smile, the fire crackling as the light radiated on his face, emphasising his sharp jaw and high cheekbones, while making his eyes look darker than before. 

“Yes, thank you... father Vernon.” 

He chuckled softly. 

“Come, sit next to me” as he pointed at a place next to him that was evicted that very moment.  

You decided to play game. That is what you always did. That is why people trusted you. You immersed yourself, allowing you to paint the full picture. It made you a respected observant. 

Kneeling next to him, the only person not clad in white, you looked up and saw his eyes slowly grace over his followers that surrounded him in the circle. He looked pleased, until he found your gaze staring at him. 

His smile disappeared as he pursed his lips. “Why are you here?” 

“To learn about you” you replied, “father Vernon.” 

“Hmm. I see” he replied. “If you want to learn about me, you will need to understand why these people come to me to show them the path.” 

“I am all ears, father Vernon. I am here to be taught, to understand” you replied, truthfully, while glancing around and seeing his followers lean against each other, finding each other vicinity, chatting softly.  

“I see, my dear” as his smile returned. “Do you want to immerse yourself in my teachings?” he asked. 

“Yes” you responded immediately. 

“You know what this means?” he asked, as the wind blowed softly, giving the fire a bit more room to grow. 

“Uuuhm” you replied. “Perhaps, perhaps not. Please, do explain, father Vernon” with the smell of the incense infused bonfire hitting your nostrils, spreading through your veins, while the chatter of his people seemed to turn into something softer. But you only paid attention to him, so you failed to see the mood shifting around you. From a light feathery ambiance, transitioning into something more suggestive, more amorous.  

“I believe in liberty. Unencumbered liberty. We believe that through the ingestion of certain medicines we become conscious. We open a spiritual gateway to god through our joint entanglement. This combination will set us free” he bellowed as if he was preaching. At the same time, he spread his arm to your shoulder, as if to exemplify what he meant with entanglement: a physical touch. Human's becoming one. Finding each other. 

“I prepared the food myself, as I do every day for my flock” he said at a normal tone again, extending his other arm as if to embrace his people, only to find his heart. He did not offer you anything, nor did you long for it. 

You finally tore your gaze away from him, following his lead, and saw the people surrounding you finding one and other. Not just embracing, unpacking, cherishing, touching, kissing. You managed to zoom into what was happening, the new sounds now reaching your ears. 

It suddenly dawned on you. This was not just an innocent embrace, this was set to become a full-on psychedelic infused fest. As your mouth nearly dropped open, you heard him start to prepare for yet another rant: “take each other, ravish each other, become one. The lord has always intended that all people in Eden devour each other, regardless of bond and sex. The garden is meant to eat, to live, to enjoy - not to be ashamed and bound. Never did the lord proclaim that enlightened and free people should be shackled. Live, as life was meant to be in paradise. In this paradise we know no sin. Man and woman were both naked and were not ashamed in the holy gardens of Eden. We are made to consume, to unmake, to ruin, to claim, to desire, to take, to worship.” 

Upon hearing those words, the crowd responded: “to unmake is to worship, to take is to glorify.” 

As he continued to evangelize, nearly oblivious to what was happening around his feet, you just sat there and watched the sight unfold. In an atmosphere filled with divine lust, people started to fall on top of each other, help each other undress, bring each other to a state of oblivion. Every now and then united through another chant. Another mantra, solemnly spoken. All, to satisfy their god.  

Their bodies turned to unify into one throbbing thrusting mass, producing obscene yet blessed sounds, under the watchful eye of their father, Father Vernon, who enticed them with his rapid fire, almost speaking in tongues as the night grew older.  

Every now and then he would look at you, benevolently. See how you were still there. He enjoyed your presence, he saw the awe that you had for his work.  

You were not taken aback, or perhaps a bit, but only momentarily. You looked in trance at the marvel unravelling before your eyes, the people that came apart at his mere will. You did not consider to participate – you did not yet know that this would come sooner rather than later. But you allowed the sight to pass straight through you, and the react to the little particles within you, setting a chain-reaction in motion. 

That night, he physically only touched you on your shoulder, and only once. It was sufficient.  

Mentally, he already started to settle you to receive him. 

But you did not know that, not yet. 

“Sleep well. I will see you tomorrow night” he whispered, knowing you would return.  

+++ 

He knew. He knew that you would sleep for many hours, a longer stretch than usual. Breakfast displayed in your room, lunch brought to you on the porch where you sat staring at the never changing landscape.  

You were not sure what you had witnessed yesterday evening. You tried finding more information online, but your cell phone connection was still not working, and wifi was not available.  

