#this was almost entirely different in the beginning

[dreamauri]

♪ — 𝗚𝗢𝗟𝗗𝗘𝗡 𝗥𝗘𝗧𝗥𝗜𝗘𝗩𝗘𝗥 oscar piastri x girlfriend! reader (fluff) fic summary . . . Oscar Piastri can't help but gush about his girlfriend in every interview, effortlessly weaving you into his conversations with pride and admiration

( main naster list | more of oscar piastri ) ( requests )

Oscar Piastri had a habit—one that everyone in the paddock noticed almost immediately. He couldn’t stop talking about his girlfriend. And not just in the offhand, casual way people might expect, like a passing mention here or there. No, when Oscar talked about you, it was like flipping a switch. His entire demeanor softened, his eyes lit up, and his words came tumbling out with an earnestness that left no room for doubt: he was absolutely, irrevocably smitten, and he made sure the world knew it.

It started innocently enough during an interview early in his rookie season. The journalist had asked about his study habits for learning new tracks, expecting a typical response about simulator hours or reviewing footage. But Oscar, with that easy grin of his, took a completely different direction. “I mean, I’ve seen how my girlfriend studies for her exams, so this should be pretty easy,” he said with a playful shrug. Then, as if he couldn’t help himself, he added, “She’s top of her class, by the way.” The pride in his voice was palpable, his expression glowing with admiration. The journalist couldn’t help but chuckle, already mentally jotting down notes to find out more about this mysterious academic powerhouse who clearly had Oscar wrapped around her finger.

And that was just the beginning.

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

During a fan stage Q&A, he managed to take things up a notch. A young fan asked how he stays calm under pressure, and Oscar didn’t even need a moment to think. He leaned into the mic, his face lighting up in that boyish, unfiltered way of his. “Oh, that’s easy. The other night, my girlfriend—she’s a top athlete, by the way—was prepping for this big event she had. Watching her manage everything so smoothly kind of puts my little race stress into perspective.”

The crowd’s reaction was immediate: a mix of cheers, laughter, and a collective ‘aww’ that made Oscar’s cheeks flush faintly. He scratched the back of his neck sheepishly, like he hadn’t just melted half the audience’s hearts with a single sentence. The sincerity in his tone was undeniable, and the moment was all the more charming because it was clear Oscar didn’t think he was doing anything out of the ordinary. He was just telling the truth, proud and in awe of you as always.

But even then, he wasn’t done. “Honestly,” he added with a laugh, “if I handled pressure half as well as she does, I’d be unstoppable.” It was a line delivered with such casual reverence that it didn’t just make the fans smile—it left them convinced that Oscar Piastri wasn’t just a rising star in Formula 1; he was also a contender for the title of world’s best boyfriend.

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Then there was the time he was caught on McLaren’s YouTube channel, unabashedly gushing about how much he loved going shopping with you. It started as a casual behind-the-scenes segment—just Oscar and Lando killing time between commitments. But when the topic of hobbies came up, Oscar’s eyes lit up like a kid at Christmas.

“No, seriously,” he began, animatedly waving his hands as Lando looked at him like he’d lost the plot. “She’s got this incredible eye for things. Like, we’ll walk into a store, and she’ll just pick something up and instantly know it’s perfect. I don’t even know how she does it.”

Lando, ever the mischief-maker, raised an eyebrow. “And what’s your contribution to this magical shopping experience?”

Oscar didn’t miss a beat. “I…carry the bags,” he said with a proud grin. “It’s a good system.”

Lando snorted, muttering, “Golden retriever boyfriend,” under his breath, fully expecting Oscar to deny it. But Oscar, in his usual laid-back way, just shrugged and smiled wider. “I mean, if the shoe fits.” The clip went viral almost instantly, with fans agreeing that if there were ever a category for Boyfriend of the Year, Oscar was already a shoo-in.

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Then, there was the time during a press junket when a reporter asked him about his organization skills. The question was meant to highlight how drivers juggle their packed schedules, but Oscar’s response was anything but rehearsed.

He laughed, a warm, self-deprecating sound that filled the room. “Honestly, I would’ve been doomed yesterday if my girlfriend hadn’t reminded me about something I forgot. She’s the organized one in the relationship. I just…drive cars fast and hope for the best.”

The room burst into laughter, a few reporters exchanging amused glances at his candidness. But Oscar just grinned, his expression softening with the unmistakable fondness that always seemed to creep into his voice when he talked about you.

“It’s true,” he added with a shrug, as if it was the most natural thing in the world to openly admit just how much he relied on you. And that was the magic of Oscar Piastri—his genuine, unabashed love for you turned even the simplest of conversations into something that felt warm and unforgettable.

Even in the most casual conversations with fans, you always managed to find your way into the spotlight through Oscar’s words. Like the time a fan brought him a book about racing during an autograph session. He accepted it with a warm smile, flipping through the pages for a moment before looking up. “Oh, my girlfriend loves reading,” he said, almost absentmindedly but with so much fondness it felt deliberate. “She’ll probably finish this before I do and then give me all the highlights. Saves me time.”

The fan giggled, clearly charmed, while the rest of the queue exchanged knowing smiles. It wasn’t just what he said—it was how he said it, like mentioning you was the most natural thing in the world. And for Oscar, it was.

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Then there was the post-race interview after one of his toughest performances. He’d started the race in a dismal qualifying position, clawing his way through the pack to secure points in a way that left commentators breathless. By the time he reached the interview pen, his suit was damp with sweat, and exhaustion painted his features. But even then, the familiar warmth of his smile made an appearance as he approached the mic.

“You know,” he began, his voice still catching its breath but steady, “I think a big part of getting through today was remembering something my girlfriend told me.” His words were met with curious expressions from the reporters, who leaned in just a little closer. “She’s amazing at staying positive no matter what, and she’s always reminding me to focus on what I can control.”

He paused for a second, his gaze drifting toward the camera as if he was speaking directly to you. “So, yeah, this one’s for her.”

The sincerity in his voice left no room for doubt. This wasn’t just an offhand mention or a fleeting thought. You weren’t just his girlfriend in name or title—you were his anchor. The way he spoke of you wasn’t just endearing; it was grounding, a reflection of how much you truly meant to him. 

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

One of the sweetest displays of Oscar’s affection unfolded during a behind-the-scenes McLaren vlog. The team had been filming some candid moments during a break, and the camera panned to Oscar sitting in a corner, scrolling through his phone. His expression was soft, his lips curved into a barely-there smile. Then, as if remembering something, he nudged Lando, who was lounging next to him.

“Oh, look, my girlfriend,” Oscar said, holding up his phone. His voice was tinged with a quiet kind of excitement, like he’d discovered a hidden treasure he couldn’t wait to share. The camera zoomed in just enough to catch the sparkle in his eyes as he looked at the photo. “She sent me this earlier. Isn’t she gorgeous?”

Lando let out an exaggerated groan, flopping dramatically against the couch. “Mate, you’re insufferable,” he muttered, though the amused grin on his face betrayed him. “Do you ever stop?”

“Not when it comes to her,” Oscar replied without missing a beat, his smile growing wider as he looked at the picture one more time before carefully locking his phone.

The clip went viral within hours of the vlog’s release. Fans couldn’t get over how sweet—and utterly smitten—Oscar was. Comments flooded in, praising his open adoration and dubbing him the “ultimate golden retriever boyfriend.”

But for those who knew him, this was just Oscar being himself. No matter where he was or what he was doing, you were always on his mind. And he made sure everyone around him knew just how proud he was to call you his. Whether it was your achievements, your quirks, or simply the way you lit up his life, Oscar never stopped finding ways to weave you into the conversation.

It wasn’t just about the words he said, though. It was the way he said them—with genuine admiration, unwavering pride, and a love so pure it could light up the entire paddock. His tone softened when he spoke about you, his expression grew warmer, and his smile turned just a little brighter.

If Oscar Piastri was the golden retriever boyfriend the world had come to adore, then you were undoubtedly his favorite human, his everything, the one who made all his happiest stories worth telling.

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

The atmosphere was electric at the Yas Marina Circuit, the tension so palpable it could’ve powered the floodlights. It was the last Grand Prix of the season, and everything was on the line for McLaren—the Constructors' Championship title hung in the balance. Among the sea of orange and black, you stood out—not just because you were there to support Oscar Piastri, but because you radiated an energy that seemed to magnetize the young driver to your side.

From the moment you both arrived on Thursday for media day, fans couldn’t help but notice the stark contrast in your personalities. Oscar, always reserved and thoughtful, seemed content to let you take the lead, his quiet confidence complimented by your vibrant presence. When a fan asked how you two had met, you lit up with a mischievous smile.

“I adopted him when we were in school,” you said, glancing fondly at Oscar, who was shyly smiling at the ground. “I guess he just stuck to my side.”

Oscar, standing beside you, squeezed your hand in his as he chuckled. “Well, it’s hard not to stick to you. You kind of pull people in.”

Throughout the weekend, Oscar was a picture of quiet affection. Whether it was holding your hand, wrapping an arm around you, or resting his chin on your head during quieter moments, his touch was constant. Fans caught glimpses of him whispering things to you that made you laugh, your bubbly personality clearly rubbing off on him in the best ways.

