#Bones Cynthia

[sleepyfangirl18]

Rewatched Bones after so many years. I think the last time I watched it when it came out. One thing that tripped me out is the scene with Cynthia in the room sleeping. At first it looks like Patrick went in and stared groping her, but then it wasn't. So I'm wondering...was that Jimmy? Or just a disturbing dream?

[forgetmenautical]

more of @ofstormsandfire ‘s stuff…

[sinnohelitefourlore]

For those of you thank love the sinnoh elite four like I do, I've been binging these fics that showcase their relationships with each other, and it's magnificent. Have a go at reading them :) fics by @inkthecat

[crystalelemental]

How much you wanna bet SS Cynthia gets Downside Up on her grid expansion?

[andrumedus]

If I can, I will Become you.

Cynthia Cruz, Ruin; “Door to Heaven II”

[purupurple]

finally took care of unfinished business from last year

[fashionseenontvblog]

02x11

CeCe Flutter Sleeve Ruffled Floral Blouse Golden Hour - $45.90

BCBGMAXAZRIA Accordion Pleated Midi Skirt - $79.99

Gianni Bini Keily Palm Printed Bow Detail Block Heel Dress Sandals - EUR 61.08

Rag & Bone Watch Leather Belt - $175

Miss Checker Women Checkered Tote Bags Fashion Shoulder Bags Cross Body Bag Female Handbags White - $46.88

[jbaileyfansite]

The Wall Street Journal Interview (2024)

The 36-year-old English actor Jonathan Bailey is one of Hollywood’s newest heartthrobs. From Shonda Rhimes's Regency-era courtship dramas of “Bridgerton” to the decades-long romantic-political saga of “Fellow Travelers” to the Met Gala red carpet, he has earned admirers with his goofy charm and deep looks of longing.“

Being acknowledged as a heartthrob is incredibly flattering,” Bailey said. “It’s a big compliment, not just to you as an actor but everything around you.”

It has been a life-changing few years for Bailey, a stage actor turned screen darling. After “Bridgerton” launched him to global fame, he wrote up a document with tips to help prepare his younger castmates for the attention their on-screen romances would earn. “I think it’s about how to approach the work in a way that allows you to feel yourself and grounded,” he said.

Bailey, who’s been acting since he was a child in the Royal Shakespeare Company, reprises the role of Anthony in the third season of “Bridgerton” this month. Later this year, he’ll appear as Fiyero in the film adaptation of “Wicked” with Ariana Grande and Cynthia Erivo. He lives outside of London. Here, he talks about his favorite tea, doing gymnastics and the advice he got from Sir Ian McKellen.

What time do you get up on Mondays, and what’s the first thing you do after waking up?

I try to get up between 7 and 8. Then I try to not look at my phone, which sometimes works and sometimes doesn’t. If it’s a good day, I drink loads of water, have a bath and then just get out because I need to get outside. I’ll go for a walk, always with my headphones. If I feel a bit excited or my brain’s sort of alive, I’ll listen to a podcast because that keeps me quite calm. If not, I’ll listen to some drums and bass. 

How do you like your coffee? 

I love tea. Earl Grey tea for me. I love coffee as well.

What do you do for exercise?

I’m currently training for a half marathon. Then I do gymnastics at a local gym with loads of lovely, brilliant people. I’m part of that community, which I’m very proud of. I do handstands.

How long can you hold a handstand for?

I’ve gotten up to a minute. 

Do you meditate or journal or otherwise practice mindfulness?

Walking outside is meditation to me. There was a Buddhist center I loved when I was living in London, and I’d go there regularly to learn the practice of meditation. I believe in taking bits and bobs that work for you. I do write stuff down in a book that I carry with me, lessen the load in the brain when I can. 

Do you have any hobbies or habits that might surprise your fans? 

Probably playing loud music and dancing around naked. 

“Fellow Travelers” follows your character, Tim, as he falls for Matt Bomer’s Hawk over the course of several decades, from 1950s McCarthyism to the AIDS crisis in the 1980s. How did you get into character? 

With Tim, I felt like there was so much understanding that was in my bones already just from being me. Understanding the character who you’re playing opposite is also really good. Me and Matt, we didn’t really talk about it but we had that understanding of the experience of what these queer, gay people were experiencing.

Beyond that, I think about my forefathers and what an incredible opportunity it was to an academic, hands-on research of gay life in America. As a Brit, there was so much to learn, so the preparation was kind of nerdy in that respect. In another, it was incredibly emotional and spiritual. 

You’ve become very famous for the looks of longing that you’ve perfected. Do you practice them in the mirror?

No, unfortunately, I probably practiced them in real life all the way through my childhood. It’s funny, isn’t it? I can totally understand why people say that, but I think maybe what fascinates me most about humans is there’s always a distance between what you want and what you have and who you are and who you want to be. I mean, if I’m still longing and 92 years old, then I’m going to be very happy. 

How did you prepare to model swimwear for Orlebar Brown? Was there any part of you that was nervous? 

I had been doing gymnastics, so the swimsuit-model aspect of it required a couple of weeks of doing more handstandy stuff. But no, I was excited. 

There were some cute photos of you and Ariana Grande released from the set of “Wicked.” Do you have any favorite memories from filming? 

I went to CinemaCon and it was the launch of all of us together. I watched the trailer for the first time, I’m so glad I waited to see it in the big cinema. I just watched Cynthia [Erivo] and I was, like, God, Cynthia’s just going to blow everyone’s mind. You care so much about her in it. And Ari redefines Glinda in a really fun way, it just expands. 

There’s so much love for the original material. It was really fun and silly and great. Jon M. Chu [the director] just mines the emotion and is quite sincere about the truth of what’s going on with the characters.

What’s your most prized possession?

My headphones. If I lose them, I feel crazy. But also in 2017—I saved up and it felt incredibly frivolous—I started collecting the Yves Saint Laurent love prints, the original prints of the years that my sisters were born because there are four of us. Annoying actually, one of my sisters was born in 1982, and I don’t think there is a print for that year, so I might have to do a stickman or something. 

What’s one piece of advice you’ve gotten that’s guided you? 

Always do theater. That was actually from Ian McKellen. It’s in my bones anyway.

Source

[onestepbackwards]

something i came up for the self aware!pla au. so, you know how the game shows us the ancestors of current day pokemon characters (kamado > rowan and all that)? so, what if the characters ingame knew about that, and went to you to figure out just who and what their descendant will be like. decided to drop a few dribbles for that:

cyllene:

cyllene was the first person to ask you about what will become of her legacy, and who will be the next person to carry the torch. the whole idea that someone will be there after her fascinates her, but unfortunately for you and her.. you played pokemon platinum before. you know you gotta tell her. after a long explanation about who cyrus is, his motivation and what will he do to sinnoh scares her, to say the least. truly, how one like HIM gets to carry the family name is a disgrace, but.. she feels sorry for him, in a way. judging by the way he grew up, it's no wonder he turned out the way he did. maybe cyllene won't be able to do much now, but she will try her hardest to prevent that mistake from happening again.

kamado:

while you always had a bone to pick with the guy, you were quite surprised to see him ask you about just WHO his future great-great-great-great-great grandson is gonna be. will he stay honorable? will he learn from kamado's mistakes and stay off the path he carved to himself? maybe. surprisingly enough, he was more than delighted to hear that his grandson was gonna be a pokemon professor. beats being a war monger, at least.. and who knows, maybe he'll even be like laventon! wouldn't hurt to have a brilliant mind in the bloodline.

volo & cogita:

another curious pair who heard about the ancestry thing. with both of them already recognizing you for your "true, godly powers", they figured out you could give them the answers. you ARE all-knowing, after all. of course, they bicker with each other before you can finally give them the answer. volo wishes that HIS descendant got HIS smarts and didn't cogita's attitude, while cogita wishes that HER descendant got HER manners, and not volo's ego. luckily, you tell them that their descendant, cynthia, got the best of both worlds and none of the worst. you continue telling them about her, and you can't help but see cogita perk up when she hears the word "champion". oh, what a grandiose title! truly, only one of her bloodline can afford one as such! but volo finds more excitement when you tell him that cynthia is just as interested in history and ruins as he is, while sharing a team thats ALMOST identical to his. a garchomp AND a spiritomb? yeah, she's his descendant, no word about it.

It would be such a funny experience fksjfj

“Oh great god, what are my descendants like? Do you know?”

And your face varies over who asks.

Cyllene asks and you just 😬

“Um… I respect you too much to lie but… he kinda tries to commit universal genocide and attempts to become a god of a new universe??”

Cyllene is deathly still.

“He what.”

You are frantically moving you hands.

“No worries! The hero stopped them in their time too!”

Cyllene slumps back in her chair.

“Is… that why they always seemed so nervous around me at first?”

“If it’s any consultation, someone here tried to do the same thing, when ironically his descendant helped the hero stop your descendant??”

She rubs her temples, clearly getting a migraine.

“Please, could you elaborate?”

“On what?”

“Everything.”

You could probably tell others too about their descendants with various reactions.

“Oh yeah, Beni’s descendant almost became champion. Dude became a powerful trainer in the future, rivaled by the eventual champion themself.”

“…”

“Was the real underdog. Sweet kid too.”

You could also do this to fuck with random people, should you desire it.

“Oh yeah! Your descendants do great thing! Until the accident.”

“The what.”

“I have to go.”

I love these ideas though 💕💕 especially telling Volo or Cogita about Cynthia, explaining she is one of the strongest, most ruthless champions across the world.

They would have an ego about it.

And I feel Komado would find some peace with his descendant being a professor. When you tell him about how the hero even knows him, he feels a bit worse though.

No wonder the hero trusted him so easily, if they knew his descendant. His act of banishing them probably hurt even more now that he knows that.

He probably now has caused his descendant strife if the hero eve returns to their time. He knows he caused damage, he just silently hopes and prays his descendant is spared from the hero’s pain.

[hippolotamus]

WIP Wednesday 💚

Tagged by the lovely and talented @spotsandsocks @lemonzestywrites @wikiangela @hoodie-buck @fortheloveofbuddie @bidisasterbuckdiaz @rmd-writes @the-likesofus @daffi-990 @diazsdimples @tizniz @loveyouanyway @underwater-ninja-13 @thekristen999 for some combination of Tuesday/Wednesday. Thank you loves!

Squeaking in just after midnight in my time zone with something new. Because, as the saying goes, there's nothing a new WIP can't fix. The best I can say about it right now is a bit of a character study, maybe 5+1 situation about Lucy Donato. Because I'm unapologetically in love with her. I want to post everything I've written so far but I'll spare your dash.

“Lucy! Come on down. You’re going to miss the bus!”  “Be right there!” Lucy yells back.  She’s not going to be late. Because it’s the first day of second grade and there’s absolutely no way that weasel, Julian, is going to beat her to the bus stop. Even if he is a grade ahead of her, she’s faster and she knows it. She can feel it down in her bones.  She finishes clipping the straps of her denim overall shorts before sitting down to put on her yellow socks and brand new shoes. Her mom and dad had let her pick them out all on her own this year. Bright white sneakers emblazoned with Buttercup, Blossom and Bubbles from her favorite cartoon. Today is the first time Lucy’s allowed to wear them due to her mom being convinced she would get them filthy otherwise. After her laces are tied, she hurriedly stands then takes the steps two at a time until she’s close enough to jump the rest of the way.  Her mom sighs from behind the freezer door where she’s grabbing an ice pack for Lucy’s lunchbox. “How many times have I told you-”  An exasperated look comes over her mom’s face when she notices Lucy standing there. She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath before opening them again. “I thought you were going to wear that nice green dress Aunt Cynthia bought for you? We had everything all picked out last night. What happened?” Lucy shrugs. “I can’t wear sneakers with that and I have to wear them so I can be faster than Julian.” “Unbelievable,” her mom mutters under her breath. “It’s your first day and you need to put on something nice. Go hurry and get changed so I don’t have to drive you in.” “But-” Lucy begins to protest, but is quickly dismissed. “Change clothes. Now.” “Fine!” Lucy stomps back up to her bedroom, slamming the door shut behind her. She kicks off her shoes and throws the rest of her clothes in a heap on the floor. Her body feels too gangly and uncoordinated as she slips the sleeveless, knee-length dress over her head. She adds the stupid, matching green gingham headband, letting it push back her hair that’s more white than blonde from all her time spent in the sun.  Lastly, she angrily stuffs her feet into the uncomfortable tan sandals, securing the strap over her ankles. The bottoms are hard and flat with no spring to them. How is she meant to get to the stop first in these awful things?

it's late but no pressure tagging some beloveds @bidisasterbuckdiaz @saybiwithme @shortsighted-owl @eddiebabygirldiaz @stereopticons @jesuisici33 @honestlydarkprincess @maygrantgf @lucydonato @theotherbuckley @fortheloveofbuddie @buddierights @elvensorceress @gayedmundodiaz @giddyupbuck 😘

[gremlingottoosilly]

And they said I couldn't be a psychologist [COD x fem! Reader]

Tired of living with a family that genuinely thinks that being a psychologist is a wild ride to being poor and lonely? Got too many student loans to ever think that you will be able to repay them? Just join the army! Good company, great benefits and lots and lots of travel.

AO3

Characters featured in this chapter: Captain John Price This fanfic will contain incorrect use of psychology, my dead dreams of becoming a therapist instead of a journalist, basically a harem "The only girl on the team" plot and a reader who can't fight to save her life, literally. Each chapter will concentrate on one or few characters at the same time, I hope you will like it!

Google search: average school psychologist salary in my state

Allow Google to search for your location?

Fuck it, the government already know who you are, where you are exactly, and what you will do with this pretty wrecked mental state of mine, if I wouldn’t get an affirmative answer.

School Psychologists made a median salary of $62 000 in 202X.

Google search: average psychologist salary in my state without Master’s degree

National average salary for Bachelors in psychology is: $32,395 per year

Google search: master’s degree psychology how much

Average cost to earn a master’s degree in Clinical Psychology: $62,650

Average cost to earn your doctorate in psychology: $115,500

Google search: how many days can person not eat

Google search: annual striper’s salary

Google search: can I become a stripper if I’m not attractive

Google search: Army enlisting

💬💬💬

In highsight, perhaps, you should have stayed with the stripper option. Sure, it would be a lot more mentally draining, but at least you would make much more money out of the utter humiliation this work would promise to be every day. Military, on the other side of the spectrum, wasn’t really different from being a sex worker – you are still selling your body and mind, still have too much time in a dominantly male field, and will probably experience a lot more patriarchy sausage parties once you get there. The only thing that was different was the employer. 

And tax benefits. 

And health insurance. 

And a special program for those who would like to receive an education after they are done killing people, but don’t want to pay more than 100 000 dollars for a diploma that would look good on exactly one photo on the wall and then would be forgotten by pursuing the career of a sandwich artist. Ah, oh no. Negative thinking again. 

Jesus fucking – oh no, blasphemy, looking not good for your all-american goody-two-shoes portfolio – Christ, you have to get herself together – and at least somewhat presentable, even this would mean very little, considering the fact that for a woman in such masculine field, any signs of traditionally feminine things would be considered a bone thrown to a pack of wolves, but…no, no, no. You can’t have this new age psychology shit while she is on a mission…by being a new age psychologist, enlisted to the army just because you don't want to be a stripper, and too slow to become a good drug dealer. 

Cynthia Cockburn once wrote an essay about women's role in maintaining patriarchy by joining the army. How a lot of females are helping salvage the old system, that has to be put down for good for a long time already – and how this system continuously throws them out, without even acknowledging their input. 

You are wondering, if by applying your makeup right now, you are doing pretty much the same. Ah yes, a woman in a field dