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yeoldenews · 3 months

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A Guide to Historically Accurate Regency-Era Names

I recently received a message from a historical romance writer asking if I knew any good resources for finding historically accurate Regency-era names for their characters.

Not knowing any off the top of my head, I dug around online a bit and found there really isn’t much out there. The vast majority of search results were Buzzfeed-style listicles which range from accurate-adjacent to really, really, really bad.

I did find a few blog posts with fairly decent name lists, but noticed that even these have very little indication as to each name’s relative popularity as those statistical breakdowns really don't exist.

I began writing up a response with this information, but then I (being a research addict who was currently snowed in after a blizzard) thought hey - if there aren’t any good resources out there why not make one myself?

As I lacked any compiled data to work from, I had to do my own data wrangling on this project. Due to this fact, I limited the scope to what I thought would be the most useful for writers who focus on this era, namely - people of a marriageable age living in the wealthiest areas of London.

So with this in mind - I went through period records and compiled the names of 25,000 couples who were married in the City of Westminster (which includes Mayfair, St. James and Hyde Park) between 1804 to 1821.

So let’s see what all that data tells us…

To begin - I think it’s hard for us in the modern world with our wide and varied abundance of first names to conceive of just how POPULAR popular names of the past were.

If you were to take a modern sample of 25-year-old (born in 1998) American women, the most common name would be Emily with 1.35% of the total population. If you were to add the next four most popular names (Hannah, Samantha, Sarah and Ashley) these top five names would bring you to 5.5% of the total population. (source: Social Security Administration)

If you were to do the same survey in Regency London - the most common name would be Mary with 19.2% of the population. Add the next four most popular names (Elizabeth, Ann, Sarah and Jane) and with just 5 names you would have covered 62% of all women.

To hit 62% of the population in the modern survey it would take the top 400 names.

The top five Regency men’s names (John, William, Thomas, James and George) have nearly identical statistics as the women’s names.

I struggled for the better part of a week with how to present my findings, as a big list in alphabetical order really fails to get across the popularity factor and also isn’t the most tumblr-compatible format. And then my YouTube homepage recommended a random video of someone ranking all the books they’d read last year - and so I present…

The Regency Name Popularity Tier List

The Tiers

S+ - 10% of the population or greater. There is no modern equivalent to this level of popularity. 52% of the population had one of these 7 names.

S - 2-10%. There is still no modern equivalent to this level of popularity. Names in this percentage range in the past have included Mary and William in the 1880s and Jennifer in the late 1970s (topped out at 4%).

A - 1-2%. The top five modern names usually fall in this range. Kids with these names would probably include their last initial in class to avoid confusion. (1998 examples: Emily, Sarah, Ashley, Michael, Christopher, Brandon.)

B - .3-1%. Very common names. Would fall in the top 50 modern names. You would most likely know at least 1 person with these names. (1998 examples: Jessica, Megan, Allison, Justin, Ryan, Eric)

C - .17-.3%. Common names. Would fall in the modern top 100. You would probably know someone with these names, or at least know of them. (1998 examples: Chloe, Grace, Vanessa, Sean, Spencer, Seth)

D - .06-.17%. Less common names. In the modern top 250. You may not personally know someone with these names, but you’re aware of them. (1998 examples: Faith, Cassidy, Summer, Griffin, Dustin, Colby)

E - .02-.06%. Uncommon names. You’re aware these are names, but they are not common. Unusual enough they may be remarked upon. (1998 examples: Calista, Skye, Precious, Fabian, Justice, Lorenzo)

F - .01-.02%. Rare names. You may have heard of these names, but you probably don’t know anyone with one. Extremely unusual, and would likely be remarked upon. (1998 examples: Emerald, Lourdes, Serenity, Dario, Tavian, Adonis)

G - Very rare names. There are only a handful of people with these names in the entire country. You’ve never met anyone with this name.

H - Virtually non-existent. Names that theoretically could have existed in the Regency period (their original source pre-dates the early 19th century) but I found fewer than five (and often no) period examples of them being used in Regency England. (Example names taken from romance novels and online Regency name lists.)

Just to once again reinforce how POPULAR popular names were before we get to the tier lists - statistically, in a ballroom of 100 people in Regency London: 80 would have names from tiers S+/S. An additional 15 people would have names from tiers A/B and C. 4 of the remaining 5 would have names from D/E. Only one would have a name from below tier E.

Women's Names

S+ Mary, Elizabeth, Ann, Sarah

S - Jane, Mary Ann+, Hannah, Susannah, Margaret, Catherine, Martha, Charlotte, Maria

A - Frances, Harriet, Sophia, Eleanor, Rebecca

B - Alice, Amelia, Bridget~, Caroline, Eliza, Esther, Isabella, Louisa, Lucy, Lydia, Phoebe, Rachel, Susan

C - Ellen, Fanny*, Grace, Henrietta, Hester, Jemima, Matilda, Priscilla

D - Abigail, Agnes, Amy, Augusta, Barbara, Betsy*, Betty*, Cecilia, Christiana, Clarissa, Deborah, Diana, Dinah, Dorothy, Emily, Emma, Georgiana, Helen, Janet^, Joanna, Johanna, Judith, Julia, Kezia, Kitty*, Letitia, Nancy*, Ruth, Winifred>

E - Arabella, Celia, Charity, Clara, Cordelia, Dorcas, Eve, Georgina, Honor, Honora, Jennet^, Jessie*^, Joan, Joyce, Juliana, Juliet, Lavinia, Leah, Margery, Marian, Marianne, Marie, Mercy, Miriam, Naomi, Patience, Penelope, Philadelphia, Phillis, Prudence, Rhoda, Rosanna, Rose, Rosetta, Rosina, Sabina, Selina, Sylvia, Theodosia, Theresa

F - (selected) Alicia, Bethia, Euphemia, Frederica, Helena, Leonora, Mariana, Millicent, Mirah, Olivia, Philippa, Rosamund, Sybella, Tabitha, Temperance, Theophila, Thomasin, Tryphena, Ursula, Virtue, Wilhelmina

G - (selected) Adelaide, Alethia, Angelina, Cassandra, Cherry, Constance, Delilah, Dorinda, Drusilla, Eva, Happy, Jessica, Josephine, Laura, Minerva, Octavia, Parthenia, Theodora, Violet, Zipporah

H - Alberta, Alexandra, Amber, Ashley, Calliope, Calpurnia, Chloe, Cressida, Cynthia, Daisy, Daphne, Elaine, Eloise, Estella, Lilian, Lilias, Francesca, Gabriella, Genevieve, Gwendoline, Hermione, Hyacinth, Inez, Iris, Kathleen, Madeline, Maude, Melody, Portia, Seabright, Seraphina, Sienna, Verity

Men's Names

S+ John, William, Thomas

S - James, George, Joseph, Richard, Robert, Charles, Henry, Edward, Samuel

A - Benjamin, (Mother’s/Grandmother’s maiden name used as first name)#

B - Alexander^, Andrew, Daniel, David>, Edmund, Francis, Frederick, Isaac, Matthew, Michael, Patrick~, Peter, Philip, Stephen, Timothy

C - Abraham, Anthony, Christopher, Hugh>, Jeremiah, Jonathan, Nathaniel, Walter

D - Adam, Arthur, Bartholomew, Cornelius, Dennis, Evan>, Jacob, Job, Josiah, Joshua, Lawrence, Lewis, Luke, Mark, Martin, Moses, Nicholas, Owen>, Paul, Ralph, Simon

E - Aaron, Alfred, Allen, Ambrose, Amos, Archibald, Augustin, Augustus, Barnard, Barney, Bernard, Bryan, Caleb, Christian, Clement, Colin, Duncan^, Ebenezer, Edwin, Emanuel, Felix, Gabriel, Gerard, Gilbert, Giles, Griffith, Harry*, Herbert, Humphrey, Israel, Jabez, Jesse, Joel, Jonas, Lancelot, Matthias, Maurice, Miles, Oliver, Rees, Reuben, Roger, Rowland, Solomon, Theophilus, Valentine, Zachariah

F - (selected) Abel, Barnabus, Benedict, Connor, Elijah, Ernest, Gideon, Godfrey, Gregory, Hector, Horace, Horatio, Isaiah, Jasper, Levi, Marmaduke, Noah, Percival, Shadrach, Vincent

G - (selected) Albion, Darius, Christmas, Cleophas, Enoch, Ethelbert, Gavin, Griffin, Hercules, Hugo, Innocent, Justin, Maximilian, Methuselah, Peregrine, Phineas, Roland, Sebastian, Sylvester, Theodore, Titus, Zephaniah

H - Albinus, Americus, Cassian, Dominic, Eric, Milo, Rollo, Trevor, Tristan, Waldo, Xavier

# Men were sometimes given a family surname (most often their mother's or grandmother's maiden name) as their first name - the most famous example of this being Fitzwilliam Darcy. If you were to combine all surname-based first names as a single 'name' this is where the practice would rank.

*Rank as a given name, not a nickname

+If you count Mary Ann as a separate name from Mary - Mary would remain in S+ even without the Mary Anns included

~Primarily used by people of Irish descent

^Primarily used by people of Scottish descent

>Primarily used by people of Welsh descent

I was going to continue on and write about why Regency-era first names were so uniform, discuss historically accurate surnames, nicknames, and include a little guide to finding 'unique' names that are still historically accurate - but this post is already very, very long, so that will have to wait for a later date.

If anyone has any questions/comments/clarifications in the meantime feel free to message me.

Methodology notes: All data is from marriage records covering six parishes in the City of Westminster between 1804 and 1821. The total sample size was 50,950 individuals.

I chose marriage records rather than births/baptisms as I wanted to focus on individuals who were adults during the Regency era rather than newborns. I think many people make the mistake when researching historical names by using baby name data for the year their story takes place rather than 20 to 30 years prior, and I wanted to avoid that. If you are writing a story that takes place in 1930 you don’t want to research the top names for 1930, you need to be looking at 1910 or earlier if you are naming adult characters.

I combined (for my own sanity) names that are pronounced identically but have minor spelling differences: i.e. the data for Catherine also includes Catharines and Katherines, Susannah includes Susannas, Phoebe includes Phebes, etc.

The compound 'Mother's/Grandmother's maiden name used as first name' designation is an educated guesstimate based on what I recognized as known surnames, as I do not hate myself enough to go through 25,000+ individuals and confirm their mother's maiden names. So if the tally includes any individuals who just happened to be named Fitzroy/Hastings/Townsend/etc. because their parents liked the sound of it and not due to any familial relations - my bad.

I did a small comparative survey of 5,000 individuals in several rural communities in Rutland and Staffordshire (chosen because they had the cleanest data I could find and I was lazy) to see if there were any significant differences between urban and rural naming practices and found the results to be very similar. The most noticeable difference I observed was that the S+ tier names were even MORE popular in rural areas than in London. In Rutland between 1810 and 1820 Elizabeths comprised 21.4% of all brides vs. 15.3% in the London survey. All other S+ names also saw increases of between 1% and 6%. I also observed that the rural communities I surveyed saw a small, but noticeable and fairly consistent, increase in the use of names with Biblical origins.