When race day arrived, the stakes were high, and Oscar’s nerves were evident. But even after a dramatic first-lap collision with Max Verstappen that caused him to spin out and drop down the grid, you were still cheering for him like he’d just secured pole position.

By the time the checkered flag waved, McLaren had done it—they’d secured the Constructors' Championship. Despite Oscar’s rocky race, you were beaming with pride as he pulled into the pit lane. Seeing your smile waiting for him made every frustration of the day vanish from his mind.

After the podium celebrations for the team, a surprising transformation unfolded. Your extroverted energy seemed to seep into Oscar as if he’d caught your enthusiasm like a contagious laugh. Gone was the usual quiet and composed Oscar. In his place was a driver buzzing with excitement, grinning from ear to ear as he darted around the paddock.

He didn’t just take pictures with the team; he orchestrated them like a director at a photo shoot. “Lando, get over here! And grab that trophy!” he called, dragging his teammate into a chaotic group photo. When Lando least expected it, Oscar grabbed a bottle of leftover champagne and sprayed him without mercy, laughing so hard he had to lean on you for balance.

“You’re ridiculous!” you teased, wiping the champagne splatter off your face.

Oscar grinned wickedly. “Oh, am I now?” Before you could react, he turned the champagne on you, spraying it in a gleeful arc. You squealed, half-laughing, half-shouting as the fizzy liquid soaked your hair and clothes.

“Oscar!”

He set the bottle down and pulled you close, pressing a kiss to your cheek as if that would make up for it. “You look even better drenched in champagne,” he said, his voice warm and teasing. His giggles, boyish and utterly unguarded, filled the space between you.

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t hide your smile as you ruffled his hair. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

The two of you stood there in the middle of the celebration, drenched in champagne and surrounded by the joyous chaos of the team. Oscar looked at you, his face softening. “I couldn’t have done this without you, you know. Even when it’s rough, you make it all worth it.”

You smiled up at him, brushing a stray lock of hair out of his face. “And I’ll always be here, no matter what.”

[agirlinthegalaxy]

Hi! Fellow person with an English degree, along with working for an academic company that has a short college textbook about AI! One of the things that was discussed was hallucinations, which is incorrect information that AI presents as fact. Because the thing is, AI isn't capable of critical thought on its own. It takes in all of this information from the internet, but, as well all know, the Internet isn't inherently a trustworthy source of information and AI isn't capable of actually verifying this information.

One of the ways that we demonstrated this in our textbook is by inputting "Who won the 2022 presidential election?" This was using a previous ChatGPT model, but it actually would answer the question genuinely as if there had been a 2022 presidential election. Another way that I found personally is that I would begin discussing television shows and push it, and without fail, it always began making a lot of errors about obvious plot points and would be unable to keep it straight. Here's an input where I ask for an explanation of the finale of the Charmed (1998) series. (Spoilers for that ahead, but also the show ended nearly twenty years ago, so.)

While a lot of people probably don't know a lot about the show, here's the most relevant part: the entire Ultimate Power section is a complete fabrication because, while they exist, they're distinct characters with a completely different background. (And before anyone says anything, the point isn't about how recognizable the show is, it's about the AI literally makes up false information and presents it as truth when it's very easily disproved.)

Another way of illustrating AI's hallucinations is asking an either/or question, presuming that an event happens. Now, in full transparency, I have not read Dracula since 2021/2022, but I'm about eighty percent sure that this is an example of a hallucination. If not, my apologies, but I'm sure you can find a hallucination if you input it enough similar statements.

Beyond clearly just knowing what is accurate or not, AI also, like the previous OP said, doesn't know what is important. In many classes, when you're discussing some kind of novel, small details will of vital importance whether it about character, plot, or theme of the book. Demonstrated by one of my professors who asked us about the symbolism of the horse that Thomas Sutpen rode into town in the beginning of Absalom, Absalom only to very loudly proclaim that it was between his legs as a phallic symbol, which honestly was probably correct with the author William Faulkner being who he is. Side note, but he was a weird man, and I still don't like his works. If I was a student in that class today, here are the two different shortcuts I could have gotten.

(ChatGPT)

(SparkNotes)

Between the two, even disregarding that SparkNotes' summary is four paragraphs to ChatGPT's three (since the girl in the og Twitter post used three), SparkNotes just provides so much more information and detail. I'd argue that ChatGPT doesn't even summarize it efficiently anyways. So if you're just trying to cheat for class, ChatGPT still isn't a good option.

But I think the worst thing is that the people in the original Twitter convo aren't even reading for class. They're (presumably) reading for enjoyment, which makes it so much more bizarre to me. Because the thing is, and this is a rare one for me to say, you don't... have to read if you don't enjoy it? Once you've left school, very few places (unless you intentionally opt into it or have a very specific job) will make you read novels in your free time. Furthermore, I really can't fathom problems that ChatGPT solves that, say, an audiobook can't? Discussing these two specific instances individually:

If you're wanting to learn more about what Aristotle said in more readable English, baby, he's Aristotle. I can almost guarantee you that there is some kind of book out there, or even something online if you'd like to use the Internet, explaining his philosophy in easier to understand terms. Also with philosophy, I think that "main gist" can be a bit of a trick in of itself because it's designed to make you think critically about these ideas. Sometimes, the "main gist" is even the opposite of what they may seemingly be arguing because they're mocking it.

As for reading a book recommendation by a friend. ... girlie pop, you literally could just not read the book. I've gotten plenty of book recommendations that I've never read and my friends are not insulted at it. If it's a bid for connection, I'd argue that this is more insulting than simply not reading it because if you don't want to invest the time into it, that's fine but this weird shortcut way as if it's beneath your time is... oof. But especially if you want to discuss it, because AI will not include every beat and a lot of a novel is in the way it's written, the pacing or tension, etc. Things that an AI summary can't define out for you to have an actual meaningful conversation. That's something I do when I see a movie that looks halfway interesting but don't care enough to actually sit down and watch it. And even then, I'd never go back to that friend and act like I actually consumed that media; I'd probably just say that it sounds good because I still have not actually truthfully engaged with it!

This is a very long post, but I have a lot of thoughts and feelings about AI, especially in classes, literature, and media in general. Most of them are very negative, but I mean, please don't hand over your critical thinking of what you're consuming to artificial intelligence. Its intelligence is artificial; yours is not.

what is HAPPENING

[shomatoriashi]

01/06/25; 06:03pm

sylus x fem.reader | non.mc

obligatory tags: @voidsylus | @milkandstarlight

warnings: unedited; semi-public s-x.

[ minors don’t interact; by choosing to interact with this content, you have consented to viewing something n-fw despite the warnings. ]

the boutique located in the n109 zone that sylus had taken you to was surrounded by dozens of high class women; those who were born with a silver spoon in their hands. now, being an average woman, you didn’t get to experience the luxuries of such a life until much later (the moment you fell in love with sylus as he swore to give you not only his heart, but anything and everything you desired as well.)

which was why you were here to begin with. even as you browsed the cute trinkets and jewelry from the store, you could feel the clerk’s eyes glaring daggers into you. not only were you receiving dark looks, but all the other employees were actively ignoring you, choosing instead to sink their claws into your lover as their saccharine voice asked if he needed any help.

“no, i’m fine, but my girlfriend could use some assistance.”

you momentarily bask in their crestfallen expression, watching as they tossed aside their curled hair before marching over to you. you had not even spoken a single word when the catty employee leans in to harshly whisper in your ear, “sorry, but i believe these cute jewels are just way too expensive for the likes of you. after all, having you wear our brand would be such a disgrace.”

as swiftly as she came, she stomps away from you, her laughter echoing throughout the store as she went to gossip with her coworkers over what had just transpired. manicured nails point at you, as their hushed whispers openly mocked you as they spoke about how unfit you were to be with mr. sylus.

grateful that sylus was entirely focused on the contents of his phone, you decided to get a tiny bit of revenge by hatching an almost diabolical plan. instead of looking at the various rings and necklaces, you cling onto sylus’s arms and point toward the direction of the section that housed all of the lingeries.

“walk me over there?” you point a finger over at where the various lingeries were on display, watching as sylus’s eyebrows go up in amusement.

“my, i wanted to take you here in order to help treat yourself. i didn’t think that i would receive a treat as well, little dove.”

you tried to appear as innocuous as possible, jutting your lips out into a pretty pout as you pulled sylus along. “but of course, i’m always willing to spoil you, sy.”

with sylus practically following you around (like a lost puppy), you have him talk to the lady manning the fitting rooms, asking him to get a key for one of the rooms as you made your selection alone. giving you a chaste kiss, he obeys your command and leaves you to your own devices-

which was exactly what you wanted to happen.

your eyes scan the various lingeries, searching for the perfect one that would set sylus off-

and within mere minutes, you found one.

the material of the flimsy piece left little to the imagination, and you could just picture the way your perky nipples would strain against such pretty lace while wrapping the most intimate part of you in ribbons-

this is the one.

folding the lingerie, you head towards the fitting rooms, seeing sylus waiting for you as he handed you the key. blowing him a kiss, you sweetly ask him to wait for you before locking yourself into the single room. taking a moment to admire such a spacious area, you muse to yourself at how this place felt like a totally different world before getting to work. putting your purse aside, you hurriedly shimmy out of your clothes, making sure you were bare before sliding on the lingerie, feeling the silk fabric fit your form to perfection. admiring yourself in the mirror, you put on a fresh coat of lip gloss while fixing your hair-

ready for sylus to make his move.

you open the door, standing seductively against it while whispering sylus’s name. he looks away from his phone, meeting your sultry gaze as his eyes widened with shock. crimson irises were felt raking down your form, making you giggle.