So, you needed to rely on your other sources: other guests and your own deduction.  

Other guests remained shadows during the day, fleeting past you without making a sound. You knew you were not alone, yet you only saw servants.  

You did try to find your host, but not with too much urgency. You had two days and two nights still.  

On the porch, looking in the distance, you found solitude you had yearned for. It allowed you to dive deep into your mind. Yet, however you tried to formulate the right questions you needed to research here, you could only think of him. The man that had created this little oasis san sin. The preacher who tried to recreate Eden on the face of earth. The man that started to occupy you, dictate your thoughts. Vernon Jefferson Peak.  

Mesmerizing. He had this glow over him that drew you. Wild yet sophisticated. Dark yet welcoming. Enrapturing yet distant. The man was an enigma.  

What did you know of this man? Why did these people follow him? How did he manage to create this place?  

All legitimate questions, to which you would perhaps find the answer, after yet another lightheaded day. 

A day on which you failed to make any notes. 

+++ 

The second night repeated as the first. You woke up after a long nap, finding darkness broken by torches that set the path. 

A path you followed.  

Again, the person next to him allowed you to sit, the psychedelic laced food was served while he spoke. While he preached. Lecturing on freedom.  

This time, you ate.  

You knew that you ate. Not much, but a bit. You knew what this would mean. It would cause you to shed the line between observer and participant. 

But you decided, after all, you needed to experience the world he was creating here. And that meant following in the steps. 

The ritual of the day before was repeated. People started to undress and find each other.  

And that was when the drugs kicked in. That is when you started to understand. The impact of what Vernon had prepared in his kitchen found path into your brain to shed your inhibitions. You looked from the mass of people to the fire and back, and saw how this was all connected. They were just... recreating the dance of the flames. Recreating how paradise must have been, when all of humanity was still united. They were seeking and finding their salvation through this ancient ritual.  

It suddenly all made sense. You now knew why you felt off before, a feeling that had vanished. 

One follower found Vernon, as he sat in his chair, having finished his second monologue. She kneeled between his legs, and asked: "I am here to worship and receive blessings, father Vernon” while letting down her head. 

She was fully undressed while he was fully clothed, and he responded kindly: “come, my child.” Her signal to move closer and start to massage his thighs and waist, while he moved his pelvis a bit forward to allow her better access. 

As she opened the buttons of his shirt, he allowed himself to relax and look over to you, one hand on her head, while the other reached out to yours. “Observe, my dearest guest, this is what praise of the lord means” nodding at the sight in front of him.  

Soon, his chest and arms were fully bare, showing the ink that covered his body. Pictures that depicted Eden. Beautiful trees, water running, people in happiness. It could have been a fifteen's century Dutch master, recognisant of the style of Jeroen Bosch, were it not that it was covered on his sculpted body and not displayed in a museum. Beneath all of this, the constraints of his loose-fitting pants were starting to show. 

Her hands sought the divine, as she caressed his torso in a gesture of blessing. First with her hands, later with her tongue. 

You just felt, you just knew: ‘this is not what Vernon wants. He wants something else. His need for absolution is somewhere else.’ 

Just that moment, you saw Vernon lose some of his control for the first time. Just the tiniest of growls came from him. You eyes shot to his face, where you saw his smile disappear behind his luscious lips, his jaws clenching, his eyes further darkening. It had the right impact, causing an immediate reaction within her. She fell to her knees to unbutton his trousers, to allow her to unleash his growing length from its holding. This was less ceremonious, as she did not take a lot of time before opening her mouth and welcoming him in. 

You looked at this picture unfolding in front of you without any shame or constraints, your mouth falling open ever so slightly. As if you were readying yourself as well.  

It was a holy sight of a man who clearly received the blessings of his lord. She struggled to wrap herself around his girth and length, and he let her. He looked at you as he spoke: “this is her path. This is her struggle. She needs to earn her place in heaven by becoming a vessel for the sacred intent of god” as he petted her head, complimenting her for her efforts with soft hums.  

His other hand was still resting on your neck as you were still kneeling down: “you are no longer an observer, you are a participant. Disrobe. Take off those foreign threads.” 

A shock waved through you, but you did not protest. You had decided to see more of his world, and that meant following. It was just for one night, so you told yourself. And truth be said, being the only person not fitted in white linen, or now clothed at all, did make you stand out. 

“Yes” you responded, adding softly “father Vernon.” 

“My lamb” he answered pleased with his husky voice, while your clothing softly dropped to the ground. 