Sources of the records I used for my survey:

Ancestry.com. England & Wales Marriages, 1538-1988 [database on-line].

Ancestry.com. Westminster, London, England, Church of England Marriages and Banns, 1754-1935 [database on-line].

#history #regency #1800s #1810s #names #london #writing resources #regency romance #jane austen #bridgerton #bridgerton would be an exponentially better show if daphne's name was dorcas #behold - the reason i haven't posted in three weeks

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bratbby333 · 1 month

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jjk camp counselor au

nsfw brain dump, multiple x reader feat: satoru, suguru, nanami, toji, sukuna, shoko + choso summary: you're a camp counselor trying to make the most of your summer

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

satoru would definitely be the one to lead the rallies each morning, he's so charismatic and domineering. he'd also be in charge of the 15-17 year old group (obvi). he'll blatantly flirt with the other female counselors in front of you to make you jealous, sneaking away to the woods while the kids are eating lunch to apologize to you while balls deep inside you...summer fling energy fr

"i-im sorry...promise...it was nothin...meant n-nothing 't me" he pants out, seeing the irritated look on your face as you glare at him from over your shoulder, arms bracing your body against a tree, your jean shorts down by your ankles, panties shoved to the side. "shut up and keep fucking me, satoru," you roll your eyes in response. "show me how sorry you are," your demanding voice wavering slightly, stifling your moans so he doesn't know how good it feels, trying to keep up your annoyed facade. but god does he feel amazing, his tip stimulating your sweet spot with every stroke. he fucks you so much better when he thinks he's in trouble...he's a whining, whimpering mess for you power bottom!gojo supremacy

suguru is most definitely the chill instructor, leading the more creative activities; arts n crafts like tie-dye, making jewelry, etc. all the kids love him, too. he'd beam with pride as they run up to him to show him what they were able to create. he'd profess his feelings for you with a handmade, beaded bracelet.

you sneak out of the women's cabin in the middle of the night to meet up with suguru, finding him sat on the crest of a hill with a blanket laid out to watch the stars "suguru...this is precious," you gasp, eyes bright with adoration, taking a seat next time him, your legs kicked out in front of you and your arms propping you up. - "what about the kids? what if they see us?" you ask, concern plastered across your face, your legs wrapped around his waist, hands secured behind his neck, fingers tangling in his long hair. "don't worry, love," he breaths out, pausing his strokes, his strong arms positioned on either side of your head, "nanami's watching mine and shoko's watching over yours...plus we're so far from camp, no one's gonna see us", he reassures you with his pelvis flush against your core. "you just look so beautiful like this, i couldn't resist" he'd moan out, returning to his initial pace, thrusting deep and slow, the blanket he had laid out now disheveled. the moonlight bounces off your skin in the most ethereal way, and suguru can't get enough of you.

nanami would be in charge of the whole camp, carefully organizing everyone's permission slips, allergy forms and medical records (which were alphabetized and given to shoko), the payments from parents, the whole nine yards; ensuring everything ran smoothly. he would also be the one supervising the obstacle courses. he'd carefully and methodically strap the kids into their harnesses, surveying everyone intently...do you really think he'd trust the other dummies he works with to do so?

and of course he'd find a way to repurpose the harnesses as restraints in the privacy of the men's cabin with you, the two of you slipping away during one of satoru's overly energetic pep rallies. "ken...what if someone catches us?" you moan out, your arms secured behind you, your back arched, and your chest pressed against the mattress. his deep, purposeful strokes continue, his voice steady as he repsonds. "don't worry, love. we made the mistake of giving satoru the mic, he'll talk for hours if you let him...now hush and let me take care of you, yeah?" you nod back before moaning loudly, the depth of his cock in this position is hitting spots you didn't know existed. "you're taking me so well. such a good girl for me," he groans out, his trust speeding up, the sounds you're making for him spurring him on.

toji would be in charge of the more physical intramurals; dodgeball, kickball, archery, and life guard on duty for the water activities.

and god did he look good while patrolling the waters, his broad shoulders and tanned skin glowing under the summer sun, his wet swim trunks clinging to his thick, muscular thighs. you watch him from your beach chair, legs clenching and core pulsing at the sight of his sternly focused face, his eyes running up and down the lake, his body glistening from the droplets of water trickling from his damp hair. you're glad shoko is more attentive with the kids because your mind is elsewhere (and for a valid reason, too). - after the kids are sent to get changed into their dry clothes, he absolutely obliterates you in the boat house. "saw you watchin' me the whole time...this what you needed, love?" he'd ask through gritted teeth, his thrusts hard and deep, his thick cock stretching you out perfectly. you whimper in response, eyes low, mouth agape, nodding profusely as his fingers dig deeper into your hipbones. "uh huh..needed you so bad, toji," you whine out. baywatch!toji has me putting my fist in my mouth

sukuna would not get hired because the organizers were afraid that he'd try to create a child army and illicit a rebellion to overthrow the camp counsellors, creating a dystopian society where the kids tend to the land and run his errands for him. bummer... ruined his summer plans.

shoko helps you run the girl's cabin. she also works the first aid tent during the day, her long hair tied back to keep her cool. you lean up against a tree, admiring her beauty. you're pulled from your daydream when gojo elbows you in the side, shooting you an amused look; "go make a move, she likes women, ya know?" wiggling his eyebrows at you before running off to frolic in the water with his group.

the two of you sneak away during the bonfire, finding yourself in her bunk, laid on your back with her soft tongue attacking your clit. "sho, i'm close," you gasp out, your hands tangling in her auburn hair. she hums in response, the vibrations pushing you even closer to your release. you cry out for her, the pleasure coursing through you is overwhelming your senses. she uses one hand to cover your mouth, the other swipes between your folds before inserting two finger into your dripping cunt, curling slightly to massage your g-spot. your hips buck against her mouth, before you spill all over her tongue from the added stimulation. as you try to regain your breath, she leans over you and places two fingers against your neck. you gaze up at her through dazed eyes, shooting her a questioning look. "just checkin' your pulse, thought i was losin' you," she laughs.

choso takes his job very seriously, basically a helicopter parent while watching the kids...he's so protective of the children, treating them as if they were his own siblings. he stops dead in his tracks when he first lays eyes on you, watching you interact with your group; you are so sweet with your kids, tenderhearted and caring...he falls in love almost immediately and all he wants is to get close to you.

his soft, slow strokes make you giggle into his ear. everyone's in the mess hall for dinner, leaving the cabin empty, the once silent building now filled with your moans. "cho, you can be rougher with me," you sigh out, pulling him deeper into you, groaning at the stretch of his fully engulfed member. he buries his head into the crook of your neck, a long moan leaving his parted lips as he bottoms out against you. his cheeks flush to a bright red...you swear you can feel the heat emanating off them. "i know...jus' scared i'll cum fast if i go harder...you're just so pretty...so fuckin' sweet, angel," he whimpers out. he paws at every inch of you, his strokes getting more frantic, kissing your cheeks delicately and whispering sweet nothings into your ear.

author notes: this made me giggle so much while writing. i love doing short form AUs, theyre so entertaining to me. sorry about sukuna's i was feeling unhinged when i wrote it

if u have any requests, feel free to send them my way! here's the link to my inbox ☺︎ leave an emoji if you want to be added to my anon club, or send it with your url and i'll credit you!

i really liked this idea and im considering making it a longer story, but i only wanna focus on one character x reader...leave a comment with who you'd want it to be with! (counselor!gojo is calling to me, but what do y'all think?)

thank you all for your love and support on my work...i literally tear up when i get the notifications. i'm so honored that y'all find my writing enjoyable enough to interact ❤︎

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lovelyyandereaddictionpoint · 1 month

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Day in the Life with Yandere Student Council | Part 2

Last Part

“Ah, just the three I wanted to see.”

“G-g-g-g-good a-a-afternoon (Y/n).”

You give him a small wave

The malicious intent is teeming off the couple as they glare at Lucoa

Who continues to smile entirely unbothered

“What do you need all three of us for? Mister. President.”

“You both have a lot of work to catch up on.”

“We have already completed all of our schoolwork and the student council work we have yet to complete is not urgent.”

Lucoa’s piercing glints in the sunlight

“Not anymore. Respectfully this is the new work assigned to you both. Min Su.”

Struggling with one pile after another the treasurer pulls them out

until there are four fairly tall piles on the table

As if the sheer size wasn’t enough Min drops a nameplate on all the piles, politely smiling from behind them when he finishes

“I trust this will at least be finished before morning tomorrow.”

June’s face blanks before a smile once again spreads on his face

“Gill, we’ll take two trips. Sorry (Y/n), we'll have to rain-check on our date.”

June waits for Gill grab two of the piles one with each of their names before walking out

“Bye, (Y/n).”

“Bye…”

When the door closes your attention is turned to Min and Lucoa who are each sporting smiles

“(Y/n) d-d-do you want to help me recount our savings for this month? O-o-or would you like to help me alphabetize our receipts?”

Before you can say anything Lucoa intercedes wrapping arm around your back

“Sorry Min I have a very important task for our honorary member.”

“...oh…”

“But I think it’ll be a good idea for (Y/n) to leave their bags with you.”

“Hah~Really?!”

“Yes, really.”

Min gives you a hug slipping off your pack to cradle it into his chest

“I’ll protect your things with my life!”

Redder than a tomato he runs off with your backpack

And you can only hope he doesn’t trip knowing him

“Well (Y/n) will you join me?”

You don’t have much of a choice as Lucoa already confirms you’re attendance and assignments for class are waived

Following him to his private office you admire the expensive decor and the pristine waterfall against the wall

Its a sight to behold

“So uh Lucoa what’s this super important task?”

“Just a survey. I think it’s important to know the preferences of all my members.”

“...’If you were relocated to a higher living space would you or would you not be satisfied with your life?’...”

“So?”

“Uhm not that this has anything to do with the survey but I like where I am now. I prefer a cozy and convenient place where I can keep learning at school.”

Lucoa smile never fades as he tilts his head at you

“You’re right it doesn’t have anything to do with the survey.”

“I’m not refusing to finish it. It’s just something I wanted to say.”

You wait for some kind of reaction but he leans in his chair and twirls away

“Well I’m glad you told me, (Y/n)."

He stops spinning to stare you down again

“I need that survey tomorrow.”

“Okay!”

You gather the papers prepared to leave

“You don’t have your back pack or any of your belongings.”

“I-i know but it’s getting late I have to get back before curfew.”

“Don’t worry I’ll have my driver drop you off. Besides I was wondering if you wanted to try a strawberry? I just had them imported after a business proposition.”

“Uh sure I guess.”

“Great.”