“like what you see, sy?”

yet the onychinus leader doesn’t answer you, choosing instead to march into your fitting room while slamming the door shut. “do i like what i see? kitten, you are absolutely divine.” you feel the way his powerful hands wrap around your waist before picking you up, forcing you to wrap your legs around his waist as you felt the way his clothed erection strained against you-

making you break out into a grin when you realized you had him; hook, line, and sinker.

he presses his hot lips press against the base of your throat when he pins you against the wall, ready to slide off your lingerie when you stopped him. “no… i want to keep this pretty lace on, just for you, sy.”

a low growl escapes from sylus, and you felt him lower his large hand between your legs before moving the ribbons that cover your center off to the side. with a gasp, you felt his large finger slowly drive itself into your wet heat before making a pumping motion. “you’re driving me crazy, love.”

hiding his face within the curve of your neck, sylus continues to pump his fingers in and out of you, drawing out breathy moans that seemed to echo throughout the boutique. with your arms wrapped around his neck, you gently grind your cunt against his fingertips while whispering in his ear, “do i feel good, wrapped around your fingers like this?”

a broken groan was heard coming from sylus when he removed his now soaked fingers out of your core, licking them clean briefly before adjusting his hold on you. he presses your chest against the walls now, making you gasp when you heard the shifting of fabric coming from behind you.

even when you weren’t able to see him, you could feel him- the sensation of hot velvet pressing against your soaked cunt before slowly sheathing itself inside of you. your gasps quickly morph into moans when sylus began to pound his cock into you, literally fucking you into the wall.

“i’m so fucking obsessed with you.” his hot whispers were all you could hear, feeling sylus press lingering kisses against your damp skin. you felt each new angle of his cock slamming back into you, causing a new wave of pleasure to hit you each time as your walls eagerly take in every inch he had to offer.

somehow, you were able to find your voice, begging him to turn you around. “l-let me look at you, sy… i want to see you as i fall apart for you.”

a low hiss was heard as sylus bites down against the lobe of your ear, heeding your command when he hurriedly pulls out of you. the sudden loss of him causes you to sob in response, with sylus gripping at your waist before allowing your back to meet the wall once more. settling himself between your thighs, sylus doesn’t waste another second when he completely impales his cock back into you.

your legs wrapped themselves around his waist, coaxing your lover to go even deeper as you felt your breasts bounce with his every movement. not even caring that you were not alone while in the midst of this expensive boutique, you allow your moans and his grunts to echo throughout the space, your back arching when you felt the way your walls sweetly wrapped around sylus’s cock before milking him for all he was worth.

spurts of his seed were felt escaping your walls as they stained at the lace and ribbons of the lingerie, with sylus letting out a content grunt. his hips sloppily thrust into you, making sure he was completely emptied before resting his weight against your shoulder. by now, you were both panting, feeling the sweat run down your respective forms as sylus pressed a lingering kiss against your shoulder.

keeping your hips still, sylus gently pulls out of you, and you moan when you felt the evidence of your respective release further stain the lingerie. sylus takes a step back, admiring how he had completely wrecked you and the flimsy fabric with an appreciative hum. as he adjusts himself (placing his softened cock back into the confines of his boxers), you watch as he zips up his pants before gathering your crumpled clothes from the ground.

not even allowing you to remove the utterly ruined lingerie, sylus helps you put on your clothes while pocketing your panties. once your blouse was on, you watch as sylus shoves your bra into the confines of your purse, hands automatically going around your waist as he presses a lingering kiss on your temple.

“keep that purchase on you; i’ll pay for it as we walk out- i’m far from being done with you, kitten.”

unlocking the door to the fitting room, sylus grabs the key and his wallet, coming face to face with a now blushing woman that had a wide eyed gaze. he tosses a few bills at her as payment for your latest purchase all while giving your backside a firm smack!

as you both walk out of the boutique, you basked in everyone’s shocked expression (red face and all!) while showing them your own, victorious smile-

having the leader of onychinus as your lover meant that you would always have free reign to do whatever you wished to do (since everyone feared him and would never wish to go against him), and even if you weren’t born with the world given to you on a silver platter-

sylus was all too willing to fix that and make it a reality for you.

end notes: so i had a n a u g h t y daydream earlier and decided to make it a r e a l i t y… (⺣◡⺣)♡

all stories are written by rei; please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works!!

[kingkaizen]

Hellur, saw your post about bllk and I enjoyed it LOL, I was wondering if you could do a fluff one for Sae about how he'd plan his proposal to his beloved?? You can add the same characters you did on your first post!! Teehee

∘ a/n: im so happy that you enjoyed my writing <3 thank you for this adorable request hun! i only included 3 of the boys so ofc lmk if you'd like me to write these for some of the others too!

∘ ft: sae, barou, + karasu

∘ includes: proposals <3

Sae Itoshi

➳ when it comes to proposals, sae isnt one for huge romantic gestures

➳ he believes that matters like this should be intimate, something for just the two of you to witness

➳ sae would choose a setting that would be deeply meaningful to your relationship, making the entire proposal that much more special

...

The sun was beginning to dip below the horizon, painting the sky in hues of orange, pink, and purple. The beach was quiet, besides the rhythmic crashing of the waves against the shore. Sae had insisted on taking you here, a place that had always been special to the two of you. It was actually the place where you both said ‘I love you’ for the first time, and a place where countless evenings have been spent with just one another. 

Tonight felt different, though. Sae had been quieter than usual—not unusual for him, but there was a nervous energy about him that you couldn’t quite place. As you walked along the shoreline, your feet sinking slightly into the cool, damp sand, Sae suddenly stopped. His hand, warm and steady, gently tugged at yours to make you face him.

“You know,” he began, his voice softer than the breeze, “I don’t say this enough, but you’ve changed my life in ways that I can’t begin to express.” His aquamarine eyes, always so sharp and calculating, were unusually tender as they met yours. He reached into his pocket, and your heart skipped when he pulled out a small velvet box.

“I’m not good with words, and I’ve never been great at showing how I feel. But you…” He paused, taking a deep breath as his mind raced. “You make me want to be better. For you, for us, and our future.” Sae dropped to one knee, the damp sand clinging to his jeans, but he didn’t seem to care. He opened the box, revealing a simple yet elegant ring, the kind of understated beauty that matched his taste—and yours.

“Will you marry me?” he asked, his voice steady but low, as if the weight of his emotions were grounding him. “Be with me, always.” The world seemed to fade away, leaving only the sound of your heartbeat and the sincerity in his eyes. The setting sun cast a warm glow around him, and for a moment, he looked almost ethereal.

Your answer came easily, your voice catching with emotion as you nodded, a bright smile spreading across your face. “Yes, Sae. Always.” He wasn’t one to show too much emotion, despite the years that you’ve known him. So, seeing his walls come completely down for you in this moment was something that tugged at your heart.

Relief washed over his face, and a rare, genuine smile tugged at his lips as he slipped the ring onto your finger. Standing, he pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly as the waves lapped at your feet.

And just like that, Sae Itoshi’s heart, once so guarded, was now entirely yours.

Shoei Barou

➳ barou would definitely want a proposal that is a bit over the top, something that truly matches the vibes of your relationship

➳ nothing he ever does is half-assed, and that’s exactly his mindset going into the planning of it all

➳ he would take you somewhere beautiful and away from home to give you the ultimate experience

...

The evening air was warm, carrying the faint scent of tropical flowers and saltwater. Barou had brought you to an island paradise, a destination that took your breath away the moment you arrived. The resort he chose was as grand as you’d expect from him��luxurious villas, infinity pools, and views that stretched endlessly over turquoise waters. But tonight, Barou had completely outdone himself.

He insisted you dress up for dinner, though he refused to say why. As the sun began to set, a private car picked you up, driving through winding coastal roads until it stopped at a secluded cliffside overlooking the ocean. A pathway lined with lanterns and petals led you to a table for two, illuminated by string lights hanging above. The view was spectacular—stars just beginning to sparkle in the darkening sky, the ocean glowing softly with the last light of the sun.

Barou was already there, waiting for you, dressed sharply in a dark suit that made him look every bit the king he always claimed to be. He didn’t say much, but the way he glanced at you, his usually intense eyes softening, made your heart race. Dinner was amazing, but you could sense he was distracted. He barely touched his food, and his fingers occasionally drummed on the table. It wasn’t like him to look so nervous and out of it.Then, as dessert was served, he stood abruptly, his chair scraping against the wooden platform, startling you a bit.

“Come here,” he said, his voice low and commanding, as he offered you his hand.

You followed him to the edge of the cliff, where the ocean stretched endlessly before you. The sound of waves crashing against the rocks filled the air, a dramatic symphony that mirrored the tension building in your chest. Barou turned to face you, his expression unreadable at first. But then, he reached into his pocket, pulling out a small velvet box.