With his cock being consecrated and you kneeling next to him with his hand softly around your neck, undressed, he started yet another sermon. But the words did not find you anymore, it was the tone, the sound, the melody that hit you.  

It brought you euphoria. 

It brought them euphoria. 

It finally brought him euphoria. 

And that is when you understood. 

+++ 

On the third day, you woke up with an excruciating headache.  

Scavenging through your bag for pain killers, you found your return ticket, and hold it in your hand. You will be leaving tomorrow. Leave this place. A last day to find the answers you were looking for, to be able to finish your article. 

Again, breakfast has been brought to your room. Lunch served on the porch. 

Gazing over the mountain range, you found yourself, asking: ‘I feel so at ease here. Why is that? Is that not the question to ask?’ 

You could remember in vivid colours, sounds and smells what you witnessed the night before. 

It hit you. You knew. You knew what you needed to do to find the answers. 

That night, you followed the path in flames again, after you awake from your nap. For the first time dressed in the same robes. 

As you entered the ceremony, something was different. You could not identify what it was, as your eyes were drawn to the fire to guide you to your place next to father Vernon.  

No-one was sitting there, the place next to him was already yours. 

“Come, my child” as he pointed at the place next to him. “But don't sit. Today, I have a trial to show if your faith is genuine.” 

You gulped. 

“Have a drink” as he handed you a glass of water. “Fear not.” 

You took a sip. The water had tasted... differently in this place. You blamed it on the local sanitation process. But perhaps, perhaps that was incorrect. 

“The flock is yours. Tell them what you saw” he instructs with a tender yet forceful voice. “Stand in front of the spiritual fire and declare. Lead us tonight.” And on those words, he placed his hand on the small of your back, gently pushing you to take a step forwards, guiding you stand exactly in front of him. 

There you stood. A journalist, a writer, an observer – being observed, being witnessed. Eyes open in anticipation, nobody engaging with each other as all focus was on you. 

What more could you have ever wanted, than such undivided attention for your words? 

You started to speak, softly, but soon rapturing into reverie. 

You spoke, first of pleasantries. Of the nice architecture, the hospitality, the weather. 

His hands soon found you, separated just by fabric. Starting on the top of your buttocks, moving up, slowly, to the small of your back. You thought you felt him ever so softly raise your robe. 

Soon you declared. The kindness you met here. The solemnness. The liberty.  

One hand held the dress up, allowing his other to find the path underneath to the back of your thighs. 

As you proclaimed, he mapped. He mapped every single centimetre of the skin of your upper legs, getting closer and closer to your heat. 

You recited, as the top of hand and thumb graced your folds. 

He whispered: “you are doing well, my good and faithful servant.” 

Soon, your sermon transitioned into your observance of the absence of limitations and inhibitions. 

His fingers rewarded you, pressing into you, sight hidden from the flock. 

You thought you were still making sense, failing to notice that you had started speaking in tongues, all eyes still burned onto you. 

Your arms lifted up to the sky, as you declared. Your response to his machinations. Through his thrusts he handled you as a puppet.  

The end of your homily coincided with the peak he brought you, his long fingers offering you salvation as your eyes were fixed on the fire. 

“Fall” he told you, and you fell, on your hands and knees. Worn. Spent. 

“Brothers and sisters, today we will embrace a new sister in our midst” he declared, as he let himself fall behind you. Folding away your linen, unearthing himself from his own, he took his length, placing it behind you, having the tip wait at your entrance, to entice your anticipation.  

“Followers, find your own way” as he joined your bodies with a fluid motion. The sign they needed as the group slowly but surely erupted into their own oblivion. 

While they met each other, embraced each other, mixed fluids and feelings, you were initiated into this group. This very group, led by the man behind you. 

You knew you did well, as he showed you the stars by thrusting into you with divine intent. 

You knew you found your place, as he allowed you to gain enlightenment through his torch. 

You knew you would not leave, as he blessed you with his holy seed. 

Your exile from humanity was over. You belonged. 

+++ 

Post note: daily sermons for our dearest Austin Vernon, taking naps every day, being fed, living a god alike – I mean... I would follow him... wouldn't you @mrs-hardy-hunnam-butler-pascal @f3ytal @austinbutlerslovers @peageetibbs-ab @houserautha @sandwormrp @thefloatingpickle @arianatheangel-girl @wiseyouthinfluencer @jjubilee-fluff @unicoo @pomtherine @buckysteveloki-me @eternal-love @aust-een @destinymoore05 @nextlevelstupidity @slowsweetlove? Thank you for engaging into my rambles, yesterday and today.

