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#jane’s writing
lunarbuck · 11 months
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Dumb Bunny (dark!winter soldier xf!reader)
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a dark little red riding hood retelling
pairing: dark!winter soldier x f! reader (any race)
wc: 3.3k
summary: The Wolf sees you walking through the forest on your way to your grandmother's house, and he just can't help himself.
warnings: dark fic, knives, oral (f receiving), smut (p in v), pet names [bunny], degradation, primal play, predator/prey, fear, crying
a/n: this is my entry for @boxofbonesfic's fairytale writing challenge :) I hope you guys enjoy!
beta'd by the amazing @sgt-seabass <3
my masterlist
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The sight of your home village warms your heart. You’ve been away for so long and missed so much. It’s good to be back. You pull the hood of your cape up to keep the sun off your face and venture into the heart of the village. 
After gathering some sweets and a few loaves of bread, you bid farewell to the friendly faces you pass. As lovely as the village is, you can’t shake the feeling that something is just slightly… wrong.
The edge of the forest calls to you, the familiar sound of songbirds lulling you in. You’ve traveled this path hundreds of times; you know it with your eyes closed, even after all this time. Beautifully bright flowers bloom just off the beaten path. You gaze at them but don’t stop to pick any. Grandmother is expecting you. It’s been so long since you’ve seen her, you feel guilty you haven’t visited sooner.
As you walk, you hear footsteps crunch through the fallen leaves. You turn around, the hem of your cape fluttering with the movement. Behind you, you see a tall mountain of a man. Cloaked in black, the man stalks toward you. You’ve heard whisperings of him in town, the Wolf, they call him. 
“Excuse me, miss,” he coos, voice deep and gravelly. “Where are you headed? A beautiful girl like you shouldn’t be alone in these woods,” he whispers. “There is danger around every corner.” 
You know what people say about the Wolf, the things he’s rumored to have done. That he’s a killer, that he roams the woods hunting unsuspecting victims. He’s ruthless, coldblooded and animal-like in his violence. You’re sure the rumors are true as you gaze up at his bright eyes. Fear flashes through your mind as you stare at him. His eyes are a stark, beautiful blue. His hair, dark and inky, frames his face, though most of it is covered by a black mask. 
“I’m visiting my grandmother’s house,” you tell him, smiling politely. You’ve always been taught to be kind to strangers, and this stranger, in particular, the way he’s looking at you, seems to scream danger. You don’t want to risk slighting him.
“Ah,” the Wolf replies, raising his eyebrows. “And what might you have there in your basket?” You move the cloth, showing the Wolf your various sweets and loaves of bread. You imagine he is licking his lips behind his mask. Images of his lips on you, of him kissing you deeply, of him tasting you, flash through your mind, and you quickly shut your eyes. You try to shake off the heat that’s settled in your belly. You shouldn’t think that way about a stranger.
“Well, I must be going. Grandmother is expecting me.” You nod to the Wolf and cover your basket, returning to the path you’d been following. Each breath feels tight in your chest.
“What a shame,” he calls. “The birds are singing so sweetly.” Your steps slow as you allow yourself to listen to the songs that float through the air, but you continue on. You can always listen to the birds as you walk.
“Ah, but the flowers are so beautiful this time of year. Wouldn’t your grandmother enjoy a bouquet?” The Wolf asks, again halting your walking. You glance at the flowers off the path, practically preening for you in the sunlight. Grandmother has always loved the wildflowers; maybe you could spare a few moments to gather a small bouquet. 
“I suppose…” You glance back at the Wolf, finding that he has continued to follow you down the path. He’s so close now that if you breathed deeply, your back would touch his chest. Your heart stutters with fear. How did he move so quickly without you hearing? How did you not feel him approach?
“You don’t want to miss out on all the beauty,” he whispers, leaning down beside your ear. With two long fingers, the Wolf tugs your hood off your head, letting the breeze flutter against your neck. He breathes deeply, and your knees wobble as you feel the heat the Wolf emanates. Something sharp trails down your neck, a stinging pain following close behind, and your eyes widen.
Not even a breath later, he’s gone. You shudder at his sudden absence and quickly dart your eyes around, looking for the Wolf, but he’s disappeared into the shadows. 
You try to calm your nerves, focusing instead on the flowers glittering just a few paces away. You kneel down, gathering your skirts to prevent them from getting dirty. The flowers are soft against your fingertips as you pick the perfect ones. All the while, the Wolf’s beautiful blue eyes burn in your mind.
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The Wolf
Poor, poor grandmother, I think to myself as I drag the woman out of her woodland home and into the glade. She’ll wake up eventually, but not before I do what I want. Not before I take care of her sweet, beautiful little granddaughter. 
I go back into the house and take in the empty space. Photos of my little bunny are everywhere, school photos and memories of vacations. She looks so delectable in her too-small bikini, her bright smile practically blinding me. 
Next, I climb the stairs, finding myself in the room I had just dragged her grandmother from. The four-poster bed takes up most of the room, fabric hanging from the top of the frame like a canopy. I grin at the thought of taking my bunny here, her tears staining the blanket. Her screams filling the air. I feel myself hardening in my pants, and I adjust my cock.
When I saw her walking through town, my mouth watered. She looked so beautiful in her red cloak, the sun warming her skin. She looked good enough to fucking eat. I followed her from a distance, but once she entered the forest, I couldn’t hold back any longer. The smell of her when I got close… I could barely hold myself back. I wanted to grab her right then and there. I wanted to fuck her into the dirt. But good things come to those who wait. 
I am not a patient man, and I always get what I want. Always.
So, I lay down on the bed, the canopy concealing me well enough, and wait. 
And wait, and wait.
Until I hear the door creak open. 
“Grandmother?” My bunny calls. I can practically hear the smile on her lips. I grin beneath my mask, fingers itching to touch her. To mark her. I hear her footsteps as she wanders into the house. My heartbeat speeds up, ready for the hunt. 
“Grandmother?” She calls again, this time even closer. I see her shadow as she comes up the stairs, and a moment later, she pushes open the bedroom door. “Oh, Grandmother, are you ill?” Through the canopy, I see her set down a vase of flowers, the ones she picked in the woods, and her basket, full of sweets.  
Her fingers gently curl around the canopy’s fabric and tug it aside. Her eyes widen, and her lips part on a scream, but I’m already moving. I lunge, grab her, and push her down onto the mattress. My hand presses over her mouth, absorbing her scream.
“So fucking beautiful when you scream, bunny,” I growl, dipping my head into the crook of her neck. I breathe her in, the sweet scent of fear mixing with the floral scent of her perfume.
My bunny writhes and struggles against me, but it’s no use. I’m bigger than her, stronger than her. She’ll never escape me. She heaves her breath behind my hand, so I take it off of her, not minding if she screams. No one will hear her anyways. 
“What– what are you doing?” She whimpers, tears streaking down her face.
I don’t answer. Instead, I straddle her hips, pinning her to the bed. I run my hands along her torso and up to her breasts. She fits perfectly in my hands, and I flick my eyes to hers, watching her reaction. I can see the way she struggles with herself. The way she wants to give in to me, but something holds her back. 
“Oh, bunny,” I whisper, my hands coming up to curl around her neck. “What a beautiful neck you have.” I squeeze her neck lightly, giving her just a taste of what I want, and I see the way her pupils dilate. Her hips jolt up into mine, and I grin beneath my mask.
She breathes heavily, lips parting into a perfect, soft ‘o’. “And what perfect lips you have.” I move one hand up, running my thumb across her beautiful mouth. I lean down close, cupping her jaw. 
I want to taste her, I want to rip this fucking mask off my face and taste my little bunny, but I can’t. Not yet. I need to be patient. I sit up, slipping a knife out of my belt and flicking it open. Her eyes widen at the glinting blade.
“Please,” she whispers, tears brimming in her eyes again. “Please don’t hurt me.” I grin.
“My poor, stupid, little bunny. The more you beg me not to, the more I want to hurt you.” She tugs her bottom lip between her teeth, and I stifle a moan. I don’t know how I’ve lived so long without her, how I’m going to go on living if I don’t have her by my side.
“What did you do to my grandmother?” She asks, voice wavering.
“You don’t want to know, bunny.” Her tears stream down her cheeks, and she hiccups as she sobs. She’s fucking perfect. I take in the sight of her blood-red cloak stark against the white sheets. I run the knife along the side of her face, not cutting or scratching her but letting her feel the sharp edge. 
I slide off the bed, dragging the knife down the center of her sternum between her breasts and down her torso. I see the thoughts running through her pretty little head. I know she wants to run. I hope she does. I step back and watch her fingers twitch before she darts off the bed. Her red cape flutters behind her as she saints down the stairs. I give her a head start before giving chase. My little bunny is more perfect than she could ever know.
After taking a steadying breath, I take off after my bunny. She left the front door open, and I catch sight of the hem of her cape as she dives behind a tree. She ran pretty far, I’ll give her that, but she won’t escape me. Never.
My feet pound on the ground as I chase her, adrenaline coursing through my veins. She keeps running, doing her best to hide as she goes deeper into the forest, but she’s not fast enough. I catch up quickly, making sure she knows just how close I am. Whenever she hears my boots snap a twig, she yelps, tripping over her feet. As we get further away from the house, she loses steam. I grin as she stumbles, constantly looking back to see me hunting her. 
Bunny’s cape gets caught on a branch, and she falls, landing hard in the dirt. She tries to crawl away, but she knows it’s no use. I stalk toward her, loving the way she shakes with each breath, and sink to the ground by her head.
I grip her by her hair, lifting her face out of the dirt, and lean down. “You lose, bunny.” She gasps as I bring out my knife, holding it near her cheek as I turn her. Even though she ran and wants to think she’s afraid of me, I know what she wants. I can fucking smell it on her. Can taste it in the air. 
“Please,” she whispers, fingers digging into the leaves on the ground. Her thighs rub together beneath her skirts, and my mouth waters. I know she won’t run this time, not when she’s so close to getting what she wants.
I remove my mask, tugging it from my face with my other hand. Her lips part as her eyes search my features. I move between her legs, running a hand along one of her legs. I push up her skirt, exposing her soft skin. With my knife, I run the tip along her leg, up and up, until I reach her panties. She can’t hide how needy she is. My bunny writhes in the dirt, begging me to touch her with her big beautiful eyes. I slide my knife beneath the waistband of her panties, slicing the fabric. I cut a matching slit near her other leg, tugging the material away. She shivers as the cool air hits her cunt.
“What a pretty pussy you have, bunny,” I growl, lowering my face to the crux of her thighs. She watches me with lust-filled eyes, nodding like the dumb little bunny she is. I bite her inner thigh, leaving an imprint of my teeth on her skin.
“What beautiful eyes you have,” she tells me, a small smile on her lips. 
“The better to see you with, bunny.” I run my nose along her pussy, and she bites back a moan. My tongue laves along her clit, and I hear her breath hitch. 
“What–” she gasps when I press a finger inside her tight cunt. “What a perfect mouth you have.” I groan against her pussy, devouring her like my last meal. 
“The better to eat you with,” I mutter into her pussy. Her fingers tangle in my hair, pulling me closer. She tastes so fucking sweet, practically dripping against my lips. I knew my bunny would be perfect, but she’s better than I ever could have dreamed. 
“Please, please,” she whimpers, begging for her release. I curl my finger inside of her, looking for the spot that makes her squirm, and brush my teeth over her sensitive clit. My little bunny is so responsive for me, writhing around in the dirt. 
“So fucking sweet, bunny, my own little treat.” Her whimpers get higher pitched, and I know she’s close. I’m practically humping the dirt, I’m so hard, but all I can think about is how good my bunny is being and how fucking perfect she’s going to feel wrapped around my cock. 
I work her right up to the edge, and when she’s gripping my hair so hard she’s about to pull it out, she breaks. She comes all over my tongue and finger, and it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.
I crawl up over her, my tongue running over my lips, gathering her taste. “What a good bunny,” I whisper, taking in the sight of her blissed-out expression. She wants more, though, I can tell. 
Her eyes roam over my face, her hands tracing over my features. Her lips part, but she can’t seem to find the words. “Tell me what you want, bunny.” My finger circles her sensitive clit; she jolts. 
She shudders but doesn’t speak. “Come on, bunny. I know you’re afraid. I know that you don’t want to admit it. You want my cock? Is that it, bunny? You want me to fuck you here in the dirt?” Her eyebrows pinch together, and fear flashes in her eyes. She knows I’m dangerous; she knows I am unpredictable.
“You wanna be my dirty bunny?” I ask her, nipping at the soft skin of her neck. “You’re my dumb fucking bunny, you know that? You’re gonna let me fuck you into the dirt, and you’re gonna love every second of it, isn’t that right?”
“Oh my god,” she moans, hips bucking against my fingers. “Please.”
“I need to hear you say it, bunny.” I bite her shoulder hard enough to draw blood, and she gasps. “Tell me that you’re my dumb little bunny. Tell me what you want me to do.”
I see the way she hesitates, the way her mind runs through all the reasons she should fight me, but then I see the shift. I see the moment lust takes over, and she succumbs to her primal desires.
“I’m your dumb little bunny,” she whispers. I slide two fingers into her pussy, scissoring my fingers to stretch her. “And–” she sucks in a breath. “And I want– need you to fuck me.”
“Such a good bunny.” I settle back between her legs and pump my fingers, working her up again. I use my other hand to take off my belt. When my pants are down far enough, I palm my cock, moaning. She watches me with hooded, lust-drunk eyes, and I smirk. My dumb little bunny looks so pretty taking my fingers, but she’ll look even better taking my cock.
I take a long look at her pretty face before I grip her hips and turn her over. Hooking my hands underneath her, I position her with her ass high and her head in the dirt. This is how she was meant to be; she was fucking born for this. 
I line my cock up with her perfect pussy and tease her clit, loving how she jolts each time. My little bunny has never looked better with her skirt shoved up on her waist and her face pressed against the earth.
“What a perfect bunny for me,” I tell her, spanking her ass. I press my cock into her, groaning as she squeezes me. She’s so fucking tight, so perfect, like she was made for me. Made for this. I slide in, loving how she stretches around my dick. Her face screws up the deeper I get, but I don’t give her time to adjust. 
I set a brutal, deep pace, and electricity shoots up my spine. The sounds she’s making, the way her fingers dig into the dirt, are nearly too much for me to handle. The smell of sex and earth floods my nose, and I feel it flood my bloodstream. 
She moans and whimpers with each thrust, pressing back with each thrust, egging me on. My little bunny wants me just as much as I want her. I lean down, wrapping an arm around her shoulders, and haul her torso up so she’s kneeling, arching against me. I run my tongue along the spot I’d cut earlier when I’d first spoken to her, tasting the sweet tang of her blood.
My little bunny has tears streaming down her dirt-streaked face. Her eyes are screwed shut as she takes my dick.
“Such a good little bunny,” I groan into her ear. “You were fucking made for this. You were fucking born to be my dumb bunny, to take my cock.” Her cunt flutters around my dick, and my hips stutter.
“Yes, yes, yes,” she chants like a prayer. I drop a hand to her clit and circle it in a way that makes her throw her head back, and bite the cut on her neck. The combination of sensations throws her over the edge, and she convulses on my cock.
I press her back into the dirt and pound into her, slamming into her over and over again. I come on a moan, both of us collapsing. “Good bunny,” I whisper. “Such a good little bunny.”
She falls asleep, drained from the way I used her body, and I grin at the sight. She should know better than to fall asleep next to a predator like me. I brush the dirt from my pants, tucking my cock away, and pick her up. I carry her back to her grandmother’s house and lay her on the four-poster bed. 
Next, I retrieve poor old grandmother. She’s still asleep. The drug I gave her will wear off soon. I place her on the couch in the front room. I’ll let my bunny find her when she comes to. I return to the bedroom and stare at my beautiful little bunny. 
I don’t clean her up; I don’t even put her dress back. She looks perfect, dirty, and used against the bone-white sheets.
Just the way I like her.
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yeoldenews · 3 months
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A Guide to Historically Accurate Regency-Era Names
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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].
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bluerosefox · 5 days
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Kidnapped Persephone Style
Me: *tossing prompt idea up and down in the air before chucking it into the Void we call the internet*
Jason is dating Ghost Prince (not yet King) Danny and goes on a really awesome and romantic date on his day off. He forgot to tell the fam though. So when Red Robin comes to give Jason an update on some entil, he watches in muted horror as Jason is 'kidnapped' by a glowing entity in black armor and a nightmare looking horse (Danny is a bit busy doing paperwork, so he had his Fright Knight pick Jason up) off of a Gotham rooftop and into a green portal, while the knight had proclaimed Jason as their future Kings 'intended'..
No one on coms is ready for Tim to yell out
"I THINK JASON JUST GOT KIDNAPPED PERSEPHONE STYLE!!"
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celestialwrites · 3 months
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fluffy romance dialogue prompts ˚ ༘♡ ⋆。˚
@celestialwrites for more!
♡ “please stop before i fall in love with you!”
♡ “you are my home too, you know?”
♡ “stop being so pretty, it hurts.”
♡ “you need help.” “no, i need you.”
♡ “what’s your problem?” “you, apparently.”
♡ “you are beautiful, my jaw was on the floor the first time i saw you, just thought you should know that.”
♡ “the guy looks at you like you hold the galaxy in the palm of your hand and you think he doesn’t love you?”
♡ “i am yours just as much as you are mine.”
♡ “you want me to shout from the rooftops? because damn it, (nickname) i will.”
♡ “do you like me?” “something like that..”
♡ “ah, so you’re like my book boyfriend now, huh?” “what on earth is a book boyfriend?”
♡ “i’m not going to sit here and pretend like you don’t own my heart, like i haven’t been yours since the moment i saw you.”
♡ “you and me?” “always.”
♡ “i can’t stand you.” “weird way to propose but the answer is yes.”
♡ “read to me.” [how to make a bookworm fall in love with you 101]
♡ “i don’t deserve you.” “yes, you do.”
♡ “i know you better than you know yourself.”
REBLOG TO SUPPORT YOUR LOCAL WRITERS!!
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Darcy: She hates me, she hates me. Nothing I can do to fix that right now. But over my dead body, she'll like Wickham.
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0l-unreliable · 3 months
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made this for my 69th Instagram post. They're all terrible servers btw
Jane very obviously judges your desert order, no one can read Roxy's writing, Jake constantly trips and drops things, and Dirk replaces at least one thing in every order with orange-flavored shit.
(beta kids below)
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dearausten · 11 months
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nah cause the fact that jane austen wrote a character like emma woodhouse is still insane to me. she threw all the standards out the window and was like hey, here’s this incredibly complex and nuanced character, she’s selfish, privileged, manipulative and arrogant, but she’s also really fucking kind, she would do anything for those she loves (including sacrificing a lot of her liberties), she is able to admit that she’s made a mistake and grow from it, because those things are not mutually exclusive. and i think the reason why everyone is trying to girlbossify their heroines to make them like lizzie bennet (which is an insult to her character but that’s another story) is because they’re scared to write characters like emma. which is understandable, because she’s unlikeable-ish, and they don’t want to take that risk.
honestly the way jane wrote emma is IMPECCABLE and not everyone can pull it off, but i wish female characters with actual flaws were more popular.
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fierce-sims · 2 months
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Save me tutorial Joe and Jane… save me…
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buddyhollyscurls · 22 days
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Trying to sleep and was looking at books and that eventually led me to think of Pride and Prejudice and yk what moment we need to appreciate more?
That scene where Caroline is doing her pick me shit and joking with Darcy about Elizabeth's pretty eyes and she's like when you guys get your marriage portrait done do you think any painter could do her eyes justice?
And our boy Fitzy doesn't even HESITATE he's like I think a painter would do a great job at getting her eyelashes and the way they look in the sunlight and it's just like
MY GUY HAD U ALREADY BEEN THINKING ABOUT THAT??? U HAD THE ANSWER LOCKED AND LOADED WERE U ON YE OLDE GOOGLE LOOKING UP WEDDING PORTRAIT ARTISTS NEAR ME??? DID U HAVE A REGENCY ERA PINTERST BOARD OF UR DREAM WEDDING TO LIZZY ALREADY MADE UP????
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future-crab · 8 months
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The thing about TMA is that if I think about Sasha James too much I will cry and if I think about Michael Shelley too much I will cry and if I think about Agnes Montegue too much I will cry and if I think about Jonathan Sims too much I will cry and if I think about Naomi Herne too much I will cry and if I think about Gerry Keay too much I will cry and if I think about Tim Stoker too much I will cry and if I think about Jane Prentiss too much I will cry and if I think about Martin Blackwood too much I will cry and—
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lunarbuck · 7 months
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Kinktober Week 1: Table/Threesome/Sensory Dep
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header by @jen-with-a-pen
Pairing: Stucky x f!reader (any race)
WC: 1.4k
Prompt: Table sex/threesome/sensory deprivation
Warnings: blindfold, ear plugs, gag, oral (m and f receiving), smut (p in v), threesome, pet names [princess]
a/n: I refuse to apologize for how much stucky y’all are gonna see this month 😤 not beta’d, all mistakes are my own
my masterlist | kinktober masterlist | @lunarbucklibrary
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“Okay, show me again,” Bucky instructs, watching your face carefully. You pick up the dog trainer clicker and run the pad of your thumb over the button.
Click. “One click for good or green, two for slow down or yellow, three for red. Stop.” Bucky glances at Steve, catching him grinning down at you. This is a big moment for the three of you; it means so much to them that you’d trust them enough with this. To let them push your boundaries and test your limits. 
“And we’ll do check-ins by tapping you here,” Steve says, reaching out to your wrist and pressing on the sensitive skin on the inside of your arm. “Are you ready?” You nod, clicking the button once. 
Bucky takes a deep breath, then he and Steve begin moving in unison. While Steve helps you press the plugs into your ears, Bucky wraps the blindfold over your eyes, tying it at the back of your head. Together, they secure a soft gag in your mouth. If you try hard enough, you know you can get it loose, but it’ll take a lot of effort.
When they’re done, you can’t see or hear a thing. Perched on the dinner table and dressed only in your panties and a bra, you suddenly feel incredibly exposed. You can feel the moment they step away from you, losing the heat of their bodies. 
Suddenly, hands cup your cheeks, tipping your face up. Lips connect with your forehead, and you know Steve is kissing you. His usual soft demeanor is slipping, excitement bleeding into his actions, and you drink it all in. 
Metal fingers trace down your arm, sending shivers down your spine. Bucky undoes the clasp of your bra and tugs the garment off your body. His hands cup your breasts, rolling your nipples between his fingers. The difference in temperature between flesh and metal heightens the pleasure, and you feel a whimper escape your lips. 
You’ve seen Bucky and Steve work together enough that you know they’re exchanging glances, guiding each other to find a way to draw the most pleasure out of you. They work in tandem, so in synch, you sometimes think they can read each other’s thoughts. 
Lips trail down your neck to your tits. A tongue swirls around your nipple before teeth graze over the bud. You gasp, arching against the cool wood of the table. Those teeth continue their descent, dragging over your stomach before latching on to your panties and tugging them down your legs. 
You can tell it’s Steve as he settles between your thighs, his familiar bulk warming you. You can practically feel his eyes as they roam over your exposed pussy, and you arch for him, silently begging for him to give you what you want. 
Steve drags his tongue up your pussy before pressing it against your clit, causing you to moan, the vibration rattling your chest. Metal fingers tap on the inside of your wrist, asking for a check-in.
You press the button in your fingers and nod, a smile tugging at your lips. Bucky taps again, confirming that he knows you’re okay before letting his hand trail across your body to your neck. He wraps those fingers around the column of your throat and squeezes gently, just enough to give you a taste. He withdraws and comes back a moment later, shifting the gag to drag the head of his cock against your lips. You open wide, taking him in hungrily, and let him use your mouth. 
Steve eats you out in earnest while Bucky fucks your mouth, and all you can do is hold on to the table as tightly as you can. Without being able to see and hear, your other senses are dialed up to 1000. You know you’re making noises; you can feel them leaving your body in heavy breaths and whimpers, but the fact that you can’t hear them is so strange. 
You run your tongue along the soft skin of Bucky’s dick and relish the salty taste of him. He hits the back of your throat, and you can nearly hear the groan he releases at the feeling.
Bucky angles your head so you take him even deeper as Steve drives you right to the edge of an orgasm. Your fingers tangle in Steve’s hair, keeping him right where you want him, and Bucky’s hand squeezes your throat. 
Steve hooks his arms around your legs, pressing his hands down on your lower belly as you come. You shake in his hold, arching against the table. Bucky’s grip on you eases, but he keeps fucking your mouth as you come down from the high. You can tell he’s close by the way his hips stutter and lose their rhythm, so you try to relax even more for him, taking more of his cock into your throat. He’s big, so it’s no easy feat, but you feel incredible knowing that you’re making him come undone. You’re the one making him feel so good. 
You can imagine the way Bucky is probably grinding his jaw, the way he’s probably wound so tight, ready to snap. He shudders and comes, filling your throat and mouth. You do your best to swallow what you can, but you can feel some leaking out the side of your mouth and down your cheek as he pulls out. Bucky’s calloused thumb swipes along your face and presses against your lips so you lick his finger clean. Once he’s satisfied, Bucky puts the gag back in place.
Another tap to your wrist, this time from Steve, pulls your attention back, and you grab the clicker, pressing the button once. He acknowledges the check-in before grasping your hips and flipping you over. He pulls you to the edge of the table, your legs hanging over the edge, and you shiver in anticipation. 
You feel Steve’s hands as they run down your back, anchoring themselves on your waist. Bucky must have moved to stand near him because his hands join in, caressing and teasing every inch of your skin. Hands hold you steady as Steve positions his cock at your entrance. Normally, he’d be whispering sweet, filthy words in your ear, and you’re sure he’s still saying it all even though you can’t hear him.
He sinks inside of you slowly, inch by inch. You try to wiggle back against him to take more of him, but Bucky holds you down, halting your movements. Steve takes his time, pulling out slightly before giving you another inch. It’s agonizing, tortuous. When he’s finally fully inside of you, you writhe against Bucky’s hold, begging for Steve to end his tormenting and just fuck you. 
You know you’re begging. You know they’re probably grinning ear to ear at the sound of those wanton whimpers muffled by the gag. They’ve always loved to hear you beg, and it seems to do the trick.
Steve pulls all the way out before slamming back inside of you, making your hips dig into the table. The bite of pain makes you ache for pleasure, and Steve gives it to you. He gives it to you hard and fast, hitting spots inside of you that make you see stars. You know Bucky is probably teasing Steve while he fucks you, goading him on to fuck you like you deserve, and you love it. 
You love the way Steve is pressing you down and making you take his cock. You love the way Bucky’s fingers slide down your ass to where you’re connected to Steve, teasing both of you at the same time. You love the way that they know exactly what you want without you having to say a single word. 
Your orgasm blooms in your belly, and before you know it, the wave is crashing over you. Your legs buckle, but your two men hold you steady. You moan around the gag and shake as Steve follows you over the edge. Heat floods your pussy as he comes inside of you. When he pulls out, Bucky lifts you from the table and sits down with you in his lap. 
Together, Steve and Bucky bring you back to the real world. The gag is undone, and the earplugs are plucked out. Finally, they remove the blindfold. You rub your eyes as they adjust to the light, your vision blurry and fuzzy. 
“How’re you feeling, princess?” Steve asks, rubbing your back. You grin up at him and see his bright eyes shining back,
“Incredible.” Bucky kisses your cheek, and the two of them help you to the bathroom, where they run a bath. Never in your life have you trusted someone enough to take away your senses and control, but Bucky and Steve are just so… different. They make you feel so safe, so protected. You can’t wait to see what the three of you try next.
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I am discontinuing my taglist. Follow my library blog @lunarbucklibrary and turn on notifications to be notified everytime I post new writing!! Must be 18+
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thoughtkick · 1 year
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I was quiet; but I was not blind.
Jane Austen
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hacash · 2 months
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the literally only amendment I'd make to pride and prejudice is a flashforward where charlotte collins née lucas is tragically widowed in her late thirties/early forties and uses the financial independence of her widowhood to move to london, buy a nice house, go to parties, take some dashing naval officer ten years her junior as a second husband and pretty much have the life she never was able to have when she was young.
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rustandruin · 9 months
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Finding out that Crowley knew Jane Austen but never knew she wrote books and then them encountering her books in Aziraphale’s bookshop and briefly checking them out before actually having to proceed on a storyline where they have to meddle and ensure two people fall in love while clearly nursing their own feelings… That scene was for me personally.
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quietwingsinthesky · 3 months
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seriously though, something i love about the sarah jane adventures is just how poorly sarah jane manages to be a functional adult. start of the series, she has no friends except an alien computer and a robot dog. she’s fumbling her way through parenting every step of the way. she cannot interact with maria’s dad normally in any way. she takes this bunch of kids and goes, “yeah, you’re about as qualified as i was to start dealing with aliens, how do you feel about being in mortal danger?” the minute she feels like she’s about to lose anyone, she shuts down emotionally and pushes them away. she’s in her late 50s and she’s still figuring her shit out, and i love that for her.
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fictionadventurer · 11 months
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Maybe the thing that makes Austen the gold standard of romance is her focus on "esteem" as the all-important factor in a relationship. Your partner has to be someone you can respect. They have to have traits you admire. You have to value them, not just for the security they can provide or the feelings they give you, but as a separate, unique person.
This is so different from the bad romances I see in so many other places, where the two people are attracted to each other almost against their will. They'll be like, "I hate him and everything he stands for, but I just can't stop thinking about him," or the girl will obsess over the guy's body or whatever. We're supposed to believe that this attraction overcomes all the obstacles so they'll fall in love. But as a reader, I'm looking on like, "Okay, but do you even like him? What is there that you find admirable about him? Do you respect his judgement, his skills, his values? Why am I supposed to believe he'll be a good partner for you just because you stopped bickering for five minutes?"
Austen doesn't forget that the purpose of a romance is not to find someone who makes you happy now, but someone who'll be a good partner to help you navigate the rest of your adult life. You have to engage your mind as well as your heart to find someone that you can respect as a separate person before you can join hands in marriage.
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