“You know me,” he began, his voice rough but steady. “I don’t like to share what’s mine. And you… you’re the only one who matters to me.” His crimson eyes locked onto yours, and for a moment, the fierce intensity in them made your knees weak. He dropped to one knee, his large frame somehow looking vulnerable against the vast backdrop of the ocean. Opening the box, he revealed a dazzling ring—a bold design, just like him, but beautiful in a way that made your breath hitch.

“I don’t do things halfway,” he said, his voice softer now but no less firm. “I want you by my side—forever. Be mine, please.”

The words were straightforward, even blunt, but you could hear the raw emotion laced beneath them. This was Barou—unapologetically himself, but giving you all of him at this moment.

Your eyes filled with tears as you nodded, your voice barely above a whisper. “Yes. Of course, yes.”

A rare smile broke across his face, fleeting but genuine. He stood, sliding the ring onto your finger, and pulled you into his arms with a strength that left no doubt you were his world. As the waves roared below and the stars lit up the night sky, Barou kissed you, a promise sealed in the most perfect moment.

Karasu Tabito

➳ karasu’s proposal would be one that is both well thought out yet playful

➳ his proposal would be more on the creative side, almost making it some type of game 

➳ he would set it up to be like a mini treasure hunt where the prize is something that you were not expecting

...

The day started like any other adventure with Karasu – spontaneous, lively, and full of surprises. He handed you a small, hand-drawn map over breakfast, his signature playful grin lighting up his face.

“Today’s mission,” he said dramatically, “is to find the greatest treasure in the world. And no, it’s not me, though I know I’m a close second.” You rolled your eyes at his antics, but your heart fluttered with excitement. The map was detailed yet vague, with landmarks you recognized scattered across the city including the movie theater that has seen many of your dates, the park where you had your first picnic, and many more.

Each stop held a small clue — sometimes a riddle, sometimes a quirky message written in his bold handwriting. At the café, a barista handed you a folded note: "You’ve made it this far, adventurer. But can you find where our journey truly began? Hint: The world’s greatest hot chocolate awaits you."

Your heart raced as you pieced together the clues, each one leading you closer to a final destination that Karasu refused to reveal. His energy was infectious, and you couldn’t help but laugh at his over-the-top commentary every step of the way. Finally, the map led you to the park, where a secluded gazebo sat adorned with fairy lights and flowers. The setting sun bathed everything in a golden glow, and your breath caught at the sight. Karasu was already there, standing in the center with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes.

“Congratulations!” he called, throwing his arms wide. “You’ve solved the mystery and found the treasure!”

You laughed, walking toward him. “So, what is it? Jewelry? Hopefully some food?”

He chuckled, pulling a small, intricately decorated chest from behind his back. “The real treasure is in here,” he said, his voice softer now. When he opened it, your heart stopped. Inside was a ring, a stunning piece that sparkled like the stars starting to appear in the sky.

Karasu dropped to one knee, his usual cocky demeanor giving way to something raw and genuine. “The greatest treasure isn’t in a chest or on a map,” he said, looking up at you. “It’s you. You’re my greatest adventure, my best friend, and the only person I want to annoy for the rest of my life.”

He grinned, but his voice cracked slightly as he asked, “So, will you marry me? Be my partner in crime forever?”

Tears welled in your eyes as you nodded, barely able to get the words out. “Yes! Of course, yes!”

Karasu jumped to his feet, sweeping you into his arms and spinning you around, his laughter ringing out like music. “I knew you’d say yes! Who could resist me?” he teased, though the sheer joy on his face betrayed his bravado.

As the lights twinkled around you and the stars shone overhead, you realized that life with Karasu would always be full of laughter, surprises, and love.

© kingkaizen | do not copy, steal, or duplicate!

[blackknight-kai]

Sun Wukong Height:

Here’s my PERSONAL take on Monkey King Height for some universes. I was going to wait for the figures for BMW to be released but they take FOREVER. And we were talking about it in my server so here goes!

****GAME SPOILERS BELOW****

(IN FEET.INCHES)

BMW is decently tall - 5.8-5.11 - genuinely appears about average human height in the game.

JTTW Shorter depending 3-4ft ish give or take (I think pretty short though)

Monkey King Reborn - Shortish 5-5.5 he is almost average person height I think here as Master is fairly tall (almost as tall as Wujing) & Comparing Wujing next to a village human then Wujing next to Wukong, Wukong give or take is the same height as a human. Also, Pigsy is just shy of Masters height and Wukong is almost the same height as Pigsy but a liiiittle but shorter. (This was annoying because both Wukong and Pigsy slouch almost the entire movie and there are a LOT of angles and visual trickery with background and foreground stuff. I even tried comparing to doors but it’s inconsistent.)

Nezha Reborn - Tall 5.8-5.11

I think PERSONALLY, he’d be tall in BMW specially. I know in JTTW he’s fairly small - they saw him more as a monkey at the time right? So somewhere between an actual monkey and probably short adult human 3-4ft something? Where as modern times we see him as “anthropomorphic” but human leaning. So it makes sense for us to scale him up and change some features. He is a “demon” after all as well. *Plus I’m bias on the idea that I want him at least human sized - idc if he’s a short king or a tall king necessarily.*

ANYWAY! *see under the cut*

In BMW we see at the beginning Wukong is shorter than Erlang (not as big of a difference during cut scenes though) during the first fight of the game, but in some clips I was watching recently (modded game lol) the Broken Shell of Wukong stands at the same height ish as Erlang. So while I was already fairly certain this was a “design” choice by the devs to make it easier to see the broken shell when you fight him, this confirms it for me too. Broken shell is MUCH taller than DO during the battle.

When in cut scenes during that fight they are the same height, build, etc:

Basically what I was getting at is this, it’s clear bosses are scaled up in the game to make them easier to see as well as make them more intimidating to the player (which I think is pretty universally understood). So in a way, it’s deceptive of actual height. Untrustworthy.

So, let’s factor this instead: Wukong is an anthropomorphic monkey. Let’s say he’s between 5’ and 5’11 give or take to give him some wiggle room.

Erlang, isn’t a regular “human” by any means so him being taller than average makes sense. The other demons? Same thing. Especially creatures that are actually bigger than a monkey - like a tiger. Some other creatures we see SHOULDNT be that big though. For example insect demons. Yet they are when they should be smaller than Wukong if you’re going by “scale up based on a specific average”.

So again, deception. Height doesn’t follow natural normal rules for everyone (magic). Yes sizes can change based on certain lore & magic things and Wukong can adjust his size as to be bigger or smaller.

I don’t think Wukong is super tall or anything by any means though, that’s why I said give or take in the “head canon” estimate earlier. He’s basically a compact power house - think like how ants can lift 10-50 times their body weight. He’s agile and lithe with muscles designed to be swift and quick, he’s a monkey so he’s all energetic. Hes not meant to be a body builder (like some *Tiger 👀*……YES he is strong as fuck - this isn’t about his abilities. *Also I’m not saying any of you dudes that aren’t 6ft aren’t ‘tall’ but I’m 5.5 and “tall” to me is 6ft and up.*

Anyway, I’m getting at that Destined One is a near carbon copy of Wukong and no matter how you SEE the ending of BMW be it DO just gains Wukongs memory or Wukong is made whole again and absorbs DO and takes his memories of his short life/journey for the artifacts - the two Monkeys are the same height.

So Monkey is fairly tall also based on in game things like surroundings etc. Hes not tiny. The game devs have deceived us throughout the game regarding height in several ways since it’s not consistent.

(Funny side note, if you add an inch or two to DO and feel they are separate beings - Wukong being offended by that would kill me with laughter and be hilarious - or if they are the same and Wukong realizes it after he “awakens”)

So basically, imagine him as tall as you want 🤣 I HC as mentioned above give or take for a specific AU I make. No joke depending on what AU I have I make him as tall or short as I need. So no one is wrong, okay?

Last note: this is before figures come out (yes there was the one but idk its actual metrics and while it can help to figure out size it won’t necessarily be an end game as everything surrounding bmw and height is genuinely inconsistent as hell.

[b-skarsgard]

https://parade.com/movies/bill-skarsgard-nosferatu-interview-exclusive

Skarsgård's vampiric transformation does make him virtually unrecognizable. Combining full-body prosthetics and elaborate costumes, the actor built the character with Eggers over a 10-year period, even working with an operatic vocal coach on a completely new voice. If you're able to spot Skarsgård in the film, hats off to you.

Of course crafting a new version of Dracula/Orlok was certainly a momentous task. Skarsgård's been told there were already over "170 different adaptations" of the character prior to his own. He's humbly giving much of the credit for his own transformation to Eggers' screenplay, though.

full article at the link and under the cut

"I read Robert's Nosferatu script almost 10 years ago, and it hasn't changed all that much in those 10 years," he says. "So the version of Dracula was already different on the page."

Step one in the transformation was the voice. "I was really enamored by Orlok's language," Skarsgård says of Eggers' script. "He's technically speaking German in the movie, but it's English. I think he's learned German just from reading all of these texts and old books. It's this awkwardly constructed English that came out of that."

Orlok's voice was especially important in this film as the character spends much of the film hiding in the shadows to keep his true form hidden from Thomas Hutter (Nicholas Hoult). "The movie monster tends to not have much dialogue, but in this case he has a lot," Skarsgård reflects. "So the voice became my way of expressing the character."

The deep gravely voice in the film was the product of acclaimed Icelandic opera singer Ásgerður Júníusdóttir. "We explored the voice together, but also the technicality of using your entire body when you speak and placing the voice as low as you can in your body," Skarsgård says. "It's a new world for me, and I love voice work. I was just absorbing all of these tools that I'm going to use as my career progresses."

Layered on top of the vocal work were Linda Muir's costumes, what Skarsgård describes as "historically accurate costumes that a 16th-century Hungarian nobleman would have worn. They're the clothes he would have worn when he was a man."

While Focus Features is keeping Orlok's appearance under wraps for as long as possible, you can see the massive fur coat Skarsgård donned in the shadowy poster.

"I knew the shadow was going to be an ally for Orlok, especially in the scenes with Thomas, where he's hiding his appearance," he says. "So he lives in the shadow, and he uses his big fur cape and the hat to not give away what he is. The shadow became a friend."

Perhaps the most impressive element of Skarsgård's transformation, however, was David White's prosthetic makeup, which took hours to apply each day, was difficult to act through and painful to wear. When I ask if he was able to cheat on days he was in the shadows, Skarsgård says no with one exception: "Every single shadow in this movie is also me puppeteering behind camera. That was the only time where I didn't need to have the full regalia on.

"The full prosthetics would take six hours to apply. "It's just uncomfortable," Skarsgård says of having to sit in the chair that long. "And any sense of privacy goes out the window. You become very close with the team that's applying this makeup. They're really getting up in there with a brush in your ass crack. They become your little safe space."

And the six-hour application process was just the beginning of what could be long, physical days on set. The film's final moments involve a sex scene between Orlok and Lily-Rose Depp's Ellen Hutter, which Skarsgård performed in head-to-toe prosthetics.

"I don't know her perspective on, 'I'm going to kiss this monster,'" Skarsgård says about his (fully clothed? skinned? suited?) sex scene, "But for me, when we shot, I was Orlok, and I really, really, really wanted to devour her."

If performing a sex scene in a hot latex bodysuit sounds miserable, that's because it was. "The actual final moment of Orlok was incredibly physically exhausting because there was a lot of technical camera work," Skarsgård says. "What's in the movie, I had to do that 30 times." If you've seen the film, you'll know how truly arduous that experience must have been.

The most difficult day on set for Skarsgård, however, involved a sequence filmed on a boat during Orlok's transfer from his castle in Transylvania to the German harbor he plans to terrorize next. In one scene that involved "pretty tricky advanced camera work," a seaman descends into the hull of the ship to "rid the boat of this demon." As the camera follows the sailor, Skarsgård's Orlok is initially seen behind the man in the shadows.

"Then I have to exit frame, run around and enter my position for when the jump scare pans down to the rats and then pans up and I'm standing there," Skarsgård remembers. "So it's very physical, but I was covered head to toe, except for my eyeballs and the soles of my feet. Even my palms and my hands are covered. That was a 12-hour day."

With that many prosthetics on, there's nowhere for all that sweat to go. "It doesn't breathe, and I don't think it's healthy," Skarsgård confides. "Your body's probably absorbing all those f--king toxins and glue and sh--, plastic and latex and whatever."

During the 12 hours running around the hull of a ship, Skarsgård remembers thinking, "I don't know what's happening, but my body is not doing well."

"You know the skin is your biggest organ right," he says. "So it needs to breathe. I got flashbacks from that urban legend about the woman in Goldfinger being covered in gold and actually dying. I'm like, 'Okay, this is how I go.'"

Obviously, Skarsgård did not die of heat exhaustion in a latex Dracula suit like that one cameraman in the 2022 film Babylon.

"At that point I told them—because it was a long day and I was waiting around—'We need to open it up so my body can breathe,' and then they found the pockets where I could open up and my body started to breathe."

Skarsgård compares the agony of the shoot with what he thinks childbirth would feel like. "They're not on the same level, of course. I've seen childbirth, but it's as close as I can get to giving birth as a man, as these f--king monsters I'm portraying," he says.

When I ask him if there were any other iconic monsters on his bucket list, he says he's done for now. "To play Orlok in Robert Eggers' Nosferatu is the holy grail," he says. "It's kind of the peak and, in a way, the nail in the coffin."

[legalmente-loca]

Innocence

Pairing: Sam Winchester x Angel!Reader

Summary: Sam found something good and innocent in his dark life... Now he wants to destroy it, but not in a bad way.

Word Count: 2,327

Tags/Warnings: 18+, smut, fingering, dirty talk, established relationship, corrupción kink

Innocent, cute, tender, angelic…

That was you. An angel, not just as a personality, but a real angel. But you weren't a warrior or a soldier. You were an angel who existed to entertain others with your harp. Your melodious music that inspired every other angel to fight for their father and brothers and sisters.

Sam met you along with Castiel. It was noticeable that you didn't even know why you were there. This wasn't your job. Fighting. That was your brothers and sisters. When he first saw you, he almost melted from your beauty. Your tender confused look and your pity when Castiel called him what he called him. You were sweet, more than the other angels. You were always on his side and even played him some of your music. Dean expressed that you were like he had imagined angels to be, the typical stereotype of them; Sweet, fair, playing their music and with an invisible heavenly halo surrounding them.

So… Why did he want to ruin you so badly?

Sam thought that would be a more thing from his brother. Flirting with you at every opportunity to get you into his bed and show you how a human could ruin something as beautiful and innocent as you. But to his surprise, Dean showed no interest in you. And that was because he noticed his little brother's attraction to the sweet angel. If anyone were to ask Dean about it, he would say that after a life full of pain and suffering, a life like his little brother's, finding something as beautiful and innocent would be the same as wanting to destroy it.

When Sam started flirting with you, your shy look and your small smile, he just knew he had to have you. Have you in a way that he knew no one had ever had you before.

You started dating and every kiss was better than the last. You didn’t really know how to give them, but don’t worry, he would gladly teach you.

You two were lying on your side on the couch watching a movie. A blanket covered the two of you and he was behind you, his thumb caressing your hip where your cute shirt had ridden up a little, touching your skin. Your gaze rested on the TV and he looked over at you with a smile. You looked so cute, your concentration on the movie, your breathing calm, almost like you were asleep. Sam couldn’t help but slowly move his hand up, tucking it under your shirt.

The small gasp you let out caused Sam’s pants to get tighter. Your eyes looked down at his hand before raising it to him.

“What are you doing?” Your small voice came through, looking at him in confusion.

“Jus’ touching you, love.” He murmured, placing a kiss on your hair. “You know how much I love the feel of your skin.”

“Oh…” Your small nod made Sam’s chest sink.

He continued to run his hand over your skin until it spread across your entire stomach. Sam had big, strong hands. Sometimes you watched them and ran your small fingers over them. And this time was no different. You ran your fingers over his hand, feeling every vein, up his arm and jaw. You looked into his eyes and lowered your gaze to his lips. Sam knew you would never initiate a kiss, you never did. So he was the one who leaned in and kissed you softly.

You followed the kiss, your hand caressing his cheek. Sam couldn't believe how soft your lips were, how red he could make them. He ran the tip of his tongue over them and you parted them, his tongue taking advantage and invading your mouth. The movie was beginning to fade away, just a background noise that filled the air. His hand on your stomach continued to rise and stopped below one of your breasts. He had never touched you beyond that, your shyness never allowed it.

A moan escaped you as he nibbled on your bottom lip and pulled away from the kiss, your mouths connected by a thread of saliva.

“Oh, baby, you can’t make sounds like that…” He ran his finger along your bottom lip. “And expect me not to react.”

You placed a kiss on his finger as you continued to look into his eyes. You moved your hand down his chest and he squeezed his eyes shut.

“Baby…”

“What?”

“Don’t do that.”

“Why?”

Sam opened his eyes again and placed a kiss on the tip of your nose.

“Because I can’t control how my body reacts.”

And then you felt it. His bulge against the back of your thigh, almost your ass. He was firm against you.

“Oh…” That little word again coming out of your mouth. “So… What if… I do want to continue?” You looked away as you asked that question.

Sam was afraid you’d notice how his face lit up at your words. To give him that kind of permission, a permission he would use deeply, as deep as he wanted to be inside you.

He moved his hand to your chin, bringing your gaze back to his.

“Only if you want, baby.”

“Yes… I do.”

Sam suppressed a smile and instead kissed you again, the softness of the beginning rising in tone.

“Stop me anytime if you want.” He murmured against your lips before crushing them against yours again.

You moaned lowly into his mouth, Sam swallowing every sound. He felt like you were taking him to heaven itself. That you had held him tight and lifted him up to where you lived, But to do the most incorrect things, more appropriate for hell than heaven..

Sam continued kissing you and moved his hand up to your breast. You weren’t wearing a bra, you’d never done it in heaven, why would you do it on earth? He could feel your softness from the start and let out a growl, separating his mouth from yours.

“You’re so beautiful.”

He lifted your shirt up just enough to uncover your breasts. They were soft, perfect, and he wanted to bite them until they were red and had teeth marks on them. He leaned over your chest and took one breast into his mouth, licking and nibbling at your skin. The small sounds that came out of your mouth were like a melodious tune to his ears.

He nibbled on your nub and took it between his teeth, tugging on it lightly, causing you to let out a gasp and bring a hand to his hair.

“So pretty…” He murmured, letting go of your breast and moving to the other.

You moaned and gently tugged on his hair, Sam letting out a groan and leaving your breast red and with teeth marks, just like he wanted.

“I’m sorry…” You whispered.

He smiled and shook his head, caressing your cheek with a finger.

“Don’t worry, sweetie. I like it.”

He moved you so you were fully lying down and finished removing your shirt.

“God, you’re an angel.” He looked at you adoringly, touching your stomach and lightly running his nails along them, leaving a red trail. “You can touch me too.”

He took off his shirt, tossing it somewhere in the room. He took your hand and placed a kiss on it before resting it against his chest. Your shy gaze ran over his bare chest and your fingers trembled.

“You don’t have to be afraid.” He said as he noticed your shaking hand.

“I don’t feel afraid, just… Something an angel shouldn’t feel.”

“It’s okay, darlin’. I’ll teach you everything you need to know.”

He made a path with your hand, going down to the bulge in his jeans. You held your breath without realizing it and gave a small squeeze. Sam smiled and nodded.

“C’mon, be a good pretty angel and get rid of my pants.” You gave a small nod and undid his belt before unbuttoning his jeans and unzipping them. “That’s it, pretty angel.”

He lifted his hips so you could pull his jeans down. You left them bunched up at his ankles and laid back down. Sam was left in just his boxers and licked his lips.

“Good girl.” He caressed your cheek and positioned himself on top of you completely. “Now, I’m going to take off your pants, got it?”

“Yes…”

“Good, you’re doing great.”

He pulled down your white shorts with cherries on them. You were wearing cotton panties with a cute red bow and Sam let out a sigh, dying to destroy you right there. You looked at him, waiting for any reaction from him, any words. But Sam stayed quiet, sitting on your legs and running a finger over your panties. You bit your bottom lip and your hips reacted on their own, giving a little jump and being rewarded with Sam’s laughter.

“You’re so receptive, angel.” He slipped his fingers inside your panties and pulled them down. “God…” Your breathing became quicker and you gripped the couch beneath you. “Don’t worry, baby… I’ll take care of you.”

He pulled his boxers down to where his pants were and your eyes widened in surprise at the sight of him, standing tall and wet at the tip. He touched your bundle of nerves with his thumb and rubbed it gently. He longed to hear those cute sounds leave your mouth. He pushed a single finger in and you squeezed your eyes shut.

“Hey, hey, no, open your eyes.” He clicked his tongue and rubbed his nose against yours. “I want to see those cute little eyes of yours.” You opened your eyes again, your brow furrowed slightly as you looked up at him. “Atta girl.”

He continued to push his finger in up to the knuckle and caressed that spongy part inside.

“Oh, my Father-” You gasped.

“I don’t think this is a good time to say his name, beautiful.” He smiled and kissed you.

His tongue swirled with yours, a dance. He began to slowly move his finger from the outside in as he swallowed all your moans. More juice was pouring out of you and he couldn’t take it anymore. His cock ached, desperate to be inside you right now. He pulled away from your mouth and pulled his finger out of you, taking it into his mouth and moaning at the taste of you. You looked at him in awe, your big eyes watching his dirty action worthy of a trip to hell.

“I need to be inside you right now.”

He lined himself up with your entrance and looked at you, thinking that maybe you had changed your mind and wanted him to stop. But you just nodded. With permission given, he began to push his big cock against your entrance and your hands gripped his arms tightly.

“That’s it, sweet angel, you’re doing so well.”

“Sam...” You whimpered, your beautiful eyes trying to take in your bodies connected.

“There you go, baby,” He said as he pushed further into you. “Not long now.”

He gave one last push and you moaned. It was like quickly pulling a band-aid off a wound. He stayed still for a few seconds as he cupped your face and kissed you. He moved slowly, his cock sliding in and out of your little hole. All the while you moaned and dug your nails into his skin. There was no pain, only pleasure. A pleasure that slowly invaded your entire body.

“My angel... You’re doing so well. Taking me so good.” He continued to move his hips against your ass. “God, you’re so perfect.”

He placed one last deep kiss on your lips and pulled out of you. You whimpered in disapproval at the feeling of emptiness and Sam laughed as he took you by the arms.

“Don’t worry, baby. I’ll be inside you in no time.” He flipped you over, placing you on your knees to your chest, your head on the couch. “I’m going to destroy you.” He said against your ear before he entered you again.

Thrust after thrust, Sam brought you closer and closer to your long-awaited orgasm, something you had never experienced before. His strong, large hands held you by the arms and saliva leaked from between your lips and spilled onto the couch. But that wasn’t the only thing that was spilling out. Your juices lubricated his entire cock, making it easier for him to slide into your pussy, which convulsed around him.

“I can feel you’re close already.” He reached a hand into your hair and gave it a tug, earning a mewl from you. “My beautiful angel… I’m your first and I promise I’ll be your last.”

Your ass was already red from the blows of his pelvis.

“Sam, I-I feel… I-I feel…”

“Shhh, it’s okay, baby. Let it happen.”

Your vision darkened as you felt the pleasure hit your body. Your eyes rolled back and you tightened around him. You couldn’t say a word. Sam's movements didn't stop, determined to destroy you and finish inside you. White flooded you and you swore you could see your father at that very moment.

Your tired body stilled and Sam turned you around.

“How do you feel, beautiful?” He asked as he placed a kiss on the corner of your lips.

“As if...” You tried to speak. “As if the bliss of God was washing over me...”

Sam smiled and shook his head in amusement.

“Well, I feel honored.” He wrapped his arm around you and placed a kiss on your hair. “You were perfect, baby.”

He placed a blanket over both of you and didn’t pull out of you. He wouldn’t do that for the world. He was just beginning to show you the different things lust could take one to. And he wouldn’t stop showing you until your angel innocence was tainted by his demon actions.

Sam Winchester One Shots

Sam Winchester Masterlist

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[hawkinshistoricalsociety]

I've been mulling this over too and am currently at a few possible scenarios. Agreed that it seems pretty likely to me that Erica is doing dinner with the Turnbows as a distraction, as part of the "Turnbow Trap." She isn't necessarily alone as the ruse, because almost our entire "Extended Party" ends up at the mansion that night (I'm thinking at least Lucas joins her, but that's not really based on anything that indicative). And the mansion stuff is basically confirmed for ep 3, after which there's probably a kind of disastrous return to the Radio Station where the military and maybe supernatural attack that probably bridges ep 3/ep 4, and then we split into our midseason groups in early ep 4 with Joyce, Robin, Will, Mike, Robin, Derek, Erica, and probably Karen and Lucas going to the farm.

So what is our team's goal with the "Turnbow Trap"?

The McCorkle Farm was an access point to the tunnel system in s2. We've glimpsed the tunnels in a few different BTS contexts now, and that at one point Robin and Mike (probably working with others from their midseason group) are using the tunnels to get into the downtown Hawkins military barracks. Mike is walking around the farm with a shovel. It's not a huge leap to think they want onto the farm to get access to the tunnels, maybe as part of a "[Dungeon] Crawl" plan proposed at the group meeting in ep 1 (I'm not a DnD expert but dungeon crawls seem to involve tunnels/mazes, often underground). (The Farm is also where Steve, Dustin, Nancy, and Jonathan enter the UD in the beginning of ep 4, and their car seems mostly prepared for an UD mission so the full group may also know it contains a gate/rift/whatever the new vogue type of UD entrypoint is this season) Random anon leaks that I wouldn't usually trust but have been corroborated in other ways since they showed up say the Turnbows (who own a "Land Development and Realty" company, per the billboard in the UD posted by Ross to Instagram) own the Farm. Do our protagonists need something from the Turnbow home to get access to the McCorkle Farm? (what this would be, I currently have no idea. It's a big property they've just driven up to in the past, so you'd think that would still be an option. maybe it's been fenced in and gated as part of the military's "stabilization" of Hawkins post-"earthquake"? also now this aside is going on for too long, but I did see some speculation at some point that the Turnbows are buying up a lot of property in Hawkins as it's gotten cheaper after the concentration of various minor and major disasters the past few years, which is an interesting concept.)

Derek likely travels with our team from the Mansion (though annoyingly he isn't visually confirmed to be at the dinner/mansion that night, but entertaining other scenarios makes my brain atp. too many moving pieces), probably to the Radio Station while all that bad sh*t goes down and our groups get separated, and then from there to the Farm. He brings his sheets and his lunchbox, because Ross posted photos of them at the Farm set - so that implies however he ended up with our team there was some effort to pack for an overnight stay (or grabbed somewhat randomly as part of a mad dash to get out ig). I would guess the bullet hole in his lunchbox gets shot at the Radio Station unless there's also gunfire at the Mansion. Derek and Holly do seem to be connected to the still extremely mysterious "military is bussing elementary school aged kids to the downtown Hawkins military compound and likely keeping them there since they have a teacher on their payroll" plotline. Holly probably "vanishes" at the end of ep 1, but that doesn't mean she's exactly Will 2.0 and gets taken by a Demogorgon into the UD - if Holly is actually taken by the military to the downtown Hawkins military barracks with the rest of the kids, maybe Derek has information about what's going on there that the team needs to rescue her? Derek also shows up in Maya's accidental script leak ("Derek" is not totally clear in this version of the forensics sry, but while blurry you can still see it pretty clearly in the middle of the page), when Robin and Mike are using the tunnels to access the barracks where the kids are and maybe rescuing them. I think that happens end of ep 4 or later, so it seems a little much for the Party to kidnap Derek and then him to get kidnapped again by the military - are they using Derek to sneak in among the kids at the military barracks, maybe to go in and get Holly out? IDK, seems like a lot to ask an 8-year-old but the show did send Erica alone into a secret Russian military base at age 10 so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Derek seemed to film quite a bit at the DH military set (his rainbow sweater made him one of the easier characters for the paps to spot lol), so he (and Holly) also might get stuck there after this point for a while. He's still there (or returns) in ep 7/8ish, when the kids were filming with Will and El in their late season outfits. Derek's clothing isn't visible in the pap photos so we don't know if he gets to change.

And a random final note, those anon leaks linked above also claim Derek has a crush on Erica. They're far enough apart in age and at separate schools (Erica is now probably in 8th grade, while Derek and Holly will be in 2nd - 4th depending on how retconny they get with Holly's age) that if true I think it probably develops during the events of the season. So that could be cute or grating, we'll see. currently I'm clinging to this as evidence he actually is at the Turnbow dinner, and Erica starts to win his heart there, maybe by being kind of rude to his parents lol.

And then obviously there are a million other scenarios we don't have the info to concoct at this time. but the pieces have to start to come together at some point 😵‍💫

I’ve been thinking about Erica Sinclair in S5. Based on that photo we got of her at the table, it seems she’s involved with the Turnbow(?) family. Early on in the season feels likely. I’m sure other people have put these pieces together, but my guess off that photo is that she’s a dinner guest (possibly less than willing?) as a ploy to keep them busy while the others do reconnaissance. We also have a photo of her at the farm(?) with the Derek kid(?), though, and I’m not sure what to make of that. The farm feels very indistinct in terms of its role in the plot—but then again, most of the locations do. We know so little 🫠

[blade-that-was-broken]

Wrath and Ruin

Reunions Part 1

With the fear for his family and the loan sharks previously on his tail, Floyd runs back to the Troll Kingdoms, entering from the far side of Pop territory and he eventually makes it to Pop Village. They aren’t quite as loud as in canon, and have a tendency to hide more but the forest is protective of them and Floyd. When he makes it to Pop Village, Floyd is reunited with Clay. 

Floyd is relieved to see a brother. Since it is the middle of the day when he finds Clay, he thinks Branch might be in school so they talk. They have a reunion and Clay talks about what happened and the escape, careful about the news about Branch. Floyd tells him of his old bandmates and the letter he received about the destruction of the pop trolls and the war. He doesn’t tell him everything about his history. 

Clay actually doesn’t know about the war itself. Eventually, he is forced to confess about Rosiepuff and Branch. Floyd is floored to the point that he goes gray and gets into a depressive state for weeks. Clay takes care of him and as months go by, Floyd gets better but the blame nearly crushes him. Don’t know whose idea it is but the brothers decide they need to tell Spruce. Floyd had traveled a bit with him. With the route they take, it leads them near the troll tree where they find Bergentown entirely abandoned and in ruins. The tree is decimated. 

They are stunned and freaked out. It is here they meet a Funk Troll and he speaks of the tale of the Rock attack and how everyone believes nearly all pop trolls are dead. He inquires about other pop trolls but Clay keeps a little quiet on it. He’s paranoid. 

“Are there any other survivors?” Floyd asked with a frown. 

“A couple. One, at least,” the funk troll frowned. “But not really, sorry, no.” 

As they talk, Floyd falls into a hole that is kind of hidden which ends up being a tunnel. It goes the opposite way of the escape tunnels so they think perhaps there are more survivors. All three of them decide to follow it. The tunnel is long and the Brozone bros don’t know what made it. The funk troll tells them it was probably an armadillo bus but the boys don’t know that is. So during the travels, Floyd and Clay learn a bit more about the war - the initial start and how Rock eventually got the upper hand. They come to a collapsed end and things start to rumble. They think it is a dangerous armadillo bus and panics. The funk troll gets them out and to the surface with a gadget he has. “It’s not what it’s made for but it works, I guess.” 

Since getting out of the hole, they are out of Pop territory and for a while, don’t know where they are. They eventually find a town and go inside but then are almost arrested by Rock Trolls that control the town on suspicion of being pop trolls, however they are beforehand found by Spruce, who manages to hide them away in the home he has made for himself. 

Spruce looks a bit different, having painted and possibly tattooed himself a bit to appear more similar to those who has adopted the subgenre of. Spruce - Bruce - has been living under the guise of a subgenre for well over a year because pop trolls are hunted. He’s still learning about how things are working in this new world and regime. He knows a bit about what happened to the tree. The reunion is sweet and joyful once they get to safety and there are plenty of hugs. 

He gets to explain what happened to him - about Vacay Island and then how Brandy saved him when Rock trolls thought he was a pop troll. And here, he has been living for quite some time, trying to keep under the radar. He talks a bit about how a war seemed to be kind of starting up but they live kind of out of the way, so it takes time for information and communication to get to them. Spruce says he also knows about what is said to have happened to the Pop trolls and the tree. 

Floyd tells him that he saw what was left of the tree. Although considering the news about how Pop trolls seem to be hunted, Clay and Floyd don’t say anything about the other pop trolls in the hidden village (they’d probably tell Bruce later, in confidence). However, they do tell of their grandmother’s fate… as well as Branch. 

And that night, they mourn together. 

In the morning, over breakfast with Floyd and Clay’s funk troll friend as well as Brandy, the brothers start speaking of their oldest brother and what to do about trying to find him. No one knows where any other pop trolls are. He could be hiding like Bruce or maybe he was hiding alone in the mountains - after all, he wanted to go to the Neverglades. But the moment they mention John Dory’s name, they are given crazed looks. 

The funk troll is shocked into silence. Brandy spins around and shushes them immediately. The brothers are confused as she tells them to quiet down. “You don’t speak that name!” 

“Why not?”

Brandy explains that one can be arrested for even mentioning that, specific, name, on suspicion of collaboration. They ask why, of course. Before she can try to explain her side, the Funk troll says he’s a criminal, probably the most wanted troll in the Kingdom. You think Rock Trolls are terrible? John Dory is far worse. “He’s a criminal,” the funk troll stated, flatly. “You think Rock trolls do terrible things? John Dory is worse. He finds you? You’re never seen again.” 

He continues to insinuate John is a murderer but Brandy refutes it and tells them John is bringing back the war - rebellion. The brothers are still confused but Brandy tells them a story of one of the most well known soldiers from the start of the war - a near feral pop troll. Some of it is fake, of course, and some rumor. She tells them he has become a dagger in Thrash’s ribs, destroying convoys, guerrilla tactics and rescuing prisoners. 

Although the funk troll tries to reiterate that anyone who comes across him is never seen again and probably dead, Brandy insists they are taken to a safe haven. A place of peace where people can live in peace and sing their own songs without worry of becoming zombies. 

“Do you know how we can find him?” 

“You can’t find him.” 

“Why not?” 

“You can’t find him. No one can/No one can find him - he finds you.” 

And the brothers are just… so confused, understandably so, although relieved that John is alive. And then, the door is bust down - the Rock Trolls discovered the ruse.

Next Up: Journey

[benevolenterrancy]

("Always. Continuously. With increasing apprehension, and decreasing hope. I will love you if I never see you again, and I will love you if I see you every Tuesday. I will love you as a corpse loves the beak of the vulture. I will love you no matter what happens to you, and no matter how I discover what happens to you, and no matter what happens to me as I discover this." -- paraphrased from The Beatrice Letters, Lemony Snicket)

[skunkes]

[goldendivinewrath]

@typhoonvash

It should feel better to walk away. To put some distance between them and the gravestones, or at least he thinks so. But it is like being watched; it's like being glared at as they leave a place they're not particularly welcome in, but useful. Cast out, but not completely willingly. That has to be just him, right? Paranoia, imagination--

He almost expects something to happen as Canary reaches out for the lock. Something, anything. He doesn't even realize he braced, coiled like a spring until he realizes the ache in his chest is a lack of breathing. That's easy enough to do at the moment, though the tension doesn't completely leave with his exhale. There's a new one as his company speaks.

"Reminded you... of who you were." Soft words. Soft smile. No; tight smile. So fake and fragile it looks like it's about to rip to shreds, not really hiding the burn of bile in the back of his throat. No, there's no need to speak a name, no need to share details. He knows, they know. A shame, is all. To know so well.

It's a shame to know that if the intonation were different, those same words would mean someone else with a different outcome entirely. Best not to think about that at all.

He's not sure why Canary looks so puzzled until Vash himself follows his gaze and-- Reads..? It's another heavy stone to add to the collection which seems to be gathering in his stomach. Dreams, nightmares. A place away from life but also of death... maybe. He makes a show out of searching his pockets for a pen, sincerely not sure if he had one to begin with. He doesn't find one with a disappointed hum, which is all the more a shame when the thought of leaving a silly little doodle is immediately out of reach.

"Resting's good." The words are hollow. Reflexive. He knows he's speaking to himself, a version of himself, and he can't help but sound that way when he's trying to give himself a pep talk. Empty, disinterested. No. Canary really-- He deserves better. He wants to say as much, to find a way to condense and express in a way that won't send either of them running now but the...

The breeze. Voices. Whispers. Hairs on the back of his neck stand, eyes widen. He can't hear what they're saying. Accusing? Pleading? Running. The other is talking about running and he feels his own pulse start to speed up before--

Crack. Crunch. Stomach sinking further. He doesn't have to see it. Doesn't even look down; but he does look at Canary. Confirms.

He's everywhere here, the name they cannot speak. He's here in his absence. Vash knows what that feels like. Emptiness as a companion. Hard to say he prefers grief. Sometimes they swap places, the emptiness and the agony, flip of a coin. He doesn't think--

Canary's not at that point. Doesn't seem to be. The loss, the... the after. He can escape this, can't he? There are no omens, surely. There are no signs. There's only... "They can be fixed, can't they?"

He still can't look down. He won't.

@goldendivinewrath

The glaring gravestones continue to make Canary uncomfortable. They remind him far too much about that fateful day when the ships fell, and then he ran. Ran as fast as he could while crying. Faster than he ever had.

Even then, he hadn't escaped the rotting hands that wanted to pull him under the sand for vengeance. Eventually he did give in, did want to die, but...

They reach the imposing cast iron gate after he lets the silence hang; he ponders the meaning of this Vash's words—has he always been this frustrating to get an answer from? He supposes that he does it on purpose, so yes. Canary reaches for the oversized padlock and chain dangling unlocked from one end of the partially opened gate and takes it into his hand to analyze it.

"I was running too," Canary eventually mumbles, "I let him get too close. He found me and reminded me who I was and then I just... bolted." There's no need to address who 'he' is, they both know. "I thought, maybe... if I did that then no one would have to get hurt. He wouldn't get hurt. He could... focus on other, more important things. Protecting them, I mean."

It's selfish to want anything more from Wolfwood. It's selfish to want him to find Canary, lost in the desert somewhere, not causing trouble... it's selfish to want—

He drops the chain and lock, allowing them to hang where they were. Stepping outside, Canary's able to see the details of the gate. There are... what appear to be letters, but not from any language he knows. They're almost uncanny—he's not sure the alphabet they draw from is real.

There's an announcement on a poster near the entrance, so Canary takes a look at that next. It seems to be a warning of some kind, but again, the language isn't anything he knows. The words may as well be blurs on the page.

"I'm not sure what I was doing right before finding you. Maybe I was resting...?"

Yearning.

The bell continues to toll in the distance. The silent black birds watch them from wires and rooftops with cocked heads and open beaks. They are the audience, while the Vashes are the actors. A sudden breeze stirs and Canary is almost sure he recognizes the voices it carries to his ears in a whispered hush.

"I can't stop running," he continues, as if it's a response to the hisses in his ears, "If I do then—"

Something cracks underneath steel-plated boots. Canary draws his foot back, terrified to look down but does so anyway. Whatever words he was about to say die in a breath as he stares at a shattered pair of sunglasses, cracked in half at the bridge.

[ghost-bard]

feeling unwell about solavellan

[wonder-worker]

During [the spring and summer of 1141], a number of contemporary narrative sources agreed that Matilda’s sudden and unexpected success went straight to her head. Matilda’s most renowned modern biographer has suggested that “conduct acceptable in a powerful king . . . was not acceptable in a ‘Lady of the English’. This line of reasoning can be taken quite a bit further. It is clear that contemporaries expected Matilda to emulate the behavior of those women who had previously held the rank of regina, and act like a queen consort while performing the office of king. Most queens consort, however, did not have to consolidate recognition of their position as Matilda was constrained to do. Nearly all the chroniclers who had marveled at her assumption of power turned on her immediately. Not surprisingly, the Gesta Stephani took the greatest exception:

She at once put on an extremely arrogant demeanor instead of the modest gait and bearing proper to the gentle sex, began to walk and speak and do all things more stiffly and more haughtily than she had been wont.

But other more sympathetic chroniclers also joined this chorus of disapproval: Henry of Huntington described her as “elated with insufferable pride” while the Worcester chronicler noted her “hard heart” as she strove to consolidate her position. Had she been a man, Matilda’s decidedly authoritarian style might have passed for a regal show of strength. Indeed, Matilda probably felt that if she was to hold on to her newly acquired status, she needed to behave like a king. Thus, Matilda’s forward movement from recognition of her status to the execution of her office was fraught with gendered difficulties concerning how a woman ought to conduct herself.

...As she anticipated her crowning, Matilda strove to consolidate her dynastic claims and establish her authority. It seems reasonable to suppose that Matilda looked to her father and her first husband for examples of successful kingship as she did for representational purposes. Both Emperor Henry V and King Henry I were suspicious, uncompromising, relentless, and ruthless in the pursuit of their aims. Probably both would have advised Matilda to follow their example. This was exactly what St. Bernard told Queen Melisende of Jerusalem following the death of her husband: “show the man in the woman; order all things . . . so that those who see you will judge your works to be those of a king rather than a queen.” Much of Matilda’s behavior during the spring and summer of 1141 can be explained as the emulation of male gendered kingship. But kings had the built-in advantage of female consorts to soften the more hardboiled aspects of their rule; Matilda had played that very role herself for her first husband. Nevertheless, in 1141, Matilda eschewed the feminine aspects of queenship completely, in effect negating what could have been useful symbolism to bolster the construction of her authority. But for Matilda to be perceived as a soft, forgiving, and gentle woman at the one moment she needed to consolidate her position at the top of a male dominant political society would not have been practical.

But by constructing herself as a female feudal lord, and emulating male gendered kingship, Matilda annoyed contemporary observers. The chroniclers’ hostility may have been due to the fact that Matilda was claiming kingly sovereignty for herself alone, and not in association with either her husband or her eldest son. The Gesta Stephani described Matilda as not only arrogant, but also spurning the advice of her chief advisors, the earl of Gloucester, her uncle King David of Scotland, and the “kingmaker” himself, the Bishop of Winchester. The Gesta implied that if Matilda had behaved as a deferential woman, and heeded the counsel of her male advisors, she could have devised a means to permanently depose Stephen, and be crowned and anointed in his place. The Gesta placed Matilda’s ultimate failure at her own door, blaming it on her arrogant reliance on her inferior, womanly intellect and emotions.

Matilda’s hard-line stance, acceptable in a male king, bothered the authors of the Worcester chronicle and the Gesta, suggesting that contemporaries were confused by what they wanted the “Lady of the English” to do, indicating that, as a woman and a domina, she should behave gently like a queen rather than forcefully like a king. Combined, all the chroniclers, with the exception of Malmesbury, suggested that Matilda should have used the intercessory powers of queenship to set Stephen free, moderated the harsher aspects of her father’s rule, and excused the Londoners from financial support. Although a more diplomatic approach might have helped, freeing Stephen at that moment in time would have realistically served no practical purpose in establishing Matilda’s authority. And, in denying Eustace his inheritance, Matilda was only imitating the efforts of her father, Henry I, who also dealt harshly with challengers to his throne. Henry I kept his elder brother Robert Curthose in prison until he died, and prevented his nephew, William Clito, Curthose’s heir, from gaining any aspect of the Anglo-Norman inheritance. Matilda wished to convince her contemporaries that she was quite capable of being a king, but their reactions betrayed hostility toward her as a woman presuming to establish kingly authority.

-Charles Beem, "Empress Matilda and Female Lordship", The Lioness Roared: The Problems of Female Rule in English History"

[likablemuffin]

Beginnings

(From: One left (A rottmnt separated au))

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He saw them. Five baby turtles. Or are they classified as humans now? Turtles? Humans? It didn't matter. All that mattered was they were vulnerable. They could be attacked. Killed even. He rushed over to them and picked two up. They seemed to be a painted turtle and a red-eared slider. How pretty. 

Then it started to hurt. What hurt? Everything. His hands became paws. He started to grow whiskers. It was painful. He couldn't do anything to stop it either. So he ran. He was still holding those two baby turtles. 

But he felt horrible. He left three behind. What would happen to them? He didn't want to think about it. He knew it wouldn't be anything good. But he couldn't have done anything. He had saved two. Wasn't that enough? 

It wasn't. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Next (this is the one of the only stories I've written that is a continuous storyline btw)

[mariocki]

Shadows of Fear: Did You Lock Up? (1.1, Thames, 1970)

"And they didn't make much mess?"

"No, not really. They forced that door. Smashed the cabinet, slashed a sofa. And kicked a hole in the bedroom door."

"Ah. Big mistake."

"What is?"

"Never lock inside doors. Anything you can to keep them out - but when they're in, let 'em get on with it."

"I'll remember."