Everyday’s a new adventure with these guys

But it’s a school day after all

a specialized college such as this is sure to have it’s eccentrics

To be bad your trapped with them

Not even the weekends will keep you out of their grasp

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nerdygaymormon · 3 months

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A survey of more than 90,000 transgender people in the U.S. — the largest nationwide survey of the community ever — found that trans people continue to experience workplace and medical discrimination. However, the overwhelming majority of them still report more life satisfaction after having transitioned.

Among the key findings released Wednesday, the survey found that trans people continue to report experiencing discrimination and mistreatment because of their gender identities and/or expressions.

More than one-third of adult respondents, or 34%, were experiencing poverty at the time of the survey, and 18% were unemployed. More than 1 in 10, or 11%, of respondents who had ever held jobs said they had been fired or forced to resign or had lost jobs or been laid off because of their gender identities or expressions. And, in line with previous survey findings, 30% of respondents had experienced homelessness in their lifetimes.

Of adult respondents who saw health care providers in the previous 12 months, 48% reported having had at least one negative experience because they were transgender, including being refused health care, having staff members use the incorrect pronouns for them or having providers use abusive language or be physically rough or abusive while treating them. Fear of mistreatment prevented 24% of respondents from seeing doctors when they needed it in the 12 months before the survey.

Despite those negative experiences, the vast majority of adult respondents, 79%, who lived at least some of the time in different genders from the ones they were assigned at birth reported that they were “a lot more satisfied” with their lives. An additional 15% reported they were “a little more satisfied.”

Respondents who received transition-related medical care reported similarly high rates of satisfaction. Of respondents who were currently receiving hormone treatment, 84% said receiving such treatment for their gender identities/transitions made them “a lot more satisfied” with their lives, and 14% said it made them “a little more satisfied.” Just 1% said hormone treatment made them neither more nor less satisfied, and less than 1% said hormone treatment made them a lot less satisfied.

Of respondents who underwent at least one form of gender-affirming surgery, 88% said it made them “a lot more satisfied,” and 9% said it made them a little more satisfied. Less than 2% total said surgery made them a little less or a lot less satisfied.

Nearly half of respondents to the latest U.S. Transgender Survey said they had thought about moving to other states because their state governments considered or passed such laws that target transgender people, and 5% — about 4,600 people — said they had actually moved to other states because of such legislation.

The top 10 states where trans respondents most often reported moving from were, in alphabetical order, Alabama, Arizona, Florida, Georgia, Missouri, North Carolina, Ohio, Tennessee, Texas and Virginia.

#transgender #nonbinary

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zepskies · 9 months

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Devour Me - Part 1

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Plus-Sized/Latina!Reader

Summary: When you and Dean start to press each other’s buttons, both of your tempers ignite. To make up for it, you give him an impromptu salsa dancing lesson…one he didn’t exactly ask for. (18+)

AN: This is a two-part sequel to “Midnight Espresso!” I would read that one first before you dive into this one. (It’s fun, I promise!)

Word Count: 3,800 Tags/Warnings: Supernatural shenanigans, tiny bit of body insecurity, hurt/comfort, fluffy fluff, and a cliffhanger...

☕ Midnight Espresso Masterlist

Part 1: "A Takeover"

When Dean asked you to move in with him, he really didn’t think it would come to this.

Clearing a nightstand for you, half of the dresser, a section of his closet. Those things are reasonable.

But this is a total takeover, he thinks, as he surveys the sheer amount of crap you’ve brought into his room.

Mind you, despite this still being a bunker, the décor is nice. You brought in sturdy, but stylish wicker baskets for his pile of cassettes (and your CDs) next to the TV, filing bins for the haphazard shuffle of papers on his desk, installed dark wood shelves on the wall for his various weapons and your collection of books.

But he’d had his music organized—not alphabetically or chronologically, but by his own personal rankings of awesomeness. Now they’re all shuffled together by band name.

Plus, he likes having his shotgun on the floor by the bed, within reach, not three feet above his head. And where the fuck is his collection of…magazines?

The point is, every time he looks for something, you’ve put it in a different place. Not to mention the damn bathroom (don’t get him started on all your shea butter lotions, makeup brushes, frilly-smelling soaps, and the army of hair products now taking up space in his cabinets and drawers).

Dean is sitting on the edge of the bed, trying to figure out where the hell his cassette of Zeppelin IV is, when you breeze into the room he now shares with you. You’re dewy with sweat in a Guns & Roses shirt and some yoga pants you reserve for cleaning.

And that’s another thing. You’re more anal than Sam about having the bunker smelling like Pine Sol. However, as you’ve expressed before (after nagging him to pick up his dirty, and occasionally bloody clothes from the floor), while you like a clean house, you are not in fact the maid.

“Hey, baby. Can you fold these for me?” you request. “I need a shower.”

He raises a brow as you dump a new basket of fresh laundry onto the bed. It looks like you washed your clothes mixed in with his, which he actually doesn’t mind. He fishes out one of your red, lacey thongs with a hint of a smile. He bought you these last week, and they already have a tear. (His fault.)

“By the way, next time you move one of my things, mind leaving me a post-it note or something?” he dryly remarks. “It’s like a scavenger hunt in my own damn room.”

You pop your head out of the bathroom, though he can tell by your bare shoulders that you’ve already gotten undressed. Your mouth is quirked at the corner.

“It’s called organization,” you tease. “Apparently a foreign concept to you.”

You disappear back into the bathroom, giving Dean the privacy he needs to grumble almost inaudibly to himself. But then he hears your voice behind the door.

“Oh, by the way. Your vintage collection of smut is in the bottom of your nightstand,” you call out. “That 1996 edition of Busty Asian Beauties is particularly classy.”

Dean hears the wryness in your tone, and his face actually heats up in embarrassment. He frowns at the bathroom door, his jaw tensing, but he takes a breath. Deciding to let it go with a roll of his shoulders, he puts on the TV to catch up on Dr. Sexy M.D. He also neglects the task you gave him, just for a little while.

When you’re still in the bathroom an hour later, Dean starts to get curious about what the hell you’re doing in there. The shower isn’t even running anymore.

That’s when he hears the hairdryer go on.

He knows he’ll never be able to concentrate on his show with all that noise. So with a sigh, he clicks off the TV and eyes the pile of laundry. You probably cleaned the whole freaking bunker this morning. Despite his annoyance, he figures folding your clothes along with his own is the least he can do.

Dean scoops up the pile back into the basket and takes it elsewhere.

He finds his brother at the kitchen table and joins him with his basket. Sam’s gaze raises from his laptop to meet his brother’s grumpy face. He watches in mild curiosity as Dean plops down across from him and dutifully begins folding one of your shirts.

“You okay?” Sam hazards the question.

“Fucking peachy,” Dean replies. “Looking for a new case?”

“Yeah. Nothing yet.” Though Sam raises a brow when Dean all but tosses one of your girly sundresses on the table after it’s folded. (It’s yellow, and it happens to be his favorite on you.)

“Everything all right?” Sam asks.

Dean glances up, finds his brother’s knowing eyes, and doesn’t have it in him to lie. He lets go of a breath, as well as one of his undershirts to rub at his forehead.

“She’s nosey, Sam. She’s all up in my business.”

“Your girlfriend?” Sam clarifies, with raised brows. “Of six months.”

“Yeah, that one,” Dean quips, with all due sarcasm. “Ever since she moved in, she’s been going through everything, moving my crap every which way, making it so I can’t find a damn thing.”

Sam’s mouth edges at a smile.

“I’m tellin’ you, Sam, she’s damn near taken over,” Dean insists.

“You done?” Sam teases. Dean just leans in, like he’s about to level his brother with a secret.

“Matter of fact, she locks herself in the bathroom for like, forever. I just heard the hairdryer go on, meaning another hour at least. What the fuck is she doing in there, getting ready for prom?”

Sam finally has to chuckle. “Clearly it’s been a long time since you’ve lived with a woman, Dean.”

Dean scoffs. “Right.”

“And she’s actually been a big help in cleaning up around here,” Sam says, with a growing smirk. “Which is, quite literally, a refreshing change.”

Dean snorts at that.

“Of course, you’re happy,” he says. “A new damn dish rack turns you on.”

Sam shoots him a wan look. “The question is, are you happy?”

That manages to take Dean by surprise. He hesitates to answer…

But he’s saved when he hears someone approaching. He knows it’s you because he can smell the mix of your floral soap and coconutty shampoo; it’s a scent that often lingers on your pillow and has unconsciously infiltrated Dean’s nose.

His reply to Sam dies on his tongue when he sees you.

“Hey,” you greet both men, all bright and smiley with your hair in wild curls down your back.

A lot of the time you keep your hair straight or loose and wavy, so it’s rare for Dean to see your natural look. It’s a good one for you, he thinks. Along with those jean shorts hugging your curvy hips, and the V-neck top you’re wearing, which offers a nice peek of cleavage.

Your hand falls on his shoulder, with your thumb stroking his neck. You then brush that hand across his back as you pass by on your way to the kitchen. If possible, you’ve become even more touchy since you two got together.

Dean holds fast to your hand, stopping you in your path.

“So that’s what you were working on in there,” he remarks. “Thought I was gonna need to break out the fire extinguisher.”

You grin in amusement and do a little twirl under his hand, shaking out your curls a little.

“You like?” you ask. Dean tugs you back over. He reaches out and fingers at the soft ends of your hair.

“Beautiful,” he says.

“Looks real nice,” Sam adds.

“Why, thank you.” Your smile is contagious, and Dean can’t help reciprocating. You drop a hand on his shoulder again.

“I know you’re our resident Gordon Ramsay, but I kinda feel like cooking today,” you say. “Is Cas coming home anytime soon?”

Dean nods. “Yeah, he called this morning. Probably dropping back in tonight.”

You nod. “Good! I’ll make plenty then…oh, wait, he doesn’t eat.”

“What did you have in mind?” Sam asks.

“Well, I know you guys haven’t had much Cuban food, so I thought you might like to try some ropa vieja,” you reply. Sam’s brows knit together.

“Old clothes?” he translates. His two years of high school Spanish can give him that much.

“Yeah! But it’s basically shredded beef with onions, garlic, tomato sauce, and a bunch of other good stuff,” you explain. Then your eyes brighten. “Oh! And I can make my grandma’s famous black beans, white rice, some bread with crushed garlic and olive oil…”

By the time you finish listing the things you plan on making, Dean is already salivating.

Later that evening, when Dean actually gets to sample said food, he’s eaten enough for three men in the span of forty-five minutes.

“Jesus, man. Going for a record on indigestion?” Sam cautions him, despite his amusement.

Dean pointedly ignores his brother to look over at you. After he swallows another forkful of beef stew, he says, “Not for nothin’, this is probably the second-best meal of my entire life.”

“Oh, yeah?” You giggle. “What’s number one?”

“Diner called Slammies in Alabama. Best fucking pie on Earth,” he easily recalls. “Double applewood bacon cheeseburger, chili cheese fries, brick oven pizza. Bar none.”

Sam inclines his head, remembering the food coma he and Dean had that night. They’d hit the rock-hard pillows at the motel and slept like they’d been on an all-night bender.

“But this is like, right there,” Dean says to you, leveling his hand up by his head.

“Well, let’s see if this moves the needle,” you reply as you get up from your seat. You answer the question in his eyes. “Forgot something, hold on.”

But before you can leave the table, Dean reaches over and takes your hand.

“Thanks, sweetheart. For all of this. I mean it,” he says.

A soft, genuine smile grows across your face. You lean down and press a tender kiss below his hairline, stroking his cheek before you go.

Dean quirks a smile. It’s taken him time to get used to how open you are with your affections, but he likes it. All of it. Every time you reach for him, touch him, brush against him, intentionally or not. He always has.

Though he has to resist embarrassment when he notices the way his brother is watching him. Sam raises a brow, smiling that irritating smile of his.

“Oh, yeah. You’re not happy at all,” he intones.

“Never said I wasn’t,” Dean says defensively. But he perks up when you return. Maybe you’re bringing more garlic bread.

Instead, you’re holding a tin pan.

“What’cha got there?” he asks.

“Dessert,” you announce. It’s a Cuban flan: creamy, rich custard with a consistency smoother than cheesecake, and thicker than pudding.

You haven’t even sat back down yet when Dean carves himself a generous slice. He moans when a large forkful melts in his mouth. You start to blush as you watch him with crossed arms and a hand over your smile. You don’t know whether to be amused or flattered.

Sam watches his brother stuff his face with a subtle shake of his head.

“You’re enabling him,” he tells you. You shrug, but then you rest your hands on both Sam and Dean’s shoulders.

“Now I have someone to cook for,” you say. You have tears in your eyes, but you quickly blink and try to turn away. Frowning, Dean takes your hand.

“Hey, where you going?” he says, and aims to pull you into his lap. You hesitate, knowing you’re not going to be able to squeeze between him and the table.

“It’s okay, these hips don’t fit,” you chuckle wryly, with a sniffle. But Dean just backs his chair up from the table a bit to make room.

“What’re you talking about? You fit right here,” he says firmly, and he tugs you down. This is the one thing Dean has tried his damndest to break you out of—that self-deprecating streak of yours.

You finally accept being guided into his lap, where you indeed fit snugly across his thighs. His arm comes around the front to hold you close by your hip, while his other hand rests comfortingly on your back.

Looking up into his eyes, you draw enough courage to be honest.

“I was mostly raised by my grandma,” you begin to explain. Your father wasn’t ready to be one, and so wasn’t in the picture. Your mother died when you were in high school. So when your grandmother also passed away a few years ago…

Well, you’ve been alone for a while.

You sniff and wipe at your face, but your eyes close as Dean’s lips press above your brow. When you next open your eyes and cautiously look between the brothers, Sam’s sympathy warms you.

“If it isn’t obvious, you have a home here,” he says. “We can never replace what you’ve lost, but…we’re your family too.”

You know that Dean feels the same way by the way he brushes the tears from your cheek, thumbing at your bottom lip.

"You're right where you need to be," he says, with a hand squeezing your hip. His sincerity is in his even tone, in the firmness in his eyes.

You’re able to smile a bit.

“Ah…I’m interrupting, aren’t I?”

The three of you turn to the kitchen doorway, where Castiel stands awkwardly. He clearly senses emotional tension, but it breaks the moment you turn to him with a tearful laugh.

“Hey, Cas. Have you ever eaten ‘old clothes?’” you ask.

His puzzled expression is absolutely priceless.

When Sam finds a possible hunt in Hope, Indiana, Castiel agrees to go with you all. It’s a small, corn-fed town in the middle of nowhere, and five people have gone missing over the course of a year.

The latest is a nine-year-old kid named Andy Campbell. That alone upsets you; if you have one weakness, it’s for kids.

“Local farmers have been reporting dead cattle too, drained of blood,” Sam says from the passenger seat in the Impala. “I’m thinking vampires trying to keep a low profile.”

“Sounds about right, if a bit sloppy,” Dean remarks. They are in the Midwest though. If this is a coven, or even a rogue vamp who’s been here a while, maybe they got lazy. “So what, police station first? Get any details they might’ve missed.”

“I want to talk to the kid’s mom,” you say. It earns Dean’s gaze at you in the rearview mirror. “We can get the last time she saw him, where he went missing, anything she might’ve held back from the police.”

He nods and shares a glance with Sam. “I’ll go with her. You and Cas scope out the station.”

The angel has gotten better at pretending to be a Fed, but not by much. Sam agrees, even though Dean sees in his face that he’d rather be taking his brother. Dean tempers a smile and keeps driving to the closest motel in this dusty town.

You don a sensible pantsuit to match Dean’s Fed suit, along with your badges: Agents Buckingham and Nicks.

When Andy’s mom, Rachel Campbell, opens the door of her modest home to you and Dean, he lets you take the lead. You’re good at this part, connecting with the victims and getting them to talk. He sometimes worries about you though—that your soft, sympathetic heart will get the best of you.

“How long has Andy been missing?” you ask, accepting a cup of tea from the woman.

Rachel is around your age, maybe a few years older. She looks run down, a shell of a human as she looks at the carpet rather than at you or Dean. You can’t know exactly how she feels, but you have a vivid imagination.

And from the various pictures of her and Andy on the wall, just the two of them, you deduce that she’s a single mother. Just like your mom had been.

“Almost four months,” she admits. “The police station doesn’t even return my calls anymore.”

That upsets you, but you keep a lid on your emotions to focus on the woman in front of you.

“Andy’s father, he’s not around?” Dean asks. Rachel shakes her head, confirming your suspicions.

“No, we split up shortly after he was born,” she replies, her tone tired and resigned. “I was at work. I uh, I work at a doctor’s office. Andy was supposed to come home on the bus, like any other day…but he never did.”

She sucks in a shaky breath as the beginnings of tears make her eyes red and glassy.

“His school couldn’t tell me why he wasn’t on the bus. But one of his friends said he was late getting out of class, so he must’ve tried to walk home. Even though he knew he could call me when that happens…anyway, somebody must’ve grabbed him.”

Rachel looks away as a tear streams down her cheek, followed by another. You feel your throat tighten with a sympathetic burn behind your eyes, but you keep it at bay long enough to set down your tea. You reach out and lay a hand on the woman’s hand. She meets your steady gaze.

“I promise, we’ll find your son,” you tell her.

“What?” you ask Dean as the two of you leave the small house, walking back to the Impala in the driveway. You just know there’s something up with him by the stoic look on his face. It isn’t so stoic to you.

He waits until the two of you are in the car before he levels you with a raised brow.

“Look, I know you want to find this kid. I do too,” he says. “But watch out about making promises you can’t keep.”

You frown back at him. “What’s better, letting that poor woman have no hope at all?”

In his mind, Dean thinks it’s worse to give her false hope. But he sees how stubborn you’re getting, so he doesn’t push it. The fact that you care about people like Rachel is part of what drew him to you in the first place, but there’s a line, he thinks. A point where you can care too much.

When you two eventually meet up with Sam and Castiel, they’ve been able to confirm from the body of a recent Jane Doe, with a row of lethal bite marks on her wrist, that this is definitely a vamp case.

After narrowing down where each of the victims were taken, the four of you sketch out a perimeter of where the monsters could likely be hiding. It’s Dean who finds the old barn on the verge of a corn field, about three miles away from the school where Andy was taken.

You all wait until high noon the next day to scope it out. Looking into the front windows is useless; all evidence points to an empty home.

The back of the barn is another story. Cracking the barn door open reveals a large storage area, where a nest of vampires are sleeping in their beds. Some are coupled off, but you note a few on single beds.

Then, your eyes narrow on the humans sleeping piled together in the corner—three women, a young man, and Andy Campbell on a twin-sized bed of his own.

Dean carefully closes the barn door, and the four of you regroup back to the Impala.

“It’s a bigger nest than we thought,” Sam says, though he keeps his voice quiet. Dean is already opening the trunk for his favorite machete.

“First, let’s get those humans out,” he says. You agree with a nod when he hands you a weapon.

Dean shoots you a wink. “This one’s Brenda.”

“What happened to Lucille?” you ask, taking the knife from him.

“That’s the bat wrapped in barbed wire. Matter of fact, I should break her out.”

Dean reaches into the trunk and pulls out the blood-stained bat. He rubs the handle fondly.

“Ahh, Dad loved this thing.”

You sidle up next to him and glance over wryly. “You want some alone time with your big stick, there?”

Dean flashes you a smirk, giving you a long once over in your form-fitting shirt and jeans. “Well, you’re certainly welcome to join me, sweetheart.”

You snort in response, bumping into his side with your hip. Dean teasingly bounces one of your curls in your face. You smile and swat his hand away.

Sam subtly rolls his eyes, despite a small smile as he shares a look with Cas.

“All right. Can we go, please?” Sam says in amusement. Castiel awkwardly straps on a machete to his belt. He doesn’t believe he’ll need it, but Sam and Dean are always prepared. He wants to be as well.

You’re ready to go, but Dean holds you back by your shoulder. You look up at him curiously.

“Hey, follow our lead on this one, okay?” he asks.

You sense that he’s hedging at something more specific with that request.

“What do you mean?”

“The kid. I know you wanna beeline for him the second we get in there, but hold off,” Dean says. His gaze is serious. “He could be turned.”

He got a good look inside, the same as you. The kid was lying on a bed while the other humans were chained up on the floor. Still, you shoot him an incredulous look.

“Why would they turn a kid?” you ask. “They have the others.”

“Yeah, and they were chained up. Why not him?” Dean asks, imploring you to think logically. He shares a look with Sam, who silently agrees. You look between the brothers with pursed lips.

“Maybe they don’t give a fuck, because they’re cocky assholes,” you retort. And you walk past them to head back towards the barn.

The brothers and the angel share one last look, with Dean letting out a subtle breath before he follows you.

You creep back into the barn, as quiet as possible through the room of snoring vampires. The brothers and Castiel go to the sleepy women in the corner. They look dirty and malnourished, wearing threadbare clothing. Sam feels the pulse of the man prone on the floor, but he’s already dead.

When one of the girls wakes with a whimper, Dean holds his finger to his lips, warning them all wordlessly to be quiet. He looks over and doesn’t find you next to him. He nearly curses out loud when he sees you heading for Andy’s bed across the room.

Meanwhile, you touch the little boy’s shoulder and shake him a little. He wakes with a small sound of reluctance, but you shush him gently.

“Andy?” You grasp his shoulders. He nods, though his blonde brows are furrowed with confusion.

“Who…who are you?” he asks. He rubs at his sleepy brown eyes.

“I’m here to help,” you reply in a whisper. “I’m going to get you back to your mom, okay?”

After a moment, he nods and lets you pick him up into your arms. You hazard looking over across the room, and you find Dean’s annoyed gaze. Despite the uncomfortable churning in your belly, you ignore him for now and head for the back door.

