#You knew what you were posting and you knew the response it would get

[burrowdarling]

Your Surprise Tattoo

Summary: You make the decision to get a tattoo and surprise Joe with it.

Pairings: boyfriend!Joe Burrow x girlfriend!reader

Requested: Yes | No

Warnings: Some steamy talk post-tattoo

Note: Heyo! A totally random idea I had that I figured could be fun to write. I haven't done a headcanon in a bit and thought this idea would be a good fit. Enjoy!

Word Count: 935

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Taglist: @burrowbarbie @definitelynotdomanique @one-sweet-gubler @plushkhiii @enchantedinfinity @iosivb9 @hellsingalucard18 @hotburreaux Feel free to comment or message me if you'd like to be added to the list!

You’d had this idea in mind for a while, something you always floated back and forth between since you were in your teens 

You’ve always taken a liking to tattoos but were unsure of exactly what you wanted to get and the right placement

Your parents always said that you had to wait until you were old enough and out of their house to do so if you ever wanted one

Over time, once you moved out, you ended up getting a few small ones scattered about your body

None too large or conspicuous 

Joe had always found the idea of tattoos cool, knowing that a majority of his teammates had them

When you first got together, he made a game out of finding the few you did have

When you told him you wanted to get another one, he didn’t mind too much

If anything it sent him down a rabbit hole of the possibilities of you with different tattoos, the placements, filling his mind with images of you

The thought did loom in his mind of what you wanted to get and where it would be, the anticipation and curiosity getting to him

You assured him it would be something hidden a majority of the time, calming a bit of his nerves to not send him into total shock when you did get it

He also secretly liked the idea of it being something that only he could see

That sent his mind reeling at the thought of you with tattoos

What would you get?

Would you want more than one?

Where were you gonna put it?

When? 

You also never told him when you were getting it, keeping to the idea of a surprise

You planned it during a time he was out of town, giving the piece some time to heal up and not be covered so he could see everything 

It was a totally ballsy move, but you figured go big or go home, and would truly test your pain tolerance

Yeah, it could be totally stupid to get something in such a sensitive area, but you really did like the way they looked

You connected with your local artist chosen and set a date, excited for what was to come

You went for a bit of a cliche back tattoo, some flowers with a butterfly that you felt would look really pretty

You knew it was basic, but it’s what made you happy so who cares

It came out exactly as you hoped it would, you were totally in love with it and had a feeling Joe would be too

It was a few days later when he arrived home, none the wiser to your newest addition to your skin

He’d come back from the facility sweaty and in need of a shower

You figured this was as good of a time as any to finally show him 

“You care if I hop in there with you?” you asked, not that this was ever anything new for you

“If I ever tell you no to an opportunity to see you naked, then you have full permission to fight me,” Joe said with a laugh

You ended up in your shared bathroom, you gathering the towels and Joe going to start the water

Here goes nothing you thought to yourself

You set the towels down on the counter and with Joe behind you, you slipped your shirt over your head

You heard a deep groan behind you quickly followed by hands wrapping around your waist

“When’d you get that done, hmm?” Joe asked, his voice heavy with curiosity and lust

“Wellll you did say that you wanted me to surprise you with it so I figured you being gone was the best time. Now I was able to show it to you when it was closer to fully healed”

Joe just groaned out another response

His mind was racing and blank all at the same time, nonverbals were his safest response

“What do you think, do you like it?” you asked, attempting to turn towards him but he held your hips firmly in place

“That’s not even a question, sweetheart”

And MY GOD did he like it

There weren’t words he could find at that moment to describe exactly how he felt about the new ink that went down your spine

His mind was too far gone elsewhere to come up with a coherent enough response to truly tell you how much he loved it

His fingers traced the edge of your tattoo trailing down your back, giving you chills down your spine at his tender touch

“Did it hurt?” he asked, feeling like he knew the obvious answer to the question

“Of course like a bitch, but I have it now and I love it” you spoke honestly, feeling your voice waiver the more he touched your skin

The room began to heat up from the steam of the hot water running behind you, forgotten about from the sight in front of him

“The shower can wait, I’m taking you right here right now”

He started to bend you over the counter, your chest pressing into the cold material while his warm hands traced delicate lines over the art on your back

You could feel his hard on through the flimsy fabric of his gym shorts making your breathing hitch

“Joe we could also do it in the shower, two birds one stone type of thing,” you said with a light laugh

“Who said there can’t be a round two?”

Joe had gotten a new appreciation for tattoos that day

[cellythefloshie]

;; Locked In    by cellythefloshie

Summary: When the NHL season is abruptly halted by a global pandemic, and you find yourself sharing your tiny apartment with your brother's rookie teammate, Quinn Hughes. Kinks & TW: Tanev Sister Reader, Forced Proximity, Secret Hook-up/Romance, 2019-2020 Season, Covid-19 Lockdown, Hints of Mild Dominance from Quinn, Mild Alcohol Consumption, Dry Humping, Vaginal Fingering, A Little Angsty (unresolved). Word Count: 4k+ A/N: I hadn't planned to post anything in January. I was just going to post my Best of 2024 and be done until February. BUT then I decided I wanted to challenge myself a little. I wanted to write for a player I thought I would never write for. AND then I was writing for a time I never thought I would write before because, of course, his rookie season had to be during the pandemic. Please be gentle with me. I took a lot of creative liberties here, but I hope you all enjoy.

“Why does he have to stay here?”

The tension in your shoulders grew as you glared up at your brother Chris. If your words hadn’t been clear enough in telling him just how displeased you were with his proposition, your body language would have to help get the point across. 

“It’s just for a few days until they get everything figured out,” Chris replied, brushing off your annoyance with a casual shrug with an ease that left a bad taste in your mouth—and it really shouldn’t have. As your big brother, he had years of practice in the art of convincing you to do things you didn’t want to do. 

Sighing, you passed Chris and at the player your brother was hoping you’d welcome into the small one-bedroom apartment you called home. Quinn Hughes, the team's rookie defenseman. Tall, and handsome, you had done your best to keep your distance from him when you had met once before—knowing yourself too well to trust that you would behave around a guy like him. 

He was shy back then and seemed just as timid as he stood awkwardly in the hallway, pretending not to hear the conversation you were having with Chris. Quinn kept his head down, his warm brown eyes locked on the floor like a sad, pound puppy that nobody wanted, with his hands shoved into the pockets of his team branded hoodie. 

Forcing a smile, your gaze focused back up on your brother, and his toothy grin that was always just enough to convince you. 

“It’s bad enough that there’s some illness going around that’s so serious that they halted the season and the world feels like it’s ending,” you began, “but now you’re locking me in my apartment with the team’s rookie?”

“I can hear you, you know?” Quinn spoke up from the hallways, his gaze raising from the floor for the first time since he had arrived. 

Your heart beat hastened, and it pounded so strongly you could feel it against the delicate flesh of your throat. It raced so quickly; you thought it might burst through your chest as a wave of heated embarrassment washed over you. 

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” you tried to play it cool, but if Quinn had reached out and felt just how sweaty your hands had become, he would know just how much of a facade it was. “Why can’t he stay with you?” You cocked your head as you brought your arms up to cross over your chest, begging him to get to the point he was trying to make. 

“The kids’ daycare is closed. Mom’s flying in before things get worse–but he’s my responsibility since we already got Petey home to Sweden and they don’t want any of the guy alone for-” Chris cut himself off, as if there was more to say but he didn’t want you to hear it. You hung on his words for a moment, ready to question him on it, but you didn’t. You knew better than to question your big brother. 

“Does mom think it’s a good idea to stick me in an apartment with him?” You challenged him in a last ditch effort to try to get out of the familial obligation of helping out your brother when he needed it. 

“What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her.” His smile grew wider as he placed Quinn’s bag down on the floor just inside the door. 

“You know,” you sighed, leaning against your door, giving Quinn just enough room to come inside, “instead of flying mom home, Quinn could have helped with the kids.” It was your final, half-serious attempt to escape the arrangement, but it only made your brother laugh. 

“Thanks, Sis,” he said simply, ignoring your every attempt to say no before he was gone, leaving you and Quinn alone in your apartment. 

You lingered by the door for a moment, your head resting against the surface as you let out a steady breath. Maybe if Chris had given you a heads up, you might have felt differently about the entire situation, but your place was in no condition for a houseguest. Dishes had piled up in the sink, your laundry was half folded on the couch, and you were in the middle of rewatching your favorite television series on Netflix as a way to avoid the hell that was going on in the world. And Quinn, he was just going to have to accept all of it. 

But only for a few days. 

With a sigh, you pushed back from the door and forced a smile. “Sorry about the mess,” you told him as you moved to the couch and gathered armfuls of clothes. “You can set yourself up on the couch. Put on anything you like. I’ll get this all out of the way.”

“Do you need a hand?” Quinn offered, and you almost flinched. You hadn’t expected him to be so nice. 

“No, no, I’m fine,” you assured, carrying the clothes into your bedroom before throwing them onto your bed. You would deal with them later. First, you would have to deal with Quinn. 

Leaving your room, you shut the door firmly behind you. “That’s my room,” you gestured to the closed door, “it’s off limits to you unless stated otherwise. Obviously, you’re in the living room, which also happens to be the kitchen and the dining room. And through there is the bathroom, and if you can manage all of that without getting lost, tomorrow I can show you where the laundry room is down the hall.”

It wasn’t much of a tour, but the apartment was small. Surely if Quinn needed anything, he would figure it out—and you wanted nothing more than to retreat and hide away from the awkward situation your brother had forced you into. Maybe it made you seem harsh—or maybe it didn’t, because Quinn met your words with a soft smile and a quiet thanks before he settled in on the sofa, making himself at home. 

“If you need anything,” you started softly, your words becoming heavy with a sigh, “just knock.”

Slowly, you slipped away into the sanctuary of your bedroom, your lips moving in a whisper of a prayer as you began to put your laundry into its place. “It’s only for a few days…”

Days turned into weeks. And as the world’s condition only seemed to worsen, necessity foiled your determination to keep Quinn at arm’s length. You could only take so much solitude in your room before the silence became unbearable. While you had movies on your laptop and video chats with your friends to keep you entertained, you needed real human contact to keep yourself from insanity. Slowly, you began to share meals together, and small talk that slowly grew beyond hockey and the relationship you had with your brothers Chris and Brandon. And to your surprise, he wasn’t the worst house guest. Quinn was self-sufficient, considerate, and–while you would never admit it to Chris–the only person keeping you from losing your mind. 

“Do you maybe want to watch a movie together, or something?” you asked him one night after dinner, your tone as casual as you could muster. 

Quinn’s attention snapped to you, shifting from his phone that lit up the surprise that overtook his features. “Yeah, sure. I can set it up. Anything you want to watch?”

You shrugged as you tucked the last of the clean dishes away. “Just put on whatever. I’ll pop some popcorn.”

Settling on the couch minutes later, you place the bowl of popcorn in the space between you. As the movie played, the distance between you and Quinn seemed to shrink with each handful. You felt the warmth of his body radiating from him, and the softness of his hands as they collided with yours on the hunt for just another handful of popcorn. It was a subtle, but unignorable touch that made your pulse quicken. 

Biting down on your lower lip, you brought your hands back to rest on your lap, and you glanced at him from the corner of your eyes. Quinn was focused on the movie, his sharp jawline tense as he enjoyed the last handful of popcorn. His eyes didn’t hold the heavy sadness they had when he had arrived at your apartment weeks ago, but seemed to have a hint of a smile in them as he laughed at one of the jokes as it played out on screen. 

You smiled softly to yourself. 

You liked his laugh, and maybe it was just the weeks of isolation consuming you, but… he wasn’t bad company at all. 

“What?” Quinn’s question sent a nervous jolt through you. He had caught you looking. 

“Nothing,” you said quickly, trying to play it cool. 

The couch shifted as Quinn turned his body away from the movie, giving his attention to you as he relaxed back against the arm of the couch. “Tell me.”

For a moment, you thought about ignoring him. That the two of you could ignore what had just happened and just get lost in the movie until the crack in your hardened facade was forgotten. But his stare left you giddy, and there was no hiding the smile that began to blossom over your features. 

“You’re not a bad guy to have around, Hughes,” you finally admitted, “and I’m glad you’re here.”

A smile, genuine smile spread across his face as he reached up to push his thick brunette hair from his eyes, “your brother thought it would be best for you–”

Your brows furrowed, your question leaving your lips in a firm question before he could continue, “I’m sorry, what?” “He didn’t want you to be alone during all of this,” Quinn explained, his voice soft and sheepish, as if he knew he shouldn’t have been telling you anything. 

You leaned back against the opposite arm of the couch, your legs coming up to spread across the cushions and dragging along his leg slowly, accidentally, until you were comfortable there. “That lying bastard,” you laughed in disbelief, “he told me you being here was for your sake!”

Quinn’s laughter joined yours, warm and contagious as it created a symphony with yours. “We’ll have to give him hell for it later… but it hasn’t been all that bad, has it?”

You shook your head slowly, a silent admission that the weeks you had spent together in forced proximity weren’t all that bad. Standing up, you moved to the fridge, finding two tall beer bottles in the back. You carried one in each hand back to the couch, offering one to him as you stood just behind him, your body leaning against the back of the couch. 

“I can think of maybe two people I’d rather be stuck here with,” you joked lightly. 

“Ouch,” Quinn teased as he twisted off the cap and took a long, satisfying sip. 

“Don’t lie,” you told him. “I know you’d rather be at home with your brothers.”

“My brothers aren’t as easy on the eyes as you are,” Quinn said quickly, without hesitation. But then his face flooded with color, and his eyes went wide. Just as quickly as his words had been said, Quinn had realized they had not just been the thoughts reserved for his head. “Let’s pretend I didn’t just say that, okay?”

You raised your brow, challenging him with a smile as you asked, “What would be the fun in that?” 

Quinn’s smile grew. 

Your brother had thrown you both into this situation. You, his sister, cooped up with him, the team’s rookie defenceman, during a global pandemic that left you both isolated and alone. What Chris had expected to happen? You didn’t know. But it was only a matter of time before the lines you had created became blurred. 

After a long, satisfying sip of beer to boost your confidence, you leaned forward and placed it down on the coffee table. Licking your lips slowly, you hesitated, your mind screaming no, but your body telling you yes, as you climbed into Quinn’s lap slowly. You seated yourself there, his lap between your thighs as you straddled him. His eyes shot wide, a quiet cough choking him as he forced back a sip of beer and silently handed the cold bottle to you. 

Leaning back carefully, you place it down next to yours, Quinn’s hands reaching out to grip carefully at your thighs to keep you from falling back. He anchored you there, in his lap, as you settled back into place carefully, your body arching further into his, stealing more and more of his space until you were a breath away from his lips. A small smile blossomed over your lips slowly, your body consumed with the giddiness of what you were about to do. Your brother would kill you for this, or Quinn, but you didn’t care. It made it all the more exciting to lean in and kiss him. 

There was a moment of hesitancy in the careful kiss of Quinn’s lips as they welcomed yours. His kiss was slow, and curious as your eyes fluttered shut and your hands came to rest on his shoulders. Your touch was a feather light fleeting touch that quickly found its way into the thick wisps of his hair as his kiss deepened with desperation. 

He kissed you like you were a glass of water, and he hadn’t had a sip in weeks. His tongue stroked your lips slowly before parting them, and you could taste the beer on his tongue as you welcomed it into your mouth. The sweet contact unleashed a hum that caused through Quinn’s body in a subtle vibration that could feel between your thighs. And suddenly, your entire body was weak, like gelatin, and craving more than just the kiss of his lips. 

“Quinn,” you whined against his lips, your hips moving in slow rotations over his lap, grinding your core against his cock that you hoped to coax into an erection. 

“Fuck,” he groaned, breaking the kiss for the first time as he threw his head back. Quinn’s touch left where he held you firmly at the back of your thighs, dragging upwards until they settled on your hips and encouraged your every movement. 

You watched as his face melted into a soft expression that you couldn’t quite place, his mouth agape and his eyes shut as he focused on the very feeling of you. And between your legs, you could feel the stiffness of his cock, hard and ready. Reaching down, your fingers fumbled to work him free of his pants, but the quick lurch of his one hand captured both of yours in his hold. 

You looked up at him, your eyes wide in shock as he guided your hands to the waistband of your pants carefully. 

“Take those off,” he told you, his words firm and far from a suggestion, “and go to your room.”

Holy fuck. You had never been someone who liked to be told what to do, but in that moment, Quinn could have told you to do anything and you would have done it. 

Standing slowly, you stood between his knees as she remained seated on the couch. Your eyes fixated on his features, worried that if you had let them wander down out of curiosity, you might moan. As you held your breath, your hands pushed down at the waist of your pants, you pushed them down—and your panties went with them. 

They remained in a heap on the floor, your toes tripping over them slightly as you began the agonizing walk to the bedroom. With every stride you could feel your own wetness dripping down the inside of your thighs, your core begging to be filled. And as you got to your bedroom, you froze, your legs pressed firm together as you waited. His footsteps didn’t fill the silence. Quinn wasn’t following you. 

Your heartbeat pounded in your ears, your flesh suddenly red hut and sent a shimmer with a sheen of sweat. Quinn was still in the living room, his thoughts entirely his own as you waited, near panicked, for him to join you. 

Standing with your back to the door, your eyes shut as you took deep breaths in an attempt to remain calm. Maybe you had been too forward. He wasn’t interested—or maybe he wasn’t as reckless as you and wasn’t ready to throw away a good relationship with his teammate by fucking his teammate’s sister. 

“Fuck,” you cursed to yourself, ready to accept the mistake you had just made. 

Reaching for your blanket, you had intended to wrap it around your waist and retreat back into the living room with an apology, but when you turned around, Quinn was standing in your doorway. 

His steps were slow as he entered your bedroom for the first time since he had arrived two weeks prior. Quinn wasted no time getting familiar with his surroundings. He only had eyes for you as he met you where you stood frozen at the foot of your bed. Quinn’s arms wrapped around you in a careful bear-hug, drawing your body flush with his as his lips found yours in a kiss that reassured you that your advances had been welcome. 

You moaned against his lips as he lay you out on your bed with an effortless strength and splayed your legs open wide. Quinn could have settled himself in between them, but instead, he lay down at your side, your one leg propped up against him. He stroked at the delicate flesh of your inner thigh slowly as he kissed you. His touch moved up only an inch at a time, teasing you as he encroached on the apex of your thighs. He left your body shuddering with anticipation, his hand hovering over your eagerness but void of his touch when you knew he was so close to where you wanted him. 

“Please don’t make me beg,” you muttered against his lips. 

It had been weeks since you had anyone touch you, and when he had become your unexpected house guest, he was the last person you thought you would welcome into your bed. But now that you had him there, you wanted all of him, or as much of himself as he was willing to give you. 

First, you felt him smile against your lips, a hum of a laugh coursing through him, and then you felt his fingers on your clit. 

Your teeth grit in a satisfied hiss, your hips raising to meet his touch with an eagerness that was out of your control. Your heels dug down into the bed, your hips rolling into every careful circular stroke he made before his fingers dipped down, feeling the slick of your arousal and plunged into your core. 

“Quinn,” you gasped out, your hips dropping into a downward angle to welcome his fingers into your core. 

His middle and ring finger worked you in quick thrusts that left your mind dizzy and your movements purely instinctive as you anchored yourself to your bed with the grasp of your hand and bucked your hips up into his hand just to feel more of him. Quickly, you were so embarrassingly close to coming, and it left you reeling as you looked up at him with pleading eyes. 

“Are you going to-” you started, your body trying to roll on top of him in a swift movement that was interrupted by the careful push of his free hand against your hip. Quinn pushed you back to laying flat against the bed, one hand still buried in your core while the other held you down at the hips. The angle he worked you into, paired with how his fingers curled at just the right spot as they worked you, sent a fire burning through you. Your arousal coated his fingers, dripping down over his palm and making a mess of the bed as pleasure pulsed through you. It left you moaning, your head thrown back against the mattress as your core clenched around his fingers, wishing that it was his cock. 

As you lay in your bed, panting, you tried to remember the last time you let someone do something as adolescent as getting you off with nothing more than their fingers. But your mind was fogged by the bliss of your climax—but one thought hung low over you, preventing you from enjoying it fully. Quinn hadn’t gotten to enjoy releasing himself. 

Rolling over slowly, you tried to reach out for his waistband again, but he caught your hand. Your gaze met his, his eyes soft, and his smile small as he stroked the back of your hand with his thumb slowly. 

“You didn’t get to-” You started, but he cut you off. 

“I know,” he said, his hand bringing your hand to his lips to place a gentle kiss on your palm—a small attempt at a distraction from how his cock still seemed to throb in the confines of his pants. “But let’s sleep on it, okay? Make sure you don’t regret this in the morning. I mean, your brother is my teammate, after all.”

“Oh,” you sounded softly, trying to hide your disappointment behind understanding, “yeah, okay. But ah- can you stay in here with me tonight?” You requested slowly, “I don’t want to sleep alone anymore-”

Quinn nodded slowly, leaning in to place a kiss on your forehead. “I can do that, anything to get away from sleeping on that damn couch–”

The morning sunlight filtered weakly through the curtains, casting long shadows across the table as you sat across from Quinn. It was the first morning since he had arrived that it felt like you weren’t walking on eggshells. It was a quiet, comfortable affair, yet there was a new tension in the air. One that you couldn’t quite place. Maybe he was regretting what had happened. That thought alone left your stomach in your throat as you poked at your breakfast, trying to find the will to take the first bite. 

Then, breaking the silence, Quinn found the courage to speak. “I’m allowed to fly back to Michigan, to be with my family until the season resumes.”

Your grasp on your fork tightened, his words hitting you like a slap to the face. You could feel your face wanting to fall into a scowl, but you did your best to mask it by taking a long sip of your drink as you sought composure. 

So that was it. After weeks of shared solitaire, an awkward beginning that turned into something that felt natural, he was leaving? Just like that?

“That’s great,” you said, forcing a smile. “When do you leave?”

“Tomorrow morning,” he answered. 

You could feel his gaze on your face, searching for the reaction you refused to give him. Instead, you let your features soften, a practiced smile on your features as you set your fork down on the table with deliberate care. “I won’t keep you then. You’ve got some packing to do. The last thing you need is a distraction.”

Pushing your chair back, you abandoned your place on the table, your breakfast unfinished, and moved towards your bedroom. Your footsteps were quick, your eyes fixated on your bedroom door, and they did not deviate from it. Not even as Quinn’s voice followed you, your name leaving his lips in a gentle plea, “Please wait, can we talk about this?”

His words didn’t stop you. You didn’t turn around; you didn’t look back at him. Instead, your hand just tightened into your fist at your side as you reached the threshold of your doorway. There, you lingered for a moment, your flexed hand reaching up to rest against the door frame. You could feel Quinn’s eyes on your back, and your lips parted as if to say something–a sharp retort, a clever quip, anything to fill the silence–but no words came. 

Only a quivering breath left your lips as you stepped into your room and closed the door firmly behind you. 

The quietness and sudden isolation of your room were suddenly suffocating. Just mere hours ago you had Quinn had woken up there, together, and now he was going to just leave? It felt like some sick and twisted joke that left you trembling as you sank to your knees. You couldn’t help but wonder if he had known before breakfast, and that last night only happened because Quinn knew he was going to leave. The what ifs were all-consuming in your mind, raging louder and louder even if you tried to combat them with: Quinn, isn’t that kind of guy. He’s good—at least that’s what you wanted to believe. But the thought wasn’t enough. Your tears came anyway, hot and unrelenting as you silently sobbed. The hot tears spilled down your cheeks as you pressed your psalm into your face to muffle any sound that threatened to escape your lips. 

Quinn was leaving. After everything. After the awkward days of learning to live together, and the late-night talks, the laughter, and the moments that felt too intimate to be casual. You’d finally allowed yourself to settle into the strange shared existence the two of you had been thrust into. For two weeks, it was just the two of you alone in the little world that was your apartment. When Chris had dropped him off weeks ago, you knew the arrangement was temporary. At one point you had been counting down the hours until he could leave… but now, as you struggled through shallow breaths in search of a glimmer of composure, you had to accept he was leaving you behind, and it felt achingly permanent. 

In just twenty-four hours, Quinn would be gone.

You spent each one of them alone in your room, your mind racing with so many things you wanted to say, but never brought yourself to. As the next time you left your room, the apartment was unbearably quiet, void of Quinn’s presence. And for the first time in weeks, you were truly alone. 

[undercvrfan444]

Description! Pt.2 to Bully!Satoru

Warnings! 18+, AFAB, mentions of female genitalia, kind of creepy gojo (oops), smut, fingering, probably more but Idk

Authors Note! I hope you guys like this, I have other ideas too so stay tuned because i’ll prob post those within the next few days! 💙

Bully!Satoru who would knock whatever book you were reading out of your hands. The pages would mesh together and you’d lose your spot causing you to frown. “You’re such a jerk!” You’d say to him and all you’d get was a wink in response.

Bully!Satoru who enjoyed writing disgusting and downright horrible things about you on post it notes just to slip them in your bag so you’d find them at home. He knew you read the comments because when you’d come to school the next day it was always hard for you to keep eye contact with him like normal. Your agitated responses would be mere whispers instead of your usual brave demands.

Bully!Satoru who watched as rain started to pour viscously outside and spotted the pretty pink umbrella tucked neatly in the side of your backpack. He couldn’t help himself. He needed his sweet bunny to do without so he could swoop in and save the day! Taking the umbrella, he was forcing you to soak your clothes in order for him to offer his own umbrella. You should already know he would peak down to see the way your uniform clung to your body and how the bra you wore did a poor job at hiding how cold you were.

Bully!Satoru who was surrounded by girls at lunch and noticed one day how you seemed to be bothered by it. Later on when he pulled your beautifully crafted braid out of your head you simply…ignored him.

Bully!Satoru who internally was intrigued by your reaction. Seeing his sweet bunny get so bothered by him receiving attention from other females managed to turn him on more than he expected.

Bully!Satoru who notices when you’re out of school for a few days after your little fit and asks your friends why you’ve been gone. They inform him that you’re sick and would most likely be missing the worksheets you’d need. Satoru knew how dedicated you are to your studies and took it upon himself to bring those papers by your house. How he got your address? Don’t worry about it.

Bully!Satoru who showed up after school that day and knocked on your door. You answer in a simple hoodie and shorts that has Satoru salivating like a dog; his eyes raking up your legs with no shame. “Aren’t you gonna let me in? I have all your work which i’m sure you’ll need some help with.”

Shy!Reader who lets Satoru into their house and tells her mom she and a friend are going upstairs to study. Yet the moment your bedroom door closes Satoru pulls you against his chest and gropes you through the fabric. He coos in your ear and shushes you when you try to protest “Oh cmon sweet girl. Be nice and let me have my reward for doing a good deed yeah?”

His slender fingers cup your breasts over your shirt and he moves one large hand down to run a hand smooth over your ass. His lips brushed against your ear as he left featherlight kisses. “Is this what you think of when you’re all alone? My hands feeling your body up while I whisper nasty things in your ear? Hmm?”

Bully!Satoru who teased you unwavering for what seems forever about being jealous of some stupid girls. “They’re just jealous of you baby. You get all my attention while I leave those girls high and dry don’t you know?” He loves hearing you whimper while and slips his cold hands under your clothes and inspects you further.

Bully!Satoru who scanned your room quickly until something caught his eye. A small pile of neatly folded colorful post it notes tucked into a container on your desk. His tongue clicking down at you and chuckling lowly in your ear. “Oh come now. Y/n! I never would have taken you for such a dirty girl…but that’s what you want people to think right? That you’re a goody two shoes that would never dream of having sex before marriage. Yet here you are with a pile of my horny little notes that you’ve been collecting while you writhe and moan from my hands touching you.”

Bully!Satoru who wants to eat you alive. His teeth sink down into your neck leaving a blooming purple patch on a rather exposed piece of skin. “S-Satoru! That hurt!” Is all you can seem to cry out while he slips his hand lower into your shorts, rubbing his fingers over your panties.

He sits on your bed gently and pulls you into his lap, knocking your legs apart so each leg stretches over his. He already slipped your shorts off and has you tightly against his chest where you swear you can feel his heart racing. “Be a good girl for me and stay quiet. We can’t have your parents knowing how wet their daughter gets by having her bully knuckle deep in her little pussy.”

Shy!Reader that swears she’s going crazy as her head spins. Small pants and groans escape from your lips while he fucks his fingers in and out of you harshly. Obscene squelching noises fill your ears as you listen to him bury his fingers in your sopping pussy. “Please! Toru’ m-more.” The words shock both you and the boy behind you when they come out. Satoru stops his movements inside you and forces your head up so you look him in the eyes.

“That feel good baby?” You nod the best you can with his hand holding your jaw. “Tsk tsk, I didn’t expect this from you sweet girl. You’ve already made such a mess on my lap i’m not sure I can continue without your parents asking question when I go downstairs.” His words cause you to whine out loudly and he pulls his fingers out of you completely.

Your eyes widen at the sudden loss of his touch. “N-no please! Satoru I want…I want you to touch me!” Frantically you whisper up to him while frustrated tears fall from your eyes at being neglected.

Satoru smiles at you for a second before licking his fingers clean of your slick. The sight making you squirm and try to close your legs.

“Mm, such a needy thing. I hate to leave you like this but it’s getting so late.” He snickers behind you and you know he’s doing this to prove a point and nothing more. He pulls your legs closer together and lifts you so you’re lying against your pillows. He presses a small kiss against your lips before standing again.

Bully!Satoru who bends down and pockets the panties he ripped off of you previously. “Call me if you have any questions about the work yeah? I’m sure we could set up a study session soon.”

With that he left your room and you heard him say bye to your parents downstairs before the front door closes.

The next day with Bully!Satoru at school who barely looks at you throughout the day and keeps the teasing to a minimum causing you to get frustrated and feel the heat in your panties grow. The purple hickey Satoru had gifted you was covered with makeup the best you could do and occasionally you’d swipe your fingers over the spot.

Bully!Satoru who pulled you aside during lunch and wrangled you into an empty broom closet so he could attack your lips. “Look so pretty today baby. You really should stop staring at me so much or else someone might get the wrong idea. Someone might think you actually enjoy my teasing.”

[teeheeandhaha]

Malibu

Joost Klein x reader

summary: six months after the breakup with Joost you are set to perform at Eurovision, but there’s one thing you didn’t expect: he’s competing too. When you find out through a Eurovision Instagram post—after months of no communication from him about it—your emotions erupt.

a/n: let's act like you wrote the song Malibu by Miley Cyrus I've been listening to it on repeat and came up with this

♡-------------------

Months of preparation and rehearsals have led you here—to Eurovision. But you never imagined it would come to this. Starting out as a YouTuber and streamer, you never thought of yourself as a "real" singer. Sure, you’ve uploaded a few songs to Spotify, but you didn’t exactly promote them or talk about them when someone mentioned it. It was just a side project—nothing to make a big deal about. But now, here you are, competing on the grand stage of Eurovision with Malibu—a song full of memories you wish you could forget.

It was six months ago when you and Joost broke up. A mutual, friendly breakup. You were still talking, sneaking into each other’s houses when a party got too out of hand, drinking too much, and waking up in his bed. That was until three months ago, when Joost started talking to somebody else. You’d only met her once, and it didn’t last long—just three weeks. You found it almost comical how quickly it ended. But what stung the most was that he tried to reach out to you after, but you were done.

Joost sent texts every now and then—casual, almost like nothing had changed—but you kept your responses short. “I’m fine. Hope you’re good.” That sort of thing. Eventually, the texts stopped coming. You haven’t heard from him since.

But you remember clearly telling him about Eurovision. You’d shared your excitement, your nerves, how much it meant to you. You hadn’t expected him to be overly excited, but you did expect him to acknowledge it. To care. Instead, he said nothing. Nothing at all.

As you sit on the couch scrolling through the Eurovision hashtag, you freeze. Your thumb stops moving. You blink. There it is—Joost Klein. A picture of him with his name and Netherlands next to it, proudly displayed in the official post.

He’s performing.

Jesus fucking Christ.

A bitter laugh escaped your lips as you stared at the screen, your heart a mess of anger and disbelief. You’d given him space to move on—hell, you were moving on too, even if it didn’t feel like it most days—but this? This felt like a punch to the gut. He knew how much this meant to you, and yet, it was like he didn’t even care.

You leaned back, staring at the ceiling, trying to calm the storm inside you. Eurovision was supposed to be your moment. A fresh start. And now, Joost was part of it too, whether you liked it or not. The thought of having to face him, especially knowing he had kept this huge detail from you, made your stomach churn. 

The night before the first performance was always the wildest at Eurovision. Fans and performers alike were all gathered at the lavish pre-show party. Glittering lights, loud music, and the heavy buzz of excitement filled the air, everyone trying to get in one last bit of fun before the nerves hit for real.

You hated it.

You didn’t hate the excitement or the glittering lights or the music—it was the one thing you could never get used to. The crowds. The noise. The fake smiles and small talk. It was supposed to be a celebration of your hard work, but instead, it felt like a carnival of everything you wanted to avoid.

You’d told yourself you were ready for this. Ready for the competition. Ready for the performance. But tonight? Tonight, you just wanted to be anywhere but here. Maybe you should’ve stayed in your room, but your manager had insisted you come. Networking, they’d said. It’s good for your image.

Yeah, good for your image—if you didn’t mind pretending to be friends with people who were more interested in how many Instagram followers you had than anything else.

But there was something else nagging at you, more than the crowds or the fake smiles. The thought of him. Joost.

You hadn’t expected to see him tonight, honestly. With the way you kept your distance from him over the last few months, you figured he’d stay in the VIP section, ignoring everyone in the public crowd, just like he always did. But there he was, standing by the bar in the corner of the room, casually talking to someone, his broad shoulders leaning against the wooden counter.

Your heart skipped a beat. He looked good. Too good. Dressed in his signature style—slightly messy hair, and a casual yet sharp jacket that made him look effortlessly cool. It wasn’t even that he was just attractive; it was the way he carried himself—like everything was perfectly in place. And, that was what made you want to break something.

Taking a deep breath, you turned away from him, keeping your distance as you made your way to a quieter corner. No way were you going to let this night be ruined by him. You were here to make a name for yourself, not to fall into old patterns.

You needed space. The music, the laughter, the flashing lights—everything about the party felt like it was closing in on you. You couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think straight. Joost was here, in the same room, and you couldn’t avoid him any longer.

Grabbing your coat, you made your way to the nearest exit, slipping out into the cool night air, hoping to find some solace.

The fresh air hit you instantly, and you breathed it in, feeling a little more like yourself. The chaos inside felt miles away now.

You reached into your pocket for a cigarette, flicking the lighter open with practiced hands. You never used to smoke—at least, not like this. You’d occasionally share a vape with friends when they came over, or maybe grab a drunken cigarette at a party. But it wasn’t until Joost came into your life that the habit became real. He’d always be outside with his cigarette, leaning against something casually, as if the world outside didn’t matter. It made you want to be a part of it, too. Before you knew it, you found yourself lighting up as well, the action feeling strangely comforting.

You took a deep drag, the smoke curling into the night air, and tried to let go of the thoughts swirling around in your head.

But you weren’t alone for long.

“Hey.”

You turned to see it was Alanis—Joost’s best friend and one of your own, too. She gave you a tentative smile, her eyebrows furrowed in concern. Of course, she’d come after you. Alanis always had a way of showing up when emotions were running high.

“What’s up?” you asked, trying to keep your tone neutral.

She leaned against the railing next to you, crossing her arms. “You okay? I saw you slip out. It’s... a lot in there, huh?”

“Yeah. A lot.” You took another drag from your cigarette, looking down at it as if it would answer all your questions. “Why’s Joost here?”

Alanis’ eyes softened, a familiar look of understanding in them. She knew how this was for you. How it used to be.

She sighed, glancing at the party behind you before speaking quietly. “Eurovision’s been his dream since he was a kid, you know that.”

You exhaled sharply, flicking the ash off your cigarette. Of course, you knew that. Joost had never shut up about Eurovision. He’d talked about it endlessly, the way it had been his escape, his hope. For his parents, he’d always say, and every time, you would nod along, because you understood. You’d been there with him, supported him every step of the way. He had always dreamed of this, but now?

Now, the anger welled up again. The same familiar frustration you hadn’t felt in months. You could feel your blood beginning to boil.

“I know, Alanis. I know,” you said through clenched teeth. “But why the hell didn’t he tell me he was performing? Why didn’t he mention it to me when I told him about Eurovision?”

Alanis’ expression faltered, her lips pressing into a tight line. She glanced around the street, clearly uncomfortable. “He’s always had this... this fear of disappointing people. You know how he is. Maybe he didn’t want to upset you, especially after... well, everything that happened.”

You shook your head, frustration bubbling over. “I know it sucks. He should have said something, you should have heard it from him, but—”

“But what?” You cut her off, tossing your cigarette to the ground. “I mean, seriously? I told him how excited I was. I told him I was going to be here, doing this. And he says nothing.”

Alanis seemed to hesitate for a moment, her gaze shifting uneasily. “Maybe... he didn’t know how to handle it. Maybe he thought it would make things worse, or... I don’t know.” She shrugged, eyes softening. “He’s still figuring things out, just like you are.”

You turned away, running a hand through your hair. “I’m figuring things out? What the hell does that even mean? What’s left to figure out, Alanis?”

Alanis stepped closer, placing a hand on your arm gently. “Look, I’m not trying to take his side. But... Joost’s been through a lot. Eurovision’s the biggest thing in his life, and I think, for him, it’s not just about the performance. It’s for his parents. You know, the ones who never got to see him achieve this. He wants to make them proud. He’s always wanted that.”

You stood there, the weight of her words sinking in. You knew all of that—knew it intimately. You had heard him talk about his parents, seen how much their memory shaped everything he did. But that didn’t change the fact that he hadn’t told you. And maybe that hurt more than the rest of it combined. He had always kept you close, shared his dreams with you... but this? This felt different. And you were angry.

You stood in front of the mirror backstage, the weight of the moment pressing down on your shoulders. The buzz of the crowd outside, the excitement in the air—it should have been exhilarating. But instead, all you felt was the crushing weight of the tension, the gnawing uncertainty.

Your fingers hovered over the makeup kit in front of you, but your mind was elsewhere. You should have been concentrating on your look, but instead, your thoughts drifted to Joost. He was out there now, performing his heart out on the Eurovision stage. You couldn’t help it. You had to know.

You put down the makeup brush in your hand, wiped your fingers on a tissue, and made your way toward the small TV monitor at the edge of the room. A few other performers were gathered around, nervously talking to each other, but you ignored them, your gaze locked on the screen.

The familiar sound of the crowd cheered as Joost’s name was announced, and you instinctively held your breath. You could feel your heart racing in your chest, your eyes glued to the screen. You knew it was happening, but somehow, watching him step onto that massive stage made everything feel real.

With a deep breath, you turned away from the screen, trying to shake off the lingering feelings. There was no time for distractions. You were here for a reason.

The stage was a sea of lights, bright and blinding, but you hardly noticed them as you stood at the center. The weight of the microphone in your hand was grounding, the feel of the cool metal a subtle reminder that this was real. You took a deep breath as the first chords of the song played softly through the speakers. The gentle strum of the guitar filled the arena, and you closed your eyes for just a moment, letting the music pull you into the moment.

The audience was a distant hum, but your mind—your heart—was somewhere else entirely. Somewhere in the past, to a time when you thought you had all the answers, before everything between you and Joost changed.

You started the first verse, your voice clear but soft, the words so personal they nearly caught in your throat.

It was like a weird cruel joke that the universe was playing on you, you had three dancers up there with you two dressed in black suits and one in a blue suit an annoying coincidence that Joost was also performing in blue, You weren't ready for all the questions after the performance something your manager tried to help you through but now with Joost here it'll only be about your past relationship with him and being put on the spot 24/7.

After the performance, your manager noticed you staring, their hand lightly pressing against your back as they guided you through the maze of people. "Hey, focus," they said, trying to get you back on track. "Remember, this is your moment, alright? Let’s keep it positive. Let’s not get caught up in—"

"Do you think they’ll ask me about him?" You blurted out, cutting them off before they could finish.

They hesitated for a moment, clearly trying to pick their words carefully. "I can’t stop the press, but you don’t have to answer any questions you don’t want to. Just... stay focused on you. Stay focused on your journey."

But that didn’t reassure you, not when you saw the flashes of cameras and the reporters hanging around the edge of the crowd, eager to ask about the relationship that had been the talk of the town for months. The breakup. The tension. The fact that, once again, Joost was right there—right in the middle of your moment.

You took a few deep breaths, trying to clear your head. But it was impossible. Every time you looked around, you saw him. There, in the distance, talking to some of the other contestants. Laughing with the same easy charm you remembered, the one that used to make your heart flutter. It made the anger and frustration surge inside you, like a storm rising.

The reporters were swarming now, looking for their next headline. They zeroed in on you immediately, microphones and cameras raised high, ready to ask the questions they knew would get the best reaction.

"How do you feel about Joost Klein also being here?" one reporter asked, their voice dripping with a mix of curiosity and anticipation.

You could feel your chest tighten at the mention of his name, but you forced yourself to smile. "I’m focused on my performance," you said, your tone sharp, but not giving away the anger bubbling underneath. "I’m here for me, and this is about my journey."

But they wouldn’t let it go. They never did. One reporter pressed, “Everyone’s talking about your past with Joost, the way your relationship ended—do you think that affects your chances here?”

The words hit you like a slap to the face. Of course, they would. The press loved drama. They lived for it. And all you wanted was to be left alone, to exist on this stage without being reduced to your past.

Every question about Joost, every lingering glance in his direction, would bring the same pain flooding back. You could already feel the endless loop of questions that would follow you everywhere: Do you still talk to him? Are you getting back together? How does it feel to perform with the same intensity as your ex?

It was a sickening feeling. And the worst part was that you didn’t know if you were strong enough to shut them all down, to fight back against the narrative that everyone seemed so eager to write for you.

But then you caught yourself. You had fought so hard to get here. To this moment. And no matter how much Joost or the media tried to pull you back into the past, you weren’t going to let them steal your future.

You forced a smile, shaking off the bitterness. "I’m just here to perform. That’s all I want to do."

And with that, you took a step forward, your manager beside you, ready to shield you from the rest of the madness. 

The chaos of the press, the frantic energy backstage, the constant questioning about Joost—it all started to blur together as you took a deep breath. You needed a moment to yourself, a place where you could escape the circus of Eurovision. You hadn’t prepared yourself for the wave of emotion that came crashing down after your performance.

You stepped away from the crowd, slipping into a quiet corridor that led out to the back of the venue. The cool air hit your face as you leaned against the wall, closing your eyes and letting the silence engulf you. You’d done it. You’d given the performance of your life, poured your soul into every note—but that wasn’t what was consuming your thoughts right now.

It was him. Joost.

The silence between you and Joost was heavy, more so than you had expected. His face was inches from yours, the vulnerability in his eyes making your chest tighten.

You had hoped, when you decided to take a step outside for a moment of peace, that you wouldn’t have to face this. But now that he was here, standing in front of you, you felt the weight of everything you’d left unsaid.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” You found yourself asking, the words coming out sharper than you intended. “Why didn’t you tell me you were here? You knew I was coming. We talked about this, Joost.”

He hesitated for a moment caught of guard by your directness “Im sorry.. I really am i shouldve told you” he said softly, as if trying to explain away the silence. "I thought it would be easier if I just stayed out of the way, gave you space."

“Staying away? Joost, this is a big deal! You talked about this all the time. We could've done this together!” You couldn’t keep the edge from creeping into your voice. Your pulse was pounding, frustration mounting as your words cut through the tension between you.

Joost’s eyes widened for a moment before a hint of frustration flashed across his face. He stepped forward, his voice rising slightly, his hands clenched at his sides. “Really? Three months, and you haven’t even tried to make a normal conversation with me. For three months, nothing! And what about the three months before that? Sure, our relationship wasn’t the same, but we were still talking. You’d sleep over at my place every now and then! Did our relationship mean nothing to you?”

You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself as Joost’s words hit harder than you expected. He was angry, and it was hard to keep up with his pace. But the frustration was bubbling up inside you, too. It wasn’t just the breakup anymore; it was everything that came after it—the silence, the feeling of being abandoned by someone who once cared for you.

Joost’s face fell slightly, the anger in his eyes fading, replaced by something else—regret, maybe, or guilt. “I didn’t know what to do! I didn’t know how to fix it... I was scared. I thought that if I gave you space, if I just let you breathe, maybe you’d want to talk to me again. But instead, you shut me out.”

Your hands tightened into fists at your sides, trying to calm your racing thoughts. “Space? Joost, you disappeared when I needed you. I didn’t need space. I needed you to show up, to talk to me like we used to. But I never heard from you. And when you started seeing someone else, I thought maybe... maybe I could finally move on, too.”

He exhaled sharply, taking a step back, his gaze shifting away from yours for a moment. “It wasn’t like that. It didn’t work out, and I didn’t want you to feel like I replaced you. I never wanted to replace you.”

“But you did,” you said softly, almost too quietly. “You didn’t tell me what was happening in your life, and it felt like I didn’t even matter. I kept waiting for you to reach out, but you didn’t. And then, when you did, it was only because things fell apart with her. It felt like you only cared when it suited you.”

Joost looked down at the ground, the weight of your words settling between you. He seemed lost, not knowing how to respond. His voice, when he finally spoke again, was quieter, almost apologetic. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. I swear I didn’t. I just didn’t know how to keep going after everything that happened. And now... now it’s like everything I do, it just makes it worse.”

You let out a shaky breath, the anger draining from your body, leaving you exhausted. “Joost, I’m not asking you to fix everything. I’m just asking you to be honest. To stop pretending like I don’t matter. You had your chance to tell me what was going on, and you chose to stay silent.”

There was a long pause. Joost opened his mouth, but no words came out. His hands fell to his sides, defeated. For the first time in a long time, you felt like you were talking to the Joost you once knew—the one who didn’t hide behind walls or silence.

“I didn’t want to lose you,” he said quietly, finally meeting your gaze. “I still don’t.”

♡-------------------

Pt2?????? 👀

[scariusaquarius]

rehab. 5.

Avenger! Bucky Barnes x Winter Soldier! Fem! Reader

Summary: While on a mission to find any more possible super soldiers that were a part of the Winter Soldier program, Steve and Bucky make a discovery in an abandoned HYDRA base that was cleared out a few years prior to their mission. They discover the Reader, a long-forgotten soldier that was still asleep within a functioning cryostasis pod; still awaiting orders. While Bucky isn't happy about it, he is put up to the challenge of helping to rehabilitate the soldier in Wakanda where she may be able to become a person again.

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A/n: This chapter is going to contain some very dark and graphic scenes. Please read carefully. I'm really happy that you guys are enjoying the story! The comments are feeding me and motivating me so much, I really do appreciate the support. Also, you can read it here on my archive account as well!

This is an au where Bucky joined the avengers but still rehabilitated in Wakanda (sometime before Infinity War [canon divergent cause NOPE]). I am NOT fluent in Russian, so I did use google translate cause I couldn't find a good translator that I trusted. If anything is wrong, PLEASE let me know!! Also, I tried to list as many warnings as possible so you know what the story will contain as chapters are posted. Stay safe!

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Genre: Slowburn, Enemies to Lovers/Friends to Lovers, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Humor, Drama, Dark Content Rated: Explicit Warning: Angst, Dark Content: Graphic Depictions of Sexual Assault, Blood and Gore, Mentions of Manipulation, Kidnapping, Canon-Typical Violence, Body Horror, Nonconsensual Body Modification/Scarring, Emotional and Physical Abuse, Mentions of Murder, Mentions of Suicidal Thoughts/Ideation, Graphic Depictions of Human Remains, Mentions of Sexual Coercion/Manipulation, Death, Misuse of Drugs/Forced Drugging, Self-Harm (Graphic Depictions and Mentions), Nightmares

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Author: ScariusAquarius

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rehab masterlist. chapter 1 / chapter 2 / chapter 3 / chapter 4

All through the night, Shuri had worked on dissecting the Winter Soldier's brain. When Bucky had swung by the lab in the morning, it seemed as though Shuri hadn't slept at all. Her space buns were now down, the freely-hanging braids swinging wildly as she walked around the cryostasis pod with quick paces.

Her brows were furrowed with annoyance, the princess cursing to herself in Xhosa as Okoye stood by, raising a brow at the profanities Shuri was listing off. Bucky was concerned, greeting her with a tilt of his head and holding out a cup of coffee for her.

"Good morning. Did you get any sleep at all?"

"Good morning, Sergeant Barnes. I admittedly lost track of time, but the programming is proving to be difficult. Every time I seem to get past the encryption, another layer pops up and tries to activate her. However, since she's in cryostasis, the activation is failing."

Bucky nodded, humming thoughtfully as he stared at the woman within the pod.

"Seems like they updated their programming to avoid another...well, me."

Shuri nodded, huffing as she glanced back at him.

"Exactly. I knew that she was going to be complex, but I didn't think to realize that they would install safeguards in such a way. I can do it, it's just frustrating."

Okoye hummed, quirking her brow slightly before snorting in amusement when Shuri glared back at her.

"She has been yelling profanities for the last two hours."

Shuri waved her off, not even gracing Okoye with a response. Instead, she gestured Bucky over, expanding the hologram of the woman's mind. Throughout her mind, Bucky could see pulses of...something...happening, and he glanced at Shuri when the woman asked.

"What do you see?"

"Um, it looks like there's a lightning storm flashing through her mind."

Shuri smiled, nodding.

"Precisely. The synapses of her brain are firing rapidly despite her being in cryostasis. Do you understand what this means?"

Bucky was quiet, shrugging slightly, and Shuri rolled her eyes before saying.

"She is dreaming, White Wolf."

Bucky was surprised, asking Shuri as she began to poke around the hologram, pulling up a couple sections.

"Wait, she is?"

"Yes, and with my technology, I've been able to see into these dreams."

Her expression became grim, eyes darting away from Bucky, and Bucky understood what her expression was saying. Whatever Shuri was able to see hadn't been pleasant in the slightest, which in a morbid way, Bucky wasn't even surprised. Almost wordlessly, she pulled up a particular image, explaining.

"I was only able to get glimpses and small portions of dreams due to HYDRA's programming kicking me out repeatedly, but from what I saw...it was truly horrific. The things that HYDRA did...the things it seems that she is remembering, or perhaps never forgot, are...they are horrific, Sergeant Barnes."

Bucky frowned deeply as looked at the images that Shuri was showing him. Some were of a familiar cell wall, some were of blurred faces that were familiar yet unknown at the same time, and there was one that made his stomach churn.

Blood. There was so much blood covering her naked thighs and pooled beneath her. Shuri had taken the time to carefully blur the soldier's vagina from view, but Bucky didn't even need to see it to know what they had done.

You're a super soldier, they would say. You can take it.

Bucky bit his tongue while his back stiffened considerably, and Shuri brought up a clip that began to play automatically. It seemed to be of a previous killing, the man on the ground looking up at the soldier fearfully as a bloody hand came into view.

He seemed to be begging, crying hard as the body of a child whose head was crushed and gushing with blood and destroyed brain matter laid within his lap. The soldier was holding a gun, and when the gun was fired, the clip ended.

"Were you able to do this with me as well?"

Bucky's tone was quiet, his words almost a whisper as he looked away from the clip, his breathing starting to accelerate slightly as Shuri swiped the clip away quickly.

"Definitely, but not to this extent. However, our work together helped to shape my technology into this."

Shuri gestured to the hologram with her hand before she glanced back at Bucky, pursing her lips as she grabbed another image and maximized it, showing the image of a blurry paper-crochet butterfly and small hands that were in the process of decorating the art project.

"There are a few memories that I was able to get to, though they are slightly miniscule; almost useless to us in figuring out who she is."

Another video came up, a short 10 second clip that showed the soldier in what looked to be a graduation or awards ceremony. There was an elderly-looking hand that was lifting a medal before pinning it to her chest, and Bucky's eyes widened.

"Wait a minute...that looks familiar. Can you clear up the image a bit?"

Shuri looked smug before winking as the image cleared, showing a medal that had an inscription engraved onto it. Bucky shook his head in surprise, saying as he uncrossed his arms in surprise.

"No wonder she's a ghost. She worked for the CIA."

The medal that the soldier had been given was for Career Intelligence, a reward that came from exceptional achievements and, if Bucky remembered right, the length of service. Shuri hummed, stating as she crossed her arms and glanced at the woman.

"Not all ghosts are completely untraceable. If I can get deeper into her mind and get more parts of her memories unlocked, I can attempt to figure out who she is a lot easier and faster."

Shuri then shook her head, huffing with frustration.

"The risk that comes with doing so, however, is that once she awakens and her mind is able to be more active, these memories have a chance of coming to her all at once. It will be an overwhelming and horrifying experience for her."

Bucky sighed heavily. If that happened, there was a risk that it could reactivate HYDRA's programming and she would become an active threat, and nobody wanted that.

Hell, his temple was still throbbing.

Bucky then glanced over at Shuri again when Shuri pointed to a hologram of a document with the CIA's official seal, maximizing the image and swiping a few of the scanned documents away.

"Because we know our soldier was a part of the CIA, I scanned through their database to see if I could find anything akin to the Winter Soldier program. While the CIA is involved in a super soldier project, I haven't found anything of use yet. And don't worry, I erased my tracks as soon as I made them."

Shuri smirked with a haughty glint within her eyes, and Bucky chuckled at her. He hummed after mulling through his thoughts for a moment.

"It's nice to know that we're getting closer to knowing who she is, but if you can't get past the firewalls of the algorithm...how would we reactivate her without wiping her?"

"I can put a temporary lock upon her most recent memories from the time she was awakened until now. That lock will slowly deteriorate over time, almost like a dissolvable suture, so it won't be permanent."

That was nice to know, at least. T'Challa's voice made Shuri and Bucky jump from the surprise, the two of them looking back at him as he walked inside of the lab.

"If our Isithunzi worked for the CIA before she became a Winter Soldier and was awarded for her work, then perhaps the next step would be to look at every single employee that was in service within the last 50 years that received recognition from the agency."

He was holding the black book within his hands, and T'Challa placed it down on a table beside one of the original Black Panther suits, the king regarding the two of them with a tired look. Shuri scoffed, waving him off before doing the Wakandan salute.

"Please, you always think so lowly of me. When I discovered this particular memory, I downloaded as much information as I could without tripping the CIA's cyber security systems. There's at least 75 years worth of information here. If we filter out employees that hadn't specifically received a Career Intelligence reward, we lower the number to at least five to 10 years."

Bucky was impressed, and he joked gently.

"You ever thought of becoming a spy?"

T'Challa pursed his lips in annoyance when Shuri laughed loudly.

"Not in your life, White Wolf. I like being my own boss."

"Unless the king says no."

Shuri didn't even grace T'Challa with a response, making the man roll his eyes and shake his head. T'Challa regarded Bucky with a hard gaze, asking him.

"Have you gotten in touch with the Captain to see if Tony or Natasha have found anything as well?"

"Not yet. I was kind of waiting on them to get in touch with me."

T'Challa nodded, and he suggested.

'You should tell the Captain what you have found. I am sure that he is eager to know what we have uncovered."

Bucky nodded despite the cryptic feeling that was twinging T'Challa's words, and he walked out of the lab into a deserted hallway, a couple of the Dora Milaje standing guard. Awkwardly nodding to them in greeting as he walked down the hallway, Bucky slipped out the phone within his pocket and frowned.

Despite the fact that he'd had the thing for a while, Bucky still couldn't quite grasp the fact that touch-screen was a thing. Hell, the last time Bucky had ever used a phone before HYDRA, it was to call his little sister, Rebecca, before he went to Europe with the 107th.

He could still remember the number for the Shelbyville operator, the specific number for Rebecca's telephone, and how calls were logged and billed for at the end of the month. Now, it took just dialing a number directly. Bucky's mind was still having a bit of trouble wrapping around the idea of call operators not really being a thing anymore.

Shaking his head slightly, Bucky called Steve, a quiet part of his mind wondering if Steve had felt this way before as well. The meaningless thought was squandered when Steve answered, sounding a bit out of breath as he spoke.

"Hey, Buck. Any progress yet on the woman?"

Bucky hummed, leaning against the wall as he glanced in the direction of the lab, replying.

"We got a bit of good information. Shuri's technology was able to get through to some parts of the woman's brain and reveal some memories of her. Apparently, she was a part of the CIA before she became a Winter Soldier."

Steve made a noise of surprise, stating.

"That makes things a bit easier. Tony wasn't really able to find a lot, and Natasha hasn't even combed the surface of the databanks we acquired."

"She's a complete ghost, so I don't know if it'll help. There's something else, though..."

Bucky's voice trailed off for a moment, his surprise hitting him again before he informed Steve.

"...the woman's dreaming. Shuri had a live hologram of the woman's brain up, and she said that the synapses of her brain were firing in a way that was common with dreaming."

"Which means the woman might be remembering things...that's good, right?"

The image of the woman's bloodied legs came to Bucky's mind, and he tightened his grip on his phone, muttering.

"I don't...I don't know. Some of the images that Shuri was able to capture of the woman's dreams and memories...they weren't pleasant."

Steve was quiet for a moment, and he replied with a stern tone of voice.

"We'll get this figured out and we'll find out who she is. If not...then we can help her become a new person...a completely clean slate."

Bucky didn't comment on the way that Steve said 'we' and instead rubbed a hand over his face, muttering.

"The CIA seems to have a super soldier project, but it's not confirmed that the CIA had any volunteers that we know of...it's mainly rumors and ideas."

Bucky added as he watched T'Challa and Shuri leave down the opposite hall, their steps quick and purposeful.

"It's possible there were HYDRA agents within that stole information on the serum, or the serum itself, that the CIA was concocting and grabbed some random woman off of the side of the street. They, as well as HYDRA, have the ability to scrub a person completely off of the radar, and nobody is gonna be looking for a nobody."

Steve was firm, and Bucky knew the man had to be shaking his head at him as Steve slightly scolded him.

"That's not true. There's always going to be someone...we just don't know if that someone is alive or dead. According to that book we found, she's been an active soldier for HYDRA since 1985, and who knows how long she was there before she was created. 30 years is a long time."

"Yeah? Try 70."

Steve was quiet, and Bucky apologized quietly, revealing gently.

"Sorry...I'm sorry...it's just...it's a lot."

Steve's voice was gentle with patience, making Bucky furrow his brows as he ran a hand through his hair.

"I know, Bucky, but I'm with you till the end of the line. You know you can call me at any time and talk to me."

"I know. I'm with you till the end of the line, too, pal."

Steve then groaned gently when the sound of an explosion went through the phone, and he was quick to inform Bucky.

"Hey, I gotta go. Queens just crashed in. Literally. Call me if you get any updates, and I'll call you if I get one first."

Before Bucky could respond, the line went dead, and Bucky shook his head and slipped his phone back into his pocket. Walking back into the lab, Bucky came to stand in front of the cryostasis pod.

Hands within his pockets, he stared at the woman, gazing at the scars that covered her lower jaw and neck, and he watched as the live feed of her brain began to become active again.

An alert showed up along with a video, and Bucky was astounded to realize that it was a live feed of the dream the woman was currently having. It was a bit jarring to watch, bits and pieces becoming jumbled and blurry, and then it began to become clear.

The woman was standing before a man that Bucky knew very well, his face crystal clear to him and sparking rage deep within his chest. Bucky watched as Rollins spoke to her, and though there was no audio to be able to hear what he was saying, Bucky knew it wasn't pleasant.

Rollins seemed angry, walking back and forth in front of her before striking her down with a baton, the view shifting to the floor as the soldier fell and blood splattered onto the ground as if the woman had coughed.

From there, it only got worse, and Bucky had to turn away the second the soldier began to unbuckle the man's belt with bloodied hands, his anger becoming too much. Anger, regret, recognition, it was too much for Bucky to handle.

He could feel his chest restricting, could feel the oxygen becoming harder to breathe, and a tingling sensation began to grow within his toes and fingers.

Flashes began to appear within his own mind, images of the Enforcer's hosing his naked body with ice-cold water before they began to touch him; reaching for places he didn't want to be touched.

He could feel their teeth in his flesh, could hear the echoes of their taunts as they laughed menacingly, and Bucky squeezed his eyes shut as he began to tremble and feel disgusted by his own body. A voice within his head began to speak to him gently; familiar and comforting as it guided him.

Breathe, Bucky.

In and out. Slowly. You are not their tool anymore. They can't hurt you. You're free.

Bucky repeated the words in his head over and over, as many times as he could.

I'm free. I'm free. I'm free. I am James Buchanan Barnes. I am Bucky.

Swallowing thickly, it took a little while for his heartrate to settle, and he stood upright, rubbing his chest slightly. Closing his eyes, Bucky could feel the tears starting to well up within his eyes, and he took a few more deep breaths.

Turning back to the screen, he was thankful that the image was gone. Instead, the woman seemed to be dreaming of a wooded area, the point-of-view looking down at a plaque that was placed within stone In the peripheral vision, there was a little kid's hand that was grabbing at one of the flowers that was surrounding the plaque.

It was so peculiar to Bucky to the point that he was completely jarred out of his panic. Squinting, he began to realize that this plaque was familiar, especially when the name on the plaque became clear.

Meltzer Woods.

He knew that name and place. In fact, Bucky could recall the trails like the back of his hand, could still smell the wildflowers, and if Bucky really thought hard enough, he could still hear the way his mother scolded him as Rebecca became upset by Bucky teasing her.

"Come, now, James. Leave your little sister alone."

He could still remember the way Rebecca had squealed, though time had taken away what exactly she had panicked over. He recalled that his mother had placed her hands on her hips, giving him a stern gaze when Bucky had talked back to her; exasperated as Rebecca began to cry.

"But Ma, we're in the woods! Of course there's going to be bugs!"

"Now, don't you give me that lip. You don't want your father to hear, do you?"

The memory slowly faded, but Bucky was too floored to care.

What had the soldier been doing in Shelbyville, Indiana? Did she know the place like he did? Was this from a time before she had been with HYDRA?

"You look as though you have seen a ghost!"

Shuri was back, giving him an odd look as Bucky stared at the woman in the cryostasis pod, and all Bucky could respond with was-

"I think I did."

-

STORY NOTES: Shuri has been working endlessly to get past HYDRA's programming. She is verbally and visibly frustrated, which Bucky becomes concerned about as he greets her. Shuri reveals that she had lost track of time because of HYDRA's programming continuously throwing up more firewalls that try to activate the soldier every time she managed to break through another.

Bucky comments that HYDRA seems to have updated their algorithms since his departure. Shuri then shows Bucky a live feed of the digital rendition of the soldier's brain, telling Bucky to list off what he observes. Bucky observes that the activity within the brain looks like a lightning storm, which Shuri agrees and elaborates.

It is revealed that the soldier is currently dreaming despite being in cryostasis, and Shuri reveals that she has developed a technology that allows her to be able to show what a person is dreaming about. Using this technology on the soldier, however, reveals the gruesome treatment HYDRA inflicted and the brutality of the Winter Soldier.

Shuri's technology is able to access and project dreams in the same way, and she shows Bucky a memory the soldier had about receiving a medal. Bucky recognizes the medal, and it's revealed that the Winter Soldier had been involved with the CIA at some point on a professional level.

T'Challa makes a recommendation to Bucky to get in touch with Steve, and Bucky agrees. He reflects on the advancements of communications technology and how he had to speak to an operator to call his sister when he was still int he ARMY. Bucky then tells Steve about what Shuri had found, and he also reveals that the woman is dreaming.

After his phone call, Bucky goes back to the lab and is angry when he is shown a memory that the soldier is currently remembering of her Handler, which Bucky recognizes as Jack Rollins. Bucky begins to experience a PTSD episode where he begins to remember when Enforcers sexually assaulted him during a hose-down.

Once he calms down, Bucky recognizes a place that the soldier is now dreaming of: Meltzer Woods. He recalls a memory of him, his parents, and his little sister going to the trails all of the time since Meltzer Woods is located in his hometown of Shelbyville, Indiana, and when Shuri comes in and comments about how Bucky looks as though he's seen a 'ghost', he comments that he might have. End Scene.

TRANSLATIONS:

Isithunzi - Xhosa for [the] shadow/shade

TAGLIST: @mgchaser @tilldeathripsusapart @vicmc624 @aash3

[visionsofyouandme]

Uncertainty (drabble)

𝚜𝚢𝚗𝚘𝚙𝚜𝚒𝚜: You wake from a nightmare and grapple with your feelings (in more ways than one). 

𝚠/𝚌: 700

𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜/𝚝𝚊𝚐𝚜: F!Reader (or could also be gn!reader). Pretty reader-centric. Jackson!Joel. Nightmares. Angst. Reader struggles with feelings. Sweet Joel. Open ending.

𝙰/𝙽: Thanks to anon for this first lil request for Joel x Reader! I would have posted the actual ask, but there were some spoilers they wanted me to insert. But, this is for you, lovely lovely anon!!!! Thank you for your request <3 Hope you enjoy!

You awoke with a start, chest heaving, a sweat collecting on your chest, neck, forehead. 

No, it was just a dream. 

Thank God. 

But, you could still feel the shakes of nerves wracking your body. This one had felt so real, and it was the first time in a long time you had had one so vivid, so… horrible. You struggled to contain yourself, calm your breathing, not wanting to rouse Joel. 

Joel. 

He still lay next to you, one hand thrown above him on the pillow, the other crossed over his stomach, a soft snore coming from him. Your gaze softened, and felt a little jealous about how peaceful he looked. He had nightmares of his own, but they seemed to stop the further you two explored- well, whatever this was that was between you.

It started as just fucking. Fucking out of frustration. Sadness. Loneliness.

Yeah, loneliness was where you were at right now.

You slipped out of bed, the nightmare still eating at the back of your mind. You pulled on clothes that felt like they were sticking to your skin, but you needed air. The room felt stifling, and your eyes were wide, your body awake and rigid. Tip toeing out and to the porch, you settled gently on the bench and looked out, seeing dawn was breaking soon. The beautiful colors of orange and pink overtaking the inky blues of night made you feel melancholy. But, at the same time, you tried to give yourself hope. If the world could overtake something as terrible as the night, you could overcome this. 

You thought of Joel again. You were growing attached, and you knew this. Knew it for a long time. But, the fucking became a little more than that. Lingering glances, brief touches, knowing smiles, shared laughter (on your part, Joel would breathe hard through his nose and you took it as a laugh). Things were beginning to be different. Another wave of fear came over you, this one making the sweat on your body become cold. 

You didn’t know Joel's thoughts on this whole situation. How could you? You weren’t in his head. But you wished and wished you could be. Get some answers that you had been craving. Could this really be something more? Or were you just delusional?

The creak of wood on the porch stirred you from your thoughts, and you whipped your head to the side to see Joel standing by the doorway, clothed in a t-shirt and sweatpants. You locked eyes, and just gazed at each other. That familiar feeling of safety came over you, and he nodded for you to come inside. You hesitated, looking out at the sky, but then relented and followed him in. 

He led you back to the bedroom, and you wondered if he just came to retrieve you out of necessity. He settled on the bed, and you stood with uncertainty. He looked up at you, and you saw a softness in his eyes that floored you for a moment. Giving you another wordless command to come to bed, you crawled in next to him, settling on your side of the bed until he pulled you into his side. You immediately relaxed in his touch, laying your head on his chest, his heartbeat reminding you this was real. You were safe. You were with Joel.

The one you love.

“Wanna talk about it?” he murmured, his nose nudging your head gently. You shook your head gently, and he wrapped an arm around your waist. 

“Okay.” he whispered, and you felt him settle back into bed. You waited a moment before responding-

“One day, I will.” 

Joel hummed in response, and you felt like this was a start to something a bit bigger than what was before. You breathed out deeply, feeling your chest deflate with relief for the first time that night. You let Joel’s steady breathing lull you to sleep, and you laid a hand on his chest to pull yourself even closer to him. He raised a hand to put over yours, and you felt the lightest of kisses on the crown of your head.

Yes, this was a start. 

Thank you for reading!

[kuschelkissen]

Ok first of all, I'm sorry for planting it in your head 😅

To me, his PV and the ending scenes are kinda giving me bad vibes. He looks like he has a lot of baggage he's carrying around and everything around him seems like he's just A Guy™️ and he's hanging out with Vein and Lu Xiao, and that alone is reason for me to believe that he will be thrown under the bus somewhere along the lines by someone. Not even necessarily Vein, but we know that lx is the master manipulator and we're told not to trust him.

I also don't think that all 3 of these new characters will make it to the end of this arc. We know lx will survive and with Vein being the one killing cxs in the future, he also will make it. Xf? Eh. Press x to doubt.

That cooperation line. I said right when i heard it the first time, i hope that he'll say it to lg or cxs, after them helping him doing something heinous (unknowingly in cxs case, knowingly? In the case of the popular theory of lg originally being one of the house), but with xf's pv coming out and veifei poisoning my brain... yeah well.

So. About your post.

In Greek mythology, the story goes that a nymph named Clytie was in love with Apollo, the God of Sun. In the beginning, he loved her too, but then his head was turned toward another nymph. In a fit of jealous rage, Clytie told the other nymphs’ father, who then buried his daughter alive as punishment. Apollo was so angry that he then turned Clytie into a sunflower. But, as her love for him was so strong, she watched him move across the sky every day, just how sunflowers follow the sun. (src)

Vein is like you said Apollo and xf is Clytie.

Someone turned Vein's head. And Xia Fei with his temper did something that resulted in that someone's death.

Xf may or may not be responsible for the dorm fire.

We don't know yet who was involved there. Who died. We do know though that Cheng Weimin was somehow involved. Cwm who may or may not have (had) powers involving seeing the future? Or a son who is able to change time. Or a wife who according to cxs also had powers.

Turning head doesn't necessarily mean that he fell in love with someone else, but maybe he gave a bit too much of his attention away to someone else?

And we don't know what Vein's ability is, we don't know what's his deal in all of this, why he's so keen on killing (?) Cxs.

(Killing or kidnapping? Read a nice analysis the other day of how in their fight in ep 1 he tried to separate the two of them, didn't shoot once at cxs, and seemed genuinely frustrated when they locked themselves in the dark room. Maybe because he knew cxs would be dead by the time he managed to break down that door? And in Yingdu we've already seen 1 attempt of getting him in a car with lx and Vein, and now that very obviously orchestrated rescue mission... hmm)

Then we have next episode's title. "And then there were none", a rhyme from a song that starts with 10 people who all die one by one, which is also the title for an Agatha Christie book where

- people get lured to an island under a pretence (like say... finding out something about your parents?)

- these people then get killed for causing the death of someone

Idk sounds familiar? And with the emphasis on the fire and the code talking about "there's only one survivor", idk, i feel like this will be relevant 🤔

So... uh. Excuse my rambling, i just got up and I'm still a bit tired lol.

What I'm saying is. We don't know what Vein's deal is. We don't know why he keeps Xia Fei (a seemingly normal guy) around and while I would love it to be genuine affection, I just don't clock Vein like that, idk.

What do you mean Xia Fei is full of death flags? His character flower is a sunflower!

Though not native to China, the sunflower is increasingly popular and carries symbolic meanings in Chinese culture. It signifies vitality, loyalty, and warm-heartedness. The sunflower's ability to turn towards the sun conveys admiration, respect, and a yearning for knowledge. (src)

Seems pretty positive. It also tells a lot about what Xia Fei thinks about Vein.

But wait, what’s this...

In Greek mythology, the story goes that a nymph named Clytie was in love with Apollo, the God of Sun. In the beginning, he loved her too, but then his head was turned toward another nymph. In a fit of jealous rage, Clytie told the other nymphs’ father, who then buried his daughter alive as punishment. Apollo was so angry that he then turned Clytie into a sunflower. But, as her love for him was so strong, she watched him move across the sky every day, just how sunflowers follow the sun. (src)

okay, it got a little dangerous… But! this still aligns with my yandere!XF headcanon. And aside from Vein being obviously Apollo, I can’t map the other characters to anyone else in the linkclick cast, so I think we’re safe—

Within Chinese culture, the sunflower has come to represent good luck, and receiving one as a gift or simply walking by one is seen as an auspicious sign. The yellow color is thought to denote intelligence as well as a vital spirit. In ancient China, royalty would eat the sunflower as a way to gain immortality, and it has continued to be associated with long life and prosperity. Most of China considers it a symbol of happiness as well. (src)

Vein.

Don’t. Think. About. It.

DON’T FUCKING THINK ABOUT IT, VEIN!

I WILL BE IN YOUR WALLS, VEIN!!!

[brittlebutch]

a lot of people seem to use Entry #61 as 'proof' for the crux of the "Brian didn't care about Tim, he was Taking Advantage of Tim's conditions and Forcing him to work as part of totheark" thing, but honestly when you think about it there's no possible way Brian could have possibly orchestrated that series of events, like you almost have to interpret that as a baffling group of coincidences

[nexus-nebulae]

just realised that the first media we consumed that made us REALLY sympathetic for the monster was that fucking point and click Mystery Case Files Ravenhearst game. bc that entire game i was legitimately fucking TERRIFIED of the ghost lady in that game but the second i found out her husband was abusive i doubled down on trying to help her escape. and the ending of that game Did make me cry out of fear but hey at least i did in fact help her escape

[levil0vesyou]

Having a post get popular enough to be independently reblogged by someone you follow but aren't mutuals with is. Wild

[spacelazarwolf]

Four weeks ago, Bear posted a call for submissions on his blog. In the interests of keeping the call as open as possible, we agreed to include as many trans-identities as we knew, so we used the word "tranny." And that's where the activist shit hit the postmodern fan base. People have been pissed. Here's their argument: FTMs are co-opting a word that belongs to MTFs. The word "tranny" belongs to MTFs, reason those who were hurt by our use of the word, because it was a denigrating term reclaimed by MTFs—ergo, only MTFs could be known as trannies. I spoke with Bear, and we agree that’s wrong on several counts:

Tranny began as a uniting term amongst ourselves. Of course it’s going to be picked up and used as a denigrating term by mean people in the world. But even if we manage to get them to stop saying tranny like a thrown rock, mean people will come up with another word to wound us with. So, let’s get back to using tranny as a uniting term amongst ourselves. That would make Doris Fish very happy.

It's our first own language word for ourselves that has no medical-legacy.

Even if (like gay) hate-filled people try to make tranny into a bad word, our most positive response is to own the word (a word invented by the queerest of the queer of their day). We have the opportunity to re-create tranny as a positive in the world.

Saying that FTMs can’t call themselves trannies eerily echoes the 1980s lesbians who said I couldn’t use the word woman to identify myself, and the 1990s lesbians who said I couldn’t use the word dyke.

At one phase in the evolution of transpeople-as-tribe, it was the male-to-females who were visible and representative of trans to the rest of the world. They were the trannies. Today? Ironically true to the binary we’re in the process of shattering, the pendulum has swung so that it's now female-to-males who are the archetypal trannies of the day. The generation coming up beyond the next generation, i.e. my tribal grandchildren are the young boys who transition to young girls at the age of five or six. They’re the next trannies. None of us can own the word. We can only be grateful that our tribe is so much larger than we had thought it would be. How to come together—now that’s the job of the next generation of gender outlaws.

Labels aren't all that bad when they're used consciously, but a major downside of using labels to describe an identity—even the labels we wear proudly as badges of courage—is that lables set up us-versus-them scenarios. The next generation of gender outlaws is seeking to dismantle us-versus-them. As a people, none of us deserves to hear the words “You’re not welcome here,” or “You’re not good enough,” or “You’re not real.” My Goddess, we just have to stop saying that to each other, all of us whose identity somehow hinges on gender or sexuality. We have to stop beating up on each other. The Sydney drag queens and transsexuals knew that when they came up with the word tranny to encourage mutual respect.

What’s more, the time has come for those who are coping with sex and gender oppression to raise ourselves up to a level of respectability of other marginalized groups—those working for equity along the lines of class, race, age, looks, religion, ability, family status, and citizenship. We’re not taken seriously precisely because our focus is on sex and gender. In the eyes of this culture that makes us morally suspect. What the fuck does our sex or our gender have to do with our morality?! We need to de-Puritanize this fucking culture, that’s what we’ve got to do. It's time to reclaim more than names. It's time to reclaim the moral high ground.

Those are the sort of topics I’d like to see in Gender Outlaws: The Next Generation. The first generation of gender outlaws made themselves known in the world. The job of the next generation of gender outlaws is to weave all of us gender and sex positivists together as a globally recognized tribe. I'd like to be around to see substantial progress made along those lines.

'tranny has never referred to trans men'

'tranny' has never referred to trans men.

Just admit you don't see us as trans at this point.

[nope-body]

.

[ask-the-rag-dolly]

edit : i'm sorry but this post is messy i don't like how this is the ramble that got the most attention shhffs please check out the addendum in the reblogs if you want a more clearer analysis

-

FIRST OF ALL the thing about the paint huffing - Other than that it's funny - is that we were getting ragatha at her most honest . she's more reflective and reveals her mind more which is a Lot considering that she has shown herself to be a people pleaser trying to avoid conflict . this is Literally The Last thing she wants

and honestly it would be fun to see the fallout of this in episode 5 when she would inevitably sober up and be Mortified about that fact considering she said This to gangle here

like . interesting ragatha . is that why you Do Not Stop Jax when he goes to bully gangle . other than not wanting him to hate you you also prefer it if gangle is in her tragedy state . is that it . Is That It -

also you guys don't know how much i fucking screamed at these scenes okay . there's nothing i love more than nice characters that show their less than desirable traits . my favorite thing about ragatha is not that she's a sweetheart but that she's Dishonest . even to the point that gangle mentions it in her talk with pomni

like my ongoing theory right now for the ' evil ragatha ' comment gooseworx made for episode 5 is that ragatha's going to say or do the Most Morally Ambiguous thing possible that will send the entire fandom on fire . like we're talking Arguments on whether she's in the right or wrong Even though this is a show that invites nuance instead of black and white views , and it'll be so fucking marvelous to witness

NOW . i really don't think she's faking being nice ! i believe with all my heart that ragatha's inherently Good and i will throw hands at anyone who thinks otherwise . it's just that she's just Repressing What She Thinks About The Others because , again , Avoiding Conflict ! which is shown by how annoyed she got with pomni talking to gummigoo ( gayass ) , what she said to gangle , and what she said to zooble

yes i screamed about the toybox interaction i knew that ragatha was going to not like zooble's grouchiness But I Digress .

all of this is interesting because . again , ragatha's a people pleaser trying to avoid conflict . i think her reasons for being nice and helpful are both selfless and selfish . selfless - she doesn't want anyone to go through the stress and pain of feeling alone , and selfish - she doesn't want anyone to hate her . they're like a smoothie , she's not one or the other . it's just that the latter reason ... has a lot more influences on her thought processes than she'd like to admit .

and that's showcased if you look at episode 2 with her conversation with kinger . she was worried about pomni going through something traumatizing , yes , but she added that she thinks pomni doesn't like her that much . which . it's a small piece of dialogue but it really shows how much ragatha's Gripping That Fucking Fawn Response . yes , her concern is everyone's wellbeing , but she also Would Not Like It If Anyone Hates Her , to the point that it'll stick to her . and she'll try So Hard to compensate for it .

like . she is really a nice person but she's dishonest because she doesn't want to be hated which is very much a selfish reason . she's falling into that pitfall of ' a friend to all is a friend to none ' . argh . why is she so complicated god i'm going to put her in that deepfryer again

[wisteria-html]

Ok. I’m going to start by saying that I’m ignoring everything that happened after this, because Birdie and Chris are my friends and I worry it would color this interaction. So. For the moment I am only considering this specific post for my response.

To start, thank you for apologizing. I accept it but as I said I can’t forgive you yet. I want to and I will work towards it but I’m not there yet. Nonetheless you saying that means a lot to me, and I accept your apology.

I have been acting excessively vitriolic and I’ve admitted that. I believe multiple times, though I don’t have the energy to go back and check. It’s not entirely your fault. The way you left suddenly without a true goodbye genuinely triggered me about something that happened a few months ago in my personal life. More than anything it was a shock, I thought I was safe here with all of you and suddenly it was happening again. I was at a Christmas party talking about what had happened a few months ago when I got the notification from Chris telling me you left. I know you tried to say goodbye, but I never saw it. I didn’t even get to hear it from you. Since then I’ve watched you hurt my friends (whether you meant to or not) and that just made me more angry. I’ll admit I wasn’t being entirely fair. I’m not used to being angry. I don’t know how to deal with it. If I’ve been excessively harsh I’m genuinely sorry. I just didn’t know how else to deal with this.

You’re right. You were able to be contacted. It didn’t seem like you wanted to, though, and I wasn’t going to push. A few months ago I was told to never contact who I thought was my best friend again. I got an impersonal goodbye and a boundary set. That day I decided not to beg people to have me in their life. I refuse to beg people to care about me. That’s what it felt like. And I didn’t have the energy to follow you down whatever hole you were digging yourself. Whether that’s accurate or not is up for debate, but that’s how I was viewing things in the moment.

That’s also why I was hesitant to step in with the hag, by the way. With the book, before I was cursed you knew I cared about you and wanted you around. You could assume the change in behavior was due to the curse. With you, I genuinely didn’t know whether you were enchanted or not because you left before you met her. I had no idea whether you wanted my help and again, I was not going to push. I’m sorry if that made you lose faith in me. I just couldn’t do that to myself.

Deleting that tumblr blog was a lot actually. I feel like you’re minimizing it and I can’t tell if that’s accidental or not. In deleting that, you deleted all evidence of a lot of our interactions, as well as half of our conversations (in the tags). It was like suddenly you and our past was completely inaccessible. All I had was what I had reblogged and even that was unfinished. Not only did you take yourself from me, you took a lot of the memories of you too. That’s your choice, I get it. But it did hurt more than you think.

Finally, I disagree with your last point. Sure if friends never trust each other then it won’t work, but there is absolutely space to rebuild broken trust in a friendship. I don’t know if that’s the route we’re heading (not because I hate you or am still furious, just other factors), but it is possible. I truly believe that. I think that anything can be rebuilt, even if it takes a while to be as strong as it was before. Sometimes it’s better to cut losses, but other times it’s worth it.

I wanna explain where my head is at for a bit now. It feels mean to say I don’t trust you, but I think it’s true. I wish it wasn’t, but every time we talk I’m so scared you’re going to leave without a trace again. If I open myself up to you and it happens again I wouldn’t be able to handle it. Not the way it happened before, without real closure. When I say I wouldn’t be able to handle it, I mean it: I think I would genuinely leave this little community. Certainly for longer than two weeks. And it’s not entirely your fault I feel this way, but right now my interactions with you are colored by my fear. Fear that it will all be for nothing in the end.

I think I still love you. I know I still care about you. I know I miss you. I hope you feel the same about me. I think that at this point we just both have to think about where we’re heading and if those paths are aligned or if they’re diverging.

Mavis,

I don't regret punching your nerd face, and I will do it again. Birdie, I'm unhappy with you, you rushed into something stupid, and took all my friends with you and then blamed me for your actions. As far as I'm concerned we are not on good terms. You knew Chris shouldn't have exposed himself to the cult and you were a bad friend and family member. You also enabled the killing of countless innocents with Alex. Wisteria, I am sorry for abandoning you, it was heat of the moment and it was the wrong choice. But, I told everyone where I went the day of, and you've acted excessively vitriolic towards me. I was not unable to be contacted, I deleted a tumblr blog. I still stand by the idea that if both parties are unable to trust each other, we can not meaningfully be friends. Chris,

I was deeply hurt by your actions, but I also acted selfishly and dramatically. It wasn't your fault birdie acted rashly, you were just trying to help your (stupid) family. The bog thing was bad, and the hag thing isn't an excuse. I want to make it up to you, and I've missed you this whole time. I understand that I've been bad to you, but I also want to say, a lot of it was not intended to be cruel. I am... kind of stupid. I hope I can make it up to you one day. Alexandria, Fuck you Alex.

[fullhalalalchemist]

URGENT: 🚨🚨EARN IT ACT IS BACK IN THE SENATE 🚨🚨 TUMBLR’S NSFW BAN HITTING THE ENTIRE INTERNET THIS SUMMER 2023

April 28, 2023

I’m so sorry for the long post but please please please pay attention and spread this

What is the EARN IT Act?

The EARN IT Act (s. 1207) has been roundly condemned by nearly every major LGBTQ+ advocacy and human rights organization in the country.

This is the third time the Senate has been trying to force this through, and I talked about it last year. It is a bill that claims "protects children and victims against CSAM" by creating an unelected and politically appointed national commission of law enforcement specialists to dictate "best practices" that websites all across the nation will be forced to follow. (Keep in mind, most websites in the world are created in the US, so this has global ramifications). These "best practices" would include killing encryption so that any law enforcement can scan and see every single message, dm, photo, cloud storage, data, and any website you have every so much as glanced at. Contrary to popular belief, no they actually can't already do that. These "best practices" also create new laws for "removing CSAM" online, leading to mass censorship of non-CSAM content like what happened to tumblr. Keep in mind that groups like NCOSE, an anti-LGBT hate group, will be allowed on this commission. If websites don't follow these best practices, they lose their Section 230 protections, leading to mass censorship either way.

Section 230 is foundational to modern online communications. It's the entire reason social media exists. It grants legal protection to users and websites, and says that websites aren't responsible for what users upload online unless it's criminal. Without Section 230, websites are at the mercy of whatever bullshit regulatory laws any and every US state passes. Imagine if Texas and Florida were allowed to say what you can and can't publish and access online. That is what will happen if EARN IT passes. (For context, Trump wanted to get rid of Section 230 because he knew it would lead to mass govt surveillance and censorship of minorities online.)

This is really not a drill. Anyone who makes or consume anything “adult” and LGBT online has to be prepared to fight Sen. Blumenthal’s EARN IT Act, brought back from the grave by a bipartisan consensus to destroy Section 230. If this bill passes, we’re going to see most, if not all, adult content and accounts removed from mainstream platforms. This will include anything related to LGBT content, including SFW fanfiction, for example. Youtube, Twitter, Reddit, Tiktok, Tumblr, all of them will be completely gutted of anything related to LGBT content, abortion healthcare, resources for victims of any type of abuse, etc. It is a right-wing fascists wet dream, which is why NCOSE is behind this bill and why another name for this bill is named in reference to NCOSE.

NCOSE used to be named Morality in Media, and has rebranded into an "anti-trafficking" organization. They are a hate group that has made millions off of being "against trafficking" while helping almost no victims and pushing for homophobic laws globally. They have successfully pushing the idea that any form of sexual expression, including talking about HEALTH, leads to sex trafficking. That's how SESTA passed. Their goal is to eliminate all sex, anything gay, and everything that goes against their idea of ‘God’ from the internet and hyper disney-fy and sanitize it. This is a highly coordinated attack on multiple fronts.

The EARN IT Act will lead to mass online censorship and surveillance. Platforms will be forced to scan their users’ communications and censor all sex-related content, including sex education, literally anything lgbt, transgender or non-binary education and support systems, aything related to abortion, and sex worker communication according to the ACLU. All this in the name of “protecting kids” and “fighting CSAM”, both of which the bill does nothing of the sort. In fact it makes fighting CSEM even harder.

EARN IT will open the way for politicians to define the category of “pornography" as they — or the lobbies that fund them — please. The same way that right-wing groups have successfully banned books about race and LGBT, are banning trans people from existing, all under the guise of protecting children from "grooming and exploitation", is how they will successfully censor the internet.

As long as state legislatures can tie in "fighting CSAM" to their bullshit laws, they can use EARN IT to censor and surveill whatever they want.

This is already a nightmare enough. But the bill also DESTROYS ENCRYPTION, you know, the thing protecting literally anyone or any govt entity from going into your private messages and emails and anything on your devices and spying on you.

This bill is going to finish what FOSTA/SESTA started. And that should terrify you.

Senator Blumenthal (Same guy who said ‘Facebook should ban finsta’) pushed this bill all of 2020, literally every activist (There were more than half a million signatures on this site opposing this act!) pushed hard to stop this bill. Now he brings it back, doesn’t show the text of the bill until hours later, and it’s WORSE. Instead of fixing literally anything in the bill that might actually protect kids online, Bluemnthal is hoping to fast track this and shove it through, hoping to get little media attention other than propaganda of “protecting kids” to support this shitty legislation that will harm kids. Blumental doesn't care about protecting anyone, and only wants his name in headlines.

It will make CSAM much much worse.

One of the many reasons this bill is so dangerous: It totally misunderstands how Section 230 works, and in doing so (as with FOSTA) it is likely to make the very real problem of CSAM worse, not better. Section 230 gives companies the flexibility to try different approaches to dealing with various content moderation challenges. It allows for greater and greater experimentation and adjustments as they learn what works – without fear of liability for any “failure.” Removing Section 230 protections does the opposite. It says if you do anything, you may face crippling legal liability. This actually makes companies less willing to do anything that involves trying to seek out, take down, and report CSAM because of the greatly increased liability that comes with admitting that there is CSAM on your platform to search for and deal with. This liability would allow anyone for any reason to sue any platform they want, suing smaller ones out of existence. Look at what is happening right now with book bans across the nation with far right groups. This is going to happen to the internet if this bill passes.

(Remember, the state department released a report in December 2021 recommending that the government crack down on “obscenity” as hard the Reagan Administration did. If this bill passes, it could easily go way beyond shit red states are currently trying. It is a goldmine for the fascist right that is currently in the middle of banning every book that talks about race and sexuality across the US.)

The reason these bills keep showing up is because there is this false lie spread by organizations like NCOSE that platforms do nothing about CSEM online. However, platforms are already liable for child sexual exploitation under federal law. Tech companies sent more than 45 million+ instances of CSAM to the DOJ in 2019 alone, most of which they declined to investigate. This shows that platforms are actually doing everything in their power already to stop CSEM by following already existing laws. The Earn It Act includes zero resources for proven investigation or prevention programs. If Senator Bluementhal actually cared about protecting youth, why wouldn’t he include anything to actually protect them in his shitty horrible bill? EARN IT is actually likely to make prosecuting child molesters more difficult since evidence collected this way likely violates the Fourth Amendment and would be inadmissible in court.

I don’t know why so many Senators are eager to cosponsor the “make child pornography worse” bill, but here we are.

HOW TO FIGHT BACK

EARN IT Act was introduced just two weeks ago and is already being fast-tracked. It will be marked up the week of May 1st and head to the Senate floor immediately after. If there is no loud and consistent opposition, it will be law by JUNE! Most bills never go to markup, so this means they are putting pressure to move this through. There are already 20 co-sponsors, a fifth of the entire Senate. This is an uphill battle and it is very much all hands on deck.

CALL YOUR REPRESENTATIVES.

This website takes you to your Senator / House members contact info. EMAIL, MESSAGE, SEND LETTERS, CALL CALL CALL CALL CALL. Calling is the BEST way to get a message through. Get your family and friends to send calls too. This is literally the end of free speech online.

(202) 224-3121 connects you to the congressional hotline. Here is a call script if you don't know what to say. Call them every day. Even on the weekends, leaving voicemails are fine.

2. Sign these petitions!

Link to Petition 1

Link to Petition 2

3. SPREAD THE WORD ONLINE

If you have any social media, spread this online. One of the best ways we fought back against this last year was MASSIVE spread online. Tiktok, reddit, twitter, discord, whatever means you have at least mention it. We could see most social media die out by this fall if we don't fight back.

Here is a linktree with more information on this bill including a masterpost of articles, the links to petitions, and the call script.

DISCORD LINK IF YOU WANT TO HELP FIGHT IT

TLDR: The EARN IT Act will lead to online censorship of any and all adult & lgbt content across the entire internet, open the floodgates to mass surveillance the likes which we haven’t seen before, lead to much more CSEM being distributed online, and destroy encryption. Call 202-224-3121 to connect to your house and senate representative and tell them to VOTE NO on this bill that does not protect anyone and harms everyone.

[yeoldenews]

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].