List of Austin inspired one shots

How Vernon Jefferson became Vernon Jefferson Peak

[forsoobado137]

In the Hetalia universe, I feel like nations are kind of seen as tourist attractions/propaganda tools by their governments for foreigners. Their bosses will make them advertise and objectify themselves for tourists (example: Hungary advertising Hungarian spas with sensual pictures). Hungary and other female nations are ESPECIALLY objectified and made to represent their country's "beauty and traditional values".

France's Instagram is full of pictures about national cuisine and tourist destinations. He's often told by his boss to make content that shows off French heritage and leverage his good looks to entice foreigners (Though France definitely takes some liberties). I kind of feel like every nation's bosses see their nation's Instagram as propaganda tools to show the perfect image of their countries.

This is especially true with countries that rely on tourism/get a lot of revenue from tourists. During tourist season, these nations often are told to be on their best behavior, and are encouraged to wear cultural clothing as a way to impress foreigners. Sometimes, they're even told to lean into stereotypes and gimmicks to entertain people.

In turn, a lot of tourists feel entitled to see nations as if they're a public attraction. They take pictures and videos, touch them like a petting zoo, and some even ask nations for inappropriate favors. Basically, they treat them like a Disneyland mascot.

[artist-ellen]

Historical mermay Prompt 8: Meiji Era -> Aztec Mermaid (Tlanchana)

So the last prompt for Historical Mermay was supposed to be Meiji era but.... last year there was a historical Japanese mermaid and a late Victorian mermaid so.... I decided to switch this one out with a different historical mermaid that had been on my list.

Aztec mythology has a mermaid-like figure, which is very exciting for me, but there's a full backstory so strap in for some lore. The origin for Tlanchana isn't Aztec at all, but instead originates from an Otomi goddess called Acpaxapo. Acpaxapo is a benevolent lake goddess who is half woman, half water-serpent. When she was adopted by the Aztecs her aspect evolved to Tlanchana, a much more mysterious and dangerous deity who would drown men with her tail.

I had hoped to make some more references to the original Otomi influence in my illustration but I was having a devil of a time looking for specifically Otomi artifacts (Otomi is technically a collection of languages and is an exonym for the peoples who speak Otomi languages ((if I've even understood what I 'm reading correctly))...and English websites barely cover the big 3) so I eventually pivoted, since I haven't done any siren-like mermaids for this challenge yet and was interested in doing something a little moodier. A description of Tlanchana described her as wearing only jewels and that sparked a lot of creative joy. And looking at all the jade ornaments in pre-colonial jewelry.... I dove right in. I kept a very serpent-like design for her tail, and made all her ornaments in jade... a series of necklaces, her nose jewelry (which I took some creative liberty with after looking at goddess depictions), and ear plugs. I wouldn't say she is accurate, there's a lot of artistic license salt in this stew... but I think she turned out pretty cool.

(And if you just had the thought that this is the most i have written in a description for ages... it's because this one had... new? research. Example: I've drawn redesigns with Ottoman fashion 3+ times, I don't have much new to say for the Ottoman mermaid. I've talked and researched a lot less on Aztec mythology so I had things to say.)

I am the artist! Do not post without permission & credit! Thank you! Come visit me over on: instagram, tiktok or check out my coloring book available now \ („• ֊ •„) /

https://linktr.ee/ellen.artistic

[winnerkirkwood]

[lodgeofeilhart]

[hoshinokaabi-secretsanta]

From: @what-is-love-babey-dont-hurt-me (Instagram)

To: chesgray (Ao3)

Message from Santa: "Surprise!! Happy Secret Santa!

I was very excited when I saw that you were my recipient for this event--I've told you before how much I enjoy your fic 'A Knight Must Be', The worldbuilding mixed with a refreshing and compelling  take on the cast makes it a compelling read, and it's truly a great work! I didn't want to make a comic with super heavy spoilers, and instead I based it off both some of my favorite lines and allusions to my favorite scenes... and a bit of artistic liberty taken for Cool Factor. I sincerely hope you enjoy this :D Happy holidays to you :)"

[herecirmsims]

Wheelbarrow Poses

Happy belated birthday to the wonderful @aheathen-conceivably who's always been super lovely to me, so I was happy to get a chance to help take some of the preparation work needed for an historical scene. I really love the attention to detail in this story! Decades Simmers are on another level 🤯 Pack includes 15 solo workmen poses with a wheelbarrow that could also be used on the farm, in the garden, at the stables, etc.

The wheelbarrow object was originally made by Dorosimfan1 who has deactivated, so I've taken a few liberties: 1) I made a minor mesh edit to raise one of the wheelbarrows into a walking position, because it bugged me that it was being moved while the legs were still on the ground 2) I edited the catalogue details so all 3 barrows are now searchable in BB (just type in 'wheelbarrow' 3) I've included the upright barrow and my edit, which are needed for these poses, and the 'at rest' one for decorative shots

You will need: - Pose Player - Teleport Any Sim - wheelbarrow objects (upright, and my walking edit. Included)

Poses 1-10 need the UPRIGHT WHEELBARROW. Poses 11-15 need the WALKING EDIT. I do not claim credit for the original mesh. The wheelbarrow has two plastic swatches and a metal one!

For transparency's sake: the bow used here is taken from an EA animation and adjusted to suit purposes, because I like that bow. 🤣

Download here (always free): SFS | Patreon

TOU: you may adjust for personal use to avoid clipping etc., but please do not reupload/paywall/claim as your own.

I’d love to see them used! You can tag me on Bluesky, Instagram, or Tumblr. I repost. ❤️

You can easily browse more of my posepacks using my Ko-Fi gallery, or by browsing my collections on Patreon. Want to commission me and help support my work? Details here! Want to leave a suggestion for poses you'd like to see? Form here!

@ts4-poses @alwaysfreecc

[straightline-bow]

I know everyone is mostly joking with the whole ‘oh the GPDA should strike’ thing after their statement in instagram, but I really think we should be having a conversation about how actually, they can’t strike, and that lack of ability to use collective bargaining can be and may be incredibly dangerous.

The issue with the GPDA as a union is that it only covers the twenty current Formula 1 drivers. Now, many people see no issue with this - why would anyone else need coverage? - but this is what sort of hamstrings the GPDA as a union. Should the members go on strike, there would be backlash in the press, pressure on the FIA, FOM, Liberty and the teams - but there are other drivers, who have the super licences needed to drive an F1 car. And could you even blame them? We’ve seen how hard it can be for rookies to get a seat - Colapinto looks a lot like he may be able to get on the grid, either for next year or the year after, and that is a swansong MIRACLE that came out of nowhere for him. Lawson and Piastri had to wait on the sidelines, as did Doohan. The only Driver’s Academies that seem to be working are Ferrari’s (A Leclerc off to WEC, Bearman in Haas), Mercedes’ to an extent (They tossed Aron aside when he’s been doing fantastically, but Antonelli has a seat) and sort of Mclaren’s (Bortoleto was under them in F2, but he has now severed ties to sign for Audi.). And even then they CLEARLY have their failures. Can you truly blame young drivers for taking any and every opportunity handed to them when so few succeed at all?

A strike would be very easily defeated by the FIA and Co - and there would be no guarantee of contracts post strike, and although the WDCs and highest level drivers could probably weather the storm, there is no way the rookies and those from smaller teams would be able to, and they could likely lose their seats over it. Quite frankly, the only way for a strike to work in the drivers favour in this day and age would be for them to vote to include all drivers who have superlicences in the union, and then for all of them to strike together.

A reminder: every driver who has an official contract with a team entered into the F1 championship can apply for a superlicence, if they hold the other requirements (usually a certain number of points plus a driver’s licence pluse a competition licence plus a theory test on first sitting), which means drivers from IndyCar, WEC, lower formulas, Formula E and test drivers are all usually eligible, or can be. I think the official number is around 70ish drivers are eligible, plus any retired F1 drivers who keep up the fitness standard and 100km of practise across a year - so drivers such as Jacques Villneauve could potentially still have a valid superlicence, so long as he proved he did enough practise.

Aside from the sheer unlikelihood of the GPDA being allowed to vote to include all holders of valid superlicences - which could possibly lead to the core members facing severe consequences, possibly the same as striking on their own - there are a lot of drivers who would not strike for safety precautions, purely they don’t think they are necessary (Brundle on the halo) or because they know if they broke the line they could get a drive, and because the GPDA has so little political power it very rarely is able to intercede to set minimum wages etc the way other unions are able to, any drivers breaking the line would know they weren’t losing out on anything but a moral argument, and potential safety issues. Some people don’t think about safety until they need it.

The current state of affairs is just incredibly concerning, and I think that although it’s fun and fine to make jokes about it, we should definitely remember both the driver’s own lack of agency, and that even though some aren’t satisfied with the statement they put out, it is perhaps one of the only things they can do.

[ewanmitchellcrumbs]

Ewan behind the scenes of season two of House of the Dragon. From Clinton Liberty’s Instagram.