You’re only able to take a few steps when you feel a hand wrap tightly in your hair and pull it away from your neck, just for rows of several razor-sharp teeth to sink into your neck.

AN: 😬 ...Sorry. If you don't know me by now, I love a cliffhanger. But how'd you like Dean getting used to sharing his space? (And having someone to occasionally put him on his toes.)

Part 2 will feature a good old fashioned "you should've listened to me" fight, some angst, some making up, some salsa dancing, and a healthy dose of smutty smut.

Next Time:

“I don’t care what that legendary gut tells you,” you sass back. “I’m not a little girl, and you’re not my damn father!”

Dean raises incredulous brows at the way you’re shouting at him. He crosses his arms.

“What’s this, some kind of Latina temper?” he asks snidely.

You truly become incensed at that.

Keep Reading: PART 2

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gretavangroupie · 1 year

Text

Voyeur

Word count: 3.5k+

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x Female Reader

Warnings: Drinking, Language, Smut, Fluff.

Summary: A new side of Jake comes to life within the walls of your new home. But you may not be the only one who notices.

You hit send, sending the request off to the lab. Releasing a deep sigh from your chest, you push back from your desk and stretch your legs feeling the joints ache for a new position. Your whole body is tired, it's been a long 12 hours. Your phone begins to buzz in your pocket as it vibrates with a text message. A small smile crosses your face when you see Jake’s initials flash across the screen.

JK: Baby, when will you be home?

Glancing at the clock you check the time. 4:05. You flip through the charts you still have to finish and bite your cheek, knowing it's going to be a while. You text him back with the bad news.

You: It’s not looking like any time soon. I still have about 5 charts left to do.

JK: Hmmm, that’s not gonna work.

You: I’m sorry?

JK: I need you to come home, I am dying.

You: Dying?

JK: I need you.

You: Oh

JK: Baby

You: Why don’t you…

JK: No

You: Jake…

JK: Maybe

You: I will try my best to get these done quickly.

JK: Okay

Placing your phone back in your pocket you get started on the first of many charts. Furiously typing and putting in the values, you feel your phone vibrate in your pocket again.

JK: *Image*

Opening the photo you see a barely clothed Jake laying in your bed, just waiting.

You: Tempting as always Jacob, but the more you text me the longer it's going to take. Shoot, I may have to spend the night in the on-call room if it gets too late…

You enjoy teasing him. You know full well that is not your intention.

JK: No. Please come home tonight

You: Love you, see you later.

JK: Love you

JAKE POV

With a huff you put your phone down on the bed. Getting up, you decide to go unpack a few boxes while you wait. You had just bought this big beautiful house together, and you had both been living out of boxes for the past few weeks. You being gone and her working, neither of you really had much time to unpack and get settled.

This was her last shift this week, and the first time you would both be home for a weekend in what felt like months. It would definitely be the first night you had spent with her this week, only seeing her during the day, and you were desperate for her. You needed her. Feeling your blood rushing to your dick you quickly push the thought of her from your mind, before you have to take care of it yourself.

No. Wait for her.

You maneuver your way through the maze of cardboard moving boxes, making your way to the front living room. The sun was starting to set, casting an orange glow onto the dark, charcoal walls. Surveying the amount of boxes left to unpack, you sigh. This is going to take a while.

You had no problem getting your music loft set up, but the living room, and even worse the kitchen… seemed daunting. Grabbing one of the boxes near the door, you drag it across the floor and over to the couch. You sit down, and grab your knife out of your pocket, slicing the tape on top.

As you open it up and peer inside you see your record collection, sitting and waiting to be placed in its new home. You spend the next thirty minutes, alphabetizing and placing the collection on the built-in shelves. One of the things you loved about this home was the unlimited amount of places to store things. It is old, one of the oldest in Nashville. That was part of its charm. When you came to look at the house it spoke to you instantly. It had stories in its walls begging to be told. Within five minutes you knew it was the one and when she told you how much she loved it, you had no choice but to put in an offer on it immediately. Two long days were spent waiting to hear if your offer was accepted, and finally it was. It was yours. Both of yours.

Once all of your records sat happily on the shelves, you moved on to the next box which was full of books, awaiting their similar fate. You began the process of unpacking them, and organizing them on the shelf.

You had only unpacked two boxes but it felt like 40, with all of the back and forth trips between the shelves and the box. Sitting down on the leather chair in the corner, you cross your leg over your knee and pull out your phone to see if she had texted you, but you were met with nothing. A groan leaves your chest at the uncertainty of knowing when she would be home. You’ve never felt this desperate and pathetic in your entire life.

Standing up, you break down the two boxes, and make your way to the trash can outside to put them into the recycling bin. On your walk back inside you see your neighbors in the front yard, and you wave to them with a quick smile. You make a mental note to go over and introduce yourself now that you were home to do so.

The sun is setting rapidly, the house growing dark. The dark paint on the walls further darkened each room. It was moody, and gothic. Everything you ever wanted in a home. A place that was truly yours.

You step into your front door, and turn on the small lamp that sits at the entryway. You make your way through the first level of the house turning on various lamps, so that when she does get home, she doesnt stumble over all of the boxes and clutter. You walk back to the book shelf in the living room, grabbing a book that caught your eye earlier. You had bought it to read on tour, but it was always so loud on the bus, you never got a chance. You head up the stairs into the loft, and position yourself on the plush leather couch, finding a comfortable position. But as soon as you crack the book open you realize the readers you so desperately need are downstairs in your bedroom.

With a grumble you stand up with your book, making your way back down the stairs. Stepping into your bedroom you see them sitting on the dresser, and you put them on, flopping yourself down onto the fluffy white sheets. The soft orange glow of the streetlight pours in through your large bedroom window. But the light is not enough for you to legibly make out the letters on the pages. You reach over and turn on your lamp, letting it turn the room a soft amber. Opening the first page you are instantly sucked in, and find the time passing quickly.

Six chapters in you feel your phone buzz on the bed. When you see her name flash across the screen you quickly open it. ‘Be home soon’. Eliciting an audible “Finally.” from your lips.

You get up and walk to the bathroom, turning on the shower to let it get hot. Steam begins to fill the small master bathroom as you strip down. You grab a towel from the linen closet and then step into the scalding hot water. Letting the water run down your back you wet your hair before lathering in the fancy shampoo she insists you start using, which you will admit smells pretty good.

You scrub your body with her favorite body wash, hoping to entice her further. Trying to keep it short you rinse yourself and turn off the water. Wrapping yourself in the clean towel.

You step out of the bathroom and into the bedroom, looking outside the large picture window that sits directly behind your bed. Yet another thing you loved about this house was the grand windows. More than double the size of an average window, it filled the rooms with plenty of natural light. You insisted that you not cover the windows with any blinds or curtains, letting as much light flow into the house as possible. You lived on a quiet street, so you never really thought about what people might see in the dark of the night, but if you were being completely honest, it didn't matter to you if they did.

You stand in front of the floor length mirror and as you button the few buttons on your shirt. You hear her car pull into the driveway and you can't help the smile that crosses your face. Running your fingers through your damp hair, you hang your towel on the back of the bathroom door, and make your way into the kitchen, to uncork a bottle of wine.

HER POV

Placing your key in the front door, you peer into the glass and see the glow of lamp light scattered throughout the house. You twist the key in the lock and push the door open. It’s quiet other than the sound of a record spinning on the turntable in the living room. The soft crackle of the vinyl is homey, and always reminds you of Jake. You can smell his body wash in the air, and you know he must have just showered.

“Jake?” you call out for him.

“In the kitchen my love.” he replies, and you hear the clinking together of glass stemware.

He always knows what I need…

Your legs carry you into the kitchen, your body naturally gravitating towards him.

You see him standing at the kitchen counter, graciously pouring the dark red wine into the glasses, before placing the bottle onto the wooden countertop.

He grabs a glass and extends it out to you, as his eyes meet yours, “My love?”

You accept the glass and sip it slowly, tasting the selection of the evening.

“Hi baby, you smell good.” you say, taking another small sip. “This is good, is this one of the bottles from Italy?”

“It is, I figured we could enjoy it together. I loved it when I had it then, and knew I had to bring some home to you.” he replies, picking up the bottle to hand it to you.

You inspect the label, in all Italian of course, running your fingers over the embossed paper.

“You have good taste Mr. Kiszka.” you say, setting down the bottle. His hand finds your waist and circle around you, lacing his fingers together to hold you close to him.

“I like to think so…” he says, craning his face dangerously close to yours.

“You want to tell me why you needed me so badly today?” you ask, a whisper against his lips.

He lets out a small laugh, a smile playing upon his lips, “Well, I haven’t gotten to see you all week. I missed you. I am missing you. I need you. I can’t live without you a second longer.” he says, his words sending goosebumps across your skin.

His lips press to yours, the taste of the wine still lingering on his tongue. You can feel the urgency in his kiss and you know deep down you want him just as badly as he wants you.

You pull away, “Jake…I missed you too.” you whisper, returning your lips back to his. You can feel the transfer of energy between the two of you, both of you craving more of each other. His hands start to move, finding their way under your top, ridding your body of the pale blue fabric.

Your hands reach into the unbuttoned section of his shirt, the way you like it, placing your hands on his chest. You slide them upward to tangle into the bottom of his still damp hair. The smell of him wafting into your nose is an intoxicating high.

A growl leaves his throat as he parts his lips from yours. He takes you by the hand and leads you to the bedroom. You walk over to the bed and sit on the edge, letting the fluffy white sheets entice you. You lay back letting them puff up around your arms and you release a deep sigh. When Jake returns to you, he is sans shirt, leaving his silver necklace as the only adornment to his body perfect body.

He crawls over top of you, hovering his face above yours. His necklace swings between the two of you, a shiny reminder of you he wears daily.

“Why don’t you show me what you wanted me to come home for today.” you say playfully.

“It would be my pleasure darling.” he says, pulling the cups of your bra down leaving your bare chest exposed to the cool air of the room. Your nipples harden in response. He rubs his thumb over the taught buds, the look of lust in his eyes drowning out the brown irises.

“Jake….touch me.” you beg.

At your command his lips attach to your chest as his hands work to rid you of your pants. He works them down your legs as you kick them off onto the floor. You reach between you to grab his hardened dick through the cotton of his boxers. He groans as you wrap your hand around him and stroke him through the fabric.

He pulls away from you long enough to take his boxers off, letting his dick spring free. You sit up off the bed and remove your bra, tossing it to the floor. You stand up and spin him around, having him sit on the edge of the bed. You make your way to your knees below him as your hand finds his base and gently begins to tug upward on his throbbing length.

He watches down on you as you take him in your mouth. He throws his head back at the sensation and you look up to see his adam's apple bobbing in his throat. He groans loudly and you feel the wetness pooling at your core.

You’ve seen this look on his face before. In fact a lot of people have. It’s the same look as when he hits a note perfectly at the end of a solo. It's his look of euphoria.

You wrap your lips firmly around his cock and you begin to work him, showing him just how much you missed him. When you flick your eyes up to his however, he isn’t looking at you. He is looking at himself.

The floor length mirror is situated against the corner of the wall facing the bed. He has the best view in the house of what is transpiring. You feel his cock twitch as he watches himself receive what he has been dying for all day. You know he likes to watch himself on stage but this is what really gets him off. Twisting your wrist with each flick of your tongue you feel him start to twitch in the back of your throat.

He moans loudly as you pick up the pace, swirling your tongue around his sensitive tip. His breathing starts to become erratic as he nears his finish.

“Baby, I’m gonna cum. Let me cum on your tits.” he begs.

You nod your head as he forces himself further down your throat and you feel the familiar twitching as he pulls himself from your mouth, grasping his own length and stroking himself rapidly as he watches himself in the mirror. His breathing is quick and ragged and a drawn out curse falls from his lips as his release shoots out, painting your chest in hot white ropes. His eyes never leaving the vision of the two of you in the mirror. He throws his head back again in a similar fashion as he struggles to catch his breath. Chest heaving with each breath, sweat running down his neck.

When his gaze finally returns to you he watches as you collect his cum with your fingers, licking them clean.

“Jesus Christ that was hot.” he says, taking your hand and helping you stand. He pulls you by the hand to fall on top of him, as he rolls you to be underneath him. The flicker of desire in his eyes growing to constant glow.

He slides down your body, grabbing the hem of your panties in his fingers and sling them off your legs. His fingers slide through your slit, collecting your wetness before he brings them to his mouth.

A groan leaves his chest as he tastes you. “It has been too long. I need you.” he begs, pressing wet kisses to your stomach.

“So have me.” you reply.

You grab his length and align him with your center, as you feel his tip press against your core.

Lights flash into the room as a car turns the corner of your street.

“Wait Jake, the window.” you say.

“What about it?” he asks, pressing into you.

You moan as he fills you completely, and through strangled breaths you reply, “The window, someone will see us.”

He looks down at you, and smiles, “I know. Let em’ watch. Watch me claim whats mine.” he says, fucking into you hard enough to ellicit a scream from your chest.

His necklace swings like a pendulum quickly between your bodies as his pace quickens. The tips of his hair are damp with sweat as they brush over his shoulders. You whine beneath him as he hits your g spot with ease.

“Feel good baby? You like it when I fuck you so everyone can see?” he asks.

You moan at the thought of it. Something you never considered. With how much he likes to watch himself, you never thought about him getting off to others watching. Maybe that is part of why he looks so good on stage. He is enjoying other people watching him experience pleasure. A surge of wetness pools between your legs as he pulls out and flips you to your stomach. You push yourself up onto all fours as he smacks your ass.

“Turn around baby, look at yourself in the mirror.” he demands.

You spin around to face the mirror, shuddering at the vision of yourself in the compromising position.

“Don’t look away, you’re fuckin gorgeous. I can’t take my eyes off of you.” he says.

He finds his place behind you, and slowly pushes into you, his hip bones pressing deeply into your ass. He groans as you squeeze your walls around him.

“Fuck, do that again.” he asks, and so you squeeze around him as you meet his eyes in the mirror.

“Exactly, baby. Watch me fuck you. Look at how good you make me feel. I’m yours. You fuckin own me.” he says, returning to his regular pace behind you as his hair bobs around his shoulders with each thrust.

As you watch him you start to understand why he likes it. It is kind of hot to watch. It feels almost wrong. A set of headlights flash across the mirror as you see a car pass the window through the reflection in the mirror.

As it passes you feel Jake’s dick twitch inside of you. You understand now why he was so adamant about the placement of the mirror when you set up the bedroom. This is what he wanted. He wanted to be able to watch himself, and watch the window. He wanted to see if anyone was watching him. He wanted to see everything, from all angles.

“You like that Jakey? You like the idea of people watching you fuck?” you ask, panting through each word.

“Fuck yeah I do. Want everyone to see what’s mine. You’re fuckin mine.” he says, punctuating each sentence with a forward thrust.

You know any passerby is in for the show of their lives, especially since the room is lit by the small lamp on his bedside table. Giving all the meaning to the words ‘picture window’. And what a pretty picture it would be. Thankfully it is late, but East Nashville doesn’t sleep, so the chance is never zero.

As he hits that spot inside, you moan his name. With a few more thrusts he is getting close, you can tell by the movement of his hips. You can feel your walls contracting around him in return.

“Cum for me angel, let everyone see how pretty you are when you cum for me. Show them who you belong to.” he says.

You toss your head back as your release washes over you, leaving you shaking beneath him. His name pouring from your lips like the sweet Italian wine.

With one more thrust he is releasing into you, with forceful grunts. “Fuck….” he breathes out.

He pulls out of you, watching his release drip down your leg. “So fucking perfect. I love you so much.”

You stand and make your way to the bathroom as you tell him you love him too.

You clean yourself up and return to him, laying there still breathing heavily. The glint of the silver metal around his neck reflects on his chest with the rise and fall of each breath. You cuddle up next to him as he turns off his lamp and releases a relaxed sigh. As you both lay there in the darkness you whisper, “Jake?”

“Yeah baby…” he replies.

“I love where you put the mirror.” you say.

You can hear the smile in his voice, “Me too, baby. Me too.”

tiny tiny taglist: @gretavansara @jordierama @starshine-wagner @gretavanfvckface @gretavanmoon @gvfjess @misshunnybee @fretaganvleet @gvfpal @joshkiszkas @ascendingtostardust @raviolilegs

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alsjeblieft-zeg · 1 year

Text

474 of 2022

The Letter Y (True or False)

Created by joybucket

You played with yo-yos when you were younger. 🪀 You attended a church youth group when you were in high school. ⛪️ You're the youngest child in your family. You have a younger brother. You have a younger sister. You have a Yahoo email account. ....but it's not the main one you use. You know how to yodel. You like the song "So Yesterday" by Hilary Duff. You like Yo Mama jokes. You own a yardstick. You've had a yard sale. You own a Yamaha motorcycle. 🏍 You own a Yamaha drum set. 🥁 You've been to Yosemite National Park. 🌋 You've never been to Yosemite National Park. 🏞 ...but you want to go. You like the song "Yearn" by Shane & Shane. Your favorite color is yellow. ☀️ You're wearing something yellow right now. You like the color school bus yellow. 🚌 You were on the yearbook staff in school. 📕 You own all of your high school yearbooks. You've signed someone else's yearbook. You've had someone sign your yearbook. You've paid for something with yen. 💴 You've been to Yukon Territory. 🇨🇦 You like the name Yori. You can't remember what you wore yesterday. You've met someone with the last name Yousef. You've been on a yacht. 🛥 You own a bag of yarn. 🧶 You make New Year's resolutions. You remember last the New Year's resolution you made. ...and you've kept it. You just yawned. 🥱 You don't know the meaning of the word "yuppify." You've been to Ypsilanti, Michigan. You've never been to Yemen. 🇾🇪 ....or Yuma, Arizona. ....or Yakima, Washington. ....or Yonkers, New York. ...or Yuba City, California. ....or Yukon, Oklahoma. ...or Youngstown, Ohio. ....or Yorba Linda, California. ...or Yazoo City, Mississippi. You've had a Yorkshire Terrier for a pet. You've been to New York City. 🏙 You're young. You don't feel young anymore. You wish you could be young and free again. You look younger than you actually are. Your name ends in "Y." You like yams. You've had a yellow lab for a pet. 🦮 You own a yellow dress. You own a yellow shirt. You own a yellow scarf. You've recently said, "Yikes!" 😱 You've had a cat that liked to play with yarn. 🧶 You own a yearbook with a red cover. 📕 You like to yell. You yell at people a lot. You've met someone named Yvonne. You've met someone named Yvette. You've met someone named Yasmin. You've met someone named Yasper. You used to own the Bratz doll Yasmin. 👄 Your favorite Bratz doll was Yasmin. You had the same hair color as Yasmin. You've taken the birth control pill Yaz. 💊 If you were to see a yak in the wild, you wouldn't know it was a yak. 🐂 You've never had a yak as a pet. 🐂 You've met someone named Yolanda. You've played the board game Yahtzee. 🎲 You've played Yahtzee online. 🎲 You've worn yellow eyeshadow. You've driven a yellow car. You're yearning for someone or something. You've never ridden in a yellow submarine. You grew up in a house with a big backyard. You've read the book "Divine Secrets of the Ya-Ya Sisterhood." 📖 You like the song "Anything but Yellow" by Haley Mae Campbell. You've never worn an itsy-bitsy teeny-weeny yellow polka-dot bikini. ....but you have listened to the song about one. You know the meaning of the word "yuletide" without looking it up. You're a Yooper. You hate it when people mix up "your" and "you're." You've posted in the "Yum or Yuck" tread in the forums. You think olives are yucky. 🫒 You think beans are yucky. 🫘 You think chili is yucky. You think beets are yucky. 🔴 You think pickles are yucky. 🥒 You think pie is yummy. 🥧 You think chocolate is yummy. 🍫 You think cheese is yummy. 🧀 You think cake is yummy. 🍰 You think salads are yummy. 🥗 You think strawberries are yummy. 🍓 You think bananas are yummy. 🍌 You think pineapple is yummy. 🍍 You enjoyed this survey..

#survey #bolding survey #themed survey #alphabet survey

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spshipstats · 5 months

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Are you curious about what South Park ships other people in the fandom know about and how they feel about them?

I've been thinking a lot about how varied the SP fandom's shipping culture is, so I made this! It's a survey containing every single SP ship I've seen in art, or fic, or just heard people talking about (every single ship between the kids, that is). If you have the time, please help me by taking and sharing the survey! I'll be posting results from time to time on this blog.

Additional information below the cut, but feel free to contact this blog if you have any further questions.

Anticipatory FAQs

Is this anonymous?

Yes. There is no place you’re asked to give your name/username, this survey is not collecting emails, and you don’t even have to sign into Google to do it. It’s totally anonymous so please answer as truthfully as you’d like.

What’s this for? / Why are you doing this?

The pursuit of knowledge! South Park is such a huge fandom with so many ships and the fandom's opinion and knowledge have shifted dramatically over the years. I just want to see where it’s at right now. Also I like procrastinating real world responsibilities by making consequenceless projects for myself.

Why are the ships listed in the order that they are?

When writing this all out, I wrote down individual characters and the ships they’re a part of. I started with Stan (arguably the main character of the show) and then went from there. When a character didn’t have a ton of ships by themself, I grouped them with other characters. The ships were inserted into the survey alphabetically but I’ve set the survey to randomize the question order so there’s as little bias as possible.

“OP how dare you not include [insert your OTP I didn’t include here]”

My deepest apologies for forgetting a pairing. I did my best to think up every single ship I’ve ever seen included in fics or depicted in fanart or discussed by people. There is a final question where you may make me aware of one (1) ship you didn’t see. This survey is already a behemoth though, so I don’t think I’ll go back and insert any additional pairings unless a lot of people suggest one particular ship. Same thing for any poly ships and ships between the South Park parents/adults (the latter may get its own poll if I find the inspiration).

Can I post this to [other social media sites/Discord group chats /anywhere]?

Please do! Getting accurate results for a survey like this requires a large crowd. I actively encourage and ask you to please share this with your friends and followers wherever you can. You could even pretend you made the survey for whatever twisted reason. I don’t care, I’ll still get the data I want.

#south park #sp #sp fandom #south park fandom #sp ships #south park ships #sp stan #sp kyle #sp cartman #sp kenny #sp girls #catg #sp goth kids #hellpark #sp foreign kids

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sadesluvr · 6 months

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William afton nsfw alphabet from the movie please

William Afton / Steve Raglan - NSFW Alphabet

A/N: Thanks for the request! This was interesting as I wasn't feeling him at first but I've slowly been converted ... Slowly! Some of these were insipired by @hoshikoe ! 🫣

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

Depending on what mood he’s in and the dynamic of your relationship, he can either be very warm and intimate, or quite dismissive.

B = Body part (Their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

His hands. They’re big, they’re powerful, and they’ve done unspeakable things, murderous or sexual. Yours are small compared to him, and it makes him feel like a God. On his partner he’s a thigh and ass man, he loves to rub and grab them and leave them raw from his manhandling…

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum, basically)

Likes cumming in you because of the power aspect, but definitely does not want kids! Cumming all over your face after a blowjob is like crack to him, especially when it drips down your chin and he makes you lick it off his fingers. Also likes to see it trickle down your thighs or ass.

D = Dirty Secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He’s given you a plushie with a camera in, and is constantly surveying you. Likes watching you undress, masturbate, even have sex with other people without you knowing. Even mundane things like music choices, he’ll play a song that you like when you're around and chalk it down to a ‘coincidence’…

E = Experience (How experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

He’s VERY experienced, and loves that you’re inexperienced compared to him. If you’re a virgin he loves it even more, and he promises to be your teacher - Just do exactly what he says ;)

F = Favorite position (This goes without saying)

The Lotus - Having you in his lap where he can hold you down and use your lower body as he pleases is his vice, and it’s a position that works anywhere - In his office, at home, in a car, wherever. The Eagle in second as he loves watching your boobs bounce with every thrust as he chokes you.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment? Are they humorous? etc.)

Not goofy at all. He takes sex very seriously, and it’s one of the few times he can be ‘himself’ - Ruthless and dominant.

H = Hair (How well groomed are they? Does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

A significant amount of hair, but it’s not too wild as he keeps it trimmed (when he feels like it). Has a greying happy trail…

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

It depends on his mood and your relationship. If he was married/dating you he’d tell you how beautiful you are and how much he ‘loves’ you (whether he can feel it or not), but if you’re having an affair/forbidden relationship he’s less cuddly and sluts you out.

J = Jack off (Masturbation headcanon)

Loves jerking off, even if he has you. He does it to his secret footage of you, or will call you into his office/bedroom and make you watch him until he cums. Intense eye contact. If he hasn’t fucked in a while then his loads are heavy, otherwise they’re a normal amount.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

He is KINKY. Off the top of my head - Power play, dom/sub, role play, light BDSM, cucking (with him as the bull), phone sex, corruption and age differences (not p3dophilic adjacent). Bring it up and he’ll probably try it.

L = Location (Favorite places to do the do)

His office. The risk of someone walking in is a turn on, and it’s convenient for him as he can keep his *real* life private.

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

It’s not explicitly sexual, but someone who is shy/introverted/naïve. He loves the idea of building you up with compliments and attention yet breaking you down so that you become obsessed with him - Feeding in to his love for power play and corruption. Outside of this, short skirts/tight fitting clothes/glossy lips always get him going.

N = No (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Piss/scat play. Incest stuff (Stepcest is a grey area). Letting you be dominant.

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Receiving. He’ll happily give it (as long as you’re in 69 or to get you to experiment with oral sex if you’re a virgin) but nothing beats the image of you between his legs. He likes losing control and facefucking you.

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

He always starts of slow and sensual, but he always loses control and fucks you like a ragdoll.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Loves them. He’s a horny old man and will get it when he wants and whenever he can. The different locations and risk of being caught turns him on.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment? Do they take risks? etc.)

He’s a literal serial killer, risk taking is in his blood. He will experiment with everything regardless of location or kink as long as he’s in control.

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for? How long do they last?)

He’s got great stamina for a man his age, so he can last for an average of 3 rounds, but it depends on the intensity of your session.

T = Toys (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

Yes, probably only something simple like a vibrator or a nipple clamp. His cock is his favourite toy, and prefers the power of him being the only thing that can make you cum. Doesn’t use any on himself.

U = Unfair (How much they like to tease)

A BIG TEASE, ESPECIALLY WHEN IT PLAYS INTO HIS POWER/DANGER KINK. Will touch your panties under your skirt at a restaurant/when working or brush past you ‘accidentally’. If you tease him, you will be punished.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Depends on the situation - If you’re having a secret relationship, he’s good at being quiet, but if not/you’re alone, he’s vocal, but not loud. Says dirty things in your ear and grunts when he finishes.

W = Wild card (A random headcanon for the character)

He has a cucking kink. Would cuck his wife and your boyfriend…(Not naming names👀)

X = X-ray (Let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Slightly over average in length and girth; but nothing dramatic. At the end of the day he knows how to use it!

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

HORNY AS FUCK. Like a teenager. Will take you anywhere and everywhere. He basically has no boundaries.

Z = Zzz (How quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Depends on the situation. Can fall asleep pretty quickly at home but has intimacy issues so he might get up and do something after. If you’re in a forbidden/taboo relationship he’ll just leave, sorry.

#william afton #steve raglan #fnaf x reader #william afton x reader smut #william afton smut #steve raglan smut #florence_nomachine #my asks #william afton x reader #steve raglan x reader #florence writes!!

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kataraslove · 4 months

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send me a ship and I’ll tell you: kataang version (series of headcanons because i miss them)

Who doodles little hearts all over the desk with their initials inside them: there’s literally an atla comic of aang doing that, but with the two of their symbols:

that being said, since katara is a hopeless romantic, i always headcanon her doing that. in an au where katara & aang don’t get together until they’re much older, i can imagine master katara doodling in between the margins, trying to deal with all of the feelings that she has always had for her best friend (and failing).

Who starts the tickle fights: absolutely aang. he’s a menace who wants to see katara burst into laughter and have fun more than anything.

Who starts the pillow fights: katara!!! she’s got a very competitive spirit and will instigate as many pillow fights as possible against her airbender husband.

Who falls asleep last, watching the other with a small affectionate smile: when they’re children, katara does (it’s canon). however, when they grow up and start sharing a bed, aang does.

Who mistakes salt for sugar: neither. they’re both canonically good cooks. and aang’s got such a sweet tooth that he could never mess that up.

Who lets the microwave play the loud beeping sound at 1am in the morning: i feel like with three children they’ve learned the art of their NOT waking up their kids. instead, it’s their children that play the loud beeping sound in the middle of the night when they’re sleeping in a modern au.

Who comes up with cheesy pick up lines: aang!!! baby you’re my forever girl, anyone?

Who rearranges the bookshelf in alphabetical order: katara!!!

Who licks the spoon when they’re baking brownies: both!!!

Who buys candles for dinners even though there’s no special occasion: katara, i feel like even though she’s very good at budgeting, she can’t resist a good scented candle. but i also can see aang as the type to just randomly buy stuff upon impulse for a romantic atmosphere.

Who draws little tattoos on the other with a pen: katara draws on aang :D she fills up the parts of his skin that aren’t inked. eventually, he gets some of her master pieces tattooed on him.

Who comes home with a new souvenir magnet every time they go on vacation: um aang!!!! he’s a magnet collector in my headcanons.

Who convinces the other to fill out those couple surveys in the back of magazines: katara. she’s obsessed with those things.

#kataang #atla #avatar the last airbender #katara #aang

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kingofthering · 6 months

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motogp rpf survey - results (part two)

I asked people about the fics they would recommend everyone to read in this fandom and I would like to say : people delivered.

This post is divided in 5 sections :

the top 3

authors

rosquez fics

every other pairing fics

a couple of words about tumblr fics

✨ for the number of mentions, lists ranked by number of mentions and then alphabetically.

3 fics were mentionned 5 times, which I believe make them official must read of the fandom :

All I Wanted (marc marquez/valentino rossi)

quiero enseñarte lo que te has estado perdiendo (jorge lorenzo/dani pedrosa)

solar power (marc marquez/valentino rossi)

A couple of authors were mentioned for all their works :

Lunarieen ✨✨✨✨

supernaturalsun ✨✨✨✨

Agnst_crrnt ✨✨✨

appalachianpie ✨✨✨

montecarlos ✨✨

cave_leporem

Jean____Ralphio

malu

zjemciciastko

As expected since they are the most dominant pairing in this fandom, the survey received quite a number of Rosquez recs :

In a world that just gave me joy ✨✨✨

shores of forgiveness ✨✨✨

I'll meet judgment by the hounds ✨✨

Giulietta

Good times for a change

hook you with a brand new high

i can’t make it go away by making you a villain

I'm not afraid of anyone but I'm always afraid [series]

no et facis tant el fort (aviam si acabaras perdent les forces) [series]

See how we hang on

Sepang, 833 ab urbe condita

And now onto the other ships, which were also very appreciated.

a few leaps of faith (marc marquez/fabio quartararo/valentino rossi) ✨✨✨

A long way to go [series] (marc marquez/fabio quartararo) ✨✨✨

High Infidelity (andrea dovizioso/marc marquez) ✨✨✨

Love Is Gold (jorge lorenzo/dani pedrosa) ✨✨✨

(tell the world) all I wanted to hear (jorge lorenzo/dani pedrosa) ✨✨

Corrida [series] (jorge martin/fabio quartararo) ✨✨

how many things do you think about before you get to me? (pecco bagnaia/fabio quartararo) ✨✨

Laundry Service (aleix espargaro/jorge martin) ✨✨

The mountains, the lake and the mist (alex marquez/mick schumacher) ✨✨

bikini porn (marco bezzecchi/luca marini)

Hooking Up Is Hard (jorge lorenzo/marc marquez)

now i sit by my window and i watch the cars (marco bezzecchi/celestino vietti)

Six Months (alex marquez/dani pedrosa)

snow white (marco bezzecchi/celestino vietti)

Speak or die (pecco bagnaia/marco bezzecchi)

special occasion (jack miller/maverick viñales)

Wet Race - Sepang (various)

And lastly, because I've also been enjoying them and thought they were important too, mentions of tumblr fics and headcanons :

All the one off @f1vegas stories about Bezz x cele. @babynflames Bezz x cele bodyswap au. Dr. @baking-soda's many thoughts on Rosquez. @pgaslys' tattoo artist bezz x cele au. @whatwepostintheshadows carnivorous circuits is my favourite big brain idea.

To be honest, I haven't found many fics on ao3 that I'm in love with! I've really been enjoying Tumblr headcanons/AUs/fics (shoutout @restacks and @baking-soda)

#motogp #rpf #marc marquez #valentino rossi #and others #motogprpfsr #motogp rpf survey #I don't know if that took more or less time to do than I expected but here we are #you can judge me for putting my own fics and name I do deserve that but I live for validation and shit I'm sorry #will tag everyone again when I post part three #which I'm not sure how to present yet

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lena-in-a-red-dress · 5 months

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Dracula AU, Pt 3

Lena's anxiety lessens only slightly when Kara assures her that no one was hurt. When Kara lifts her hand to unlock the cell, Lena halts.

"Don't." Bitterness grinds like glass in her throat. "We don't know it won't happen again."

Tears of helplessness glitter in Lena's eyes. It's been weeks of this, each day eroding her sense of reality. And now she's imprisoned, trapped in a cell with none of the contact that had served to ground her even slightly.

"I don't know what to do," Lena confesses, her voice cracking helplessly. Her tears spill onto her cheeks. "Kara..."

"We'll figure it out," Kara vows. "We always do."

And this time, they have to.

----

Trapped in her cell, there's little for Lena to do but sleep. After weeks of torment, she's exhausted, and with nothing to keep her busy she slips into uneasy sleep. But this time, she dreams.

She treads through thick mist, heavy and cloying in her throat. It disorients her, so much so that it takes her several moments to realize what she's looking at when the mist parts to reveal a dark, unfamiliar chamber.

It's several moments later that she realizes her body is not her own. Her limbs feel heavy, her motions clunky as she turns to survey the space around her. When she sees a crumpled heap of a body, clearly dead, in a shadowy corner, she knows exactly what's happening.

The mind sharing goes both ways.

"I'm in the sewer," she says aloud, recognizing the echo of flowing water bouncing against the stone walls. Her words hiss behind unfamiliar teeth and lips. She can only hope that the words travel across the link to her own body, that Kara will not only hear her, but remember.

She narrates all that she sees. A dilapidated crate to one side, with an ancient book sitting atop it with tattered pages in plain view. She doesn't recognize the language printed on them, but the letters are reminiscent of the cyrillic alphabet.

When she exhausts what's in the chamber, she ventures into the narrow passageway beyond. She needs to know where she is, but the cramped corridor gives her nothing but the stench of sewage. She wanders aimlessly, uncertain of how far she travels. She speaks her path-- a left here, a right there... until she hears the scuff of a footstep not her own.

She freezes, then ducks out of sight as a sanitation worker turns a corner at the far end of the tunnel. Lena swallows when the scent of his sweat tingles in her nose, his pulse thumping in her ears. Hunger tears at her throat, and she digs clawed fingers into the concrete wall she hides behind her, to fight the ravenous urge to feed.

No. Not just feed.

Hunt.

The man moves on quickly, unaware of her presence. Only when his scent is once again replaced by sewage does Lena release the wall, and turn the corner once more. If a worker is here, there must be a point of entry nearby.

She traces the man's path to a ladder, haloed by sunlight cascading through the open manhole above. The light sears her vision, causing her to recoil. But she grits her teeth-- her fangs-- and pushes through the pain to take one step, then another towards the light.

Hope sparks in Lena's mind-- beyond learning where she might be, perhaps, just maybe, she could kill this monstrous body altogether. She might perish in the light along with it, but Lena can't bring herself to care. It's time to end this.

Almost as soon as the thought forms in her mind, another presence uncurls in her consciousness. The monster slowly wakes, a vague identity that sharpens with every step she takes. Soon, it begins to struggle for control, slowing her progress to a shuffle then a halt. Pain lances through Lena's mind as the monster's mind rails against hers.

It would be so easy to let go-- she WANTS to relinquish control, to return to the familiarity of her own body. But she fights. For every last inch, she clings to control, desperate to gain something, anything, to aid them.

Pressure builds in Lena's chest, shortening her breath. She's not going to make it to the ladder, let alone the daylight above. But just as her consciousness snaps away, she catches sight of a small placard riveted to the wall of the tunnel.

"Hayward!" she shouts, just as feels her consciousness snap away. In a blink, she's back in the Tower, safe in her cell. Chest heaving, she scrambles to her feet. "Hayward Street! Kara--!"

She whirls around, eyes wide as they meet Kara's.

Kara lifts one hand, waggling the small voice recorder held in her fingers. Kara did hear-- and reacted just the way Lena had hoped.

A grin spreads across Kara's features.

"We've got him."

#supercorp #dracula au #here yah go!#on a roll #here we go

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santoschristos · 4 months

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Thoth He is The god of writing and wisdom, knowledge and truth, Thoth, he is also known as "Lord of Time" and "Reckoner of years" as he is credited with the invention of writing the alphabet, mathematics, surveying, geometry and even botany plus he was also the record keeper of the gods.

Thoth symbolized the passage of time and the powerful magic behind the divine knowledge of words. He was the patron god of libraries, astronomers and scribes, and was a divine ally and benefactor of humanity who provided them the heavenly gift of the spoken words. He is depicted as a man with the head of an ibis holding a writing implement. He holds a highly important position between the kings as he gave them the power to maintain order on his subjects. He played a role in the weighing of the heart in the hall of truth and was able to give a nut to five days of the moonlight to give birth to original five gods.

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a-french-coconut · 1 day

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Part 2 (Will Solace)

Will wakes up tired.

The sun greets him as usual but there is... a coldness that has never been there before. No matter how much he exposes himself to the sunlight, he can't shake the feeling that he isn't receiving enough solar energy.

His father must be going to a rough time.

It's not like he needs the boost of energy the sun gives him in the morning, coffee is more than enough, but he appreciates it. He'll just have to do without.

As head counsellor and main healer, Will spends most of his time in the infirmary, sometimes helped by Austin and Kayla. However, today he is alone and growing grouchy every time a camper enters with an injury.

A sprained ankle, second degree burns, dislocated shoulder, broken arm.

Will deals with this daily, he knows how to heal any of those and without problem. And he still does.

But gods does it exhaust him.

It's not supposed to. After years of honing his skills, broken bones are not the challenge they used to be.

Except for today and it's getting on his nerves. He makes back-handed comments to those coming to the infirmary, leaving them and himself bewildered.

Sure he is not always the sunny happy-going healer Camp knows but he enjoys healing.

Something is definitely wrong with him.

It has to be the lack of sun, he doesn't see any other explanation.

He stayed in the infirmary until after dinner, taking Kayla's late night shift after her sister promised him she would do the morning one.

There's no one except him, all campers are enjoying the bonfire.

Tick tock, tick tock, tick tock

Will watches the clock, waiting until it indicates 9pm and he can get out of there and in his warm bed.

He already made all the beds, rearranged in alphabetical order all the salves and medicines in the cabinet and looked randomly in the campers' files to find some interesting facts (he finally understand why Clarisse was always in a sour mood before leaving for college : being allergic to strawberries here sucks).

Will is bored out of his mind and ready to dash out of here.

Only ten more minutes.

He takes a bandage's roll and mindlessly put in on his arms, humming a tune his mother taught him.

Eight minutes.

He shoots darts at random objets, sometimes (mostly) missing.

Four minutes.

The door opens and Miranda Gardiner walks in, looking at him strangely.

He supposes he deserves it. As last form of entertainment, he resulted to stick the most ridicules band-aids he had to his face. Maybe not the brightest idea but sue him, he was bored.

The clock chimes, indicating the sweet moment of release except he can't really say to Miranda to wait until next morning.

"Hi Miranda, how can I help you ?"

He must be rocking the professional look, Hello Kitty, Minions and Rarity adorning his face.

"Hum, my head is hurting and I'm sweating. I thought that maybe I had fever and you could check ?"

Will groans internally. If Miranda happens to have fever, she'll have to stay the night. Which implies he also has to stay to monitor her.

"Sure, let me see."

He takes her hand and concentrates.

He can feel the blood flowing in her veins, and most importantly he can feel the immune system kicking in. She does have fever.

Will's eyes twitch.

"Bad news: you have a small fever. Good news: I can just heal you and we both can return to our very comfortable, cosy, plushy, and hum, luxurious beds !"

He completes his rather convincing argument if he says so himself with a bright smile.

Miranda just looks at him with concern.

He could heal her with traditional hymns to his father but he frankly does not want to. Fever is a sickness and so he'll get rid of it much faster with his sickness powers.

A flawless logic his father would proud of.

Hey Raz, I know I never ask you anything but could you heal this girl's fever ? I really need to sleep right now and that's not happening if I have to stay up all night surveying her.

Radio silence.

Will frowns, his little own personal plague spirit always took the chance to talk.

Raz ? You there ?

Still no voice in his mind. It's silent.

Will's mind is never silent. There is always a background noise, a buzzing indicating the presence of another spirit.

A buzzing, Will realises with panic, that has not been present since he woke up this morning tired.

"Hum Will ? You good ?"

Ah yes, Miranda.

"Obviously I'm good ! I'm great even, everything's peachy and sunny and I just have to, I have to, hum, look at your file ! Yes that's it and write down your fever you know ? Because I need to keep track of what happens to you guys !"

Without waiting a response to his disastrous rambling, Will locks himself with the files.

Raz is not responding.

He's been feeling down since he woke up.

He has not been receptive to the sun as if...

As if a part of him was not there to capture the solar energy.

Oh no, no, no, no, no, this can't be happening !

There is no way he's that unlucky.

Ten years of hiding his little secret so that no one knows the wickedness he has inside him.

Ten years of suppressing every pulsing of rage and wrath, cumulating power or power doing so, until it burns below his skin, the plague begging to be released.

If he has no control anymore over Raz and she decides to cause a little chaos...

Okay relax Will, she would start with something small right ? Like a cold, a fev...

"Will everything's okay in there ?"

His eyes widens and he bolts out of the files room, surprising Miranda who is beginning to look very concern about his mental health. He looks at her straight in the eyes and with the most casualness he can muster, aks her :

"Did a little girl touch you today ?"

The daughter of Demeter seems considering now to put in an asylum.

"An unknown little girl, about five years old ? Brown eyes and braids ?" he specifies.

"Huh maybe ? But what does she have to do with my-"

"Forget it, I'm just tired and blabbering nonsense."

Fortunately she doesn't push. It would be hard to announce her that a plague spirit is wandering within Camp borders and possibly infecting everyone she touches.

He heals her quickly, burning all the energy he had left and goes back to his cabin.

He may have had a panic attack on the way but nothing he couldn't handle really.

He's fine.

Totally fine.

Raz is not going to leave his mind until he's one foot in the grave when he catches her.

part 3 posted !

#percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson #pjo #heroes of olympus #miranda gardiner #will solace has plague powers #plague will #will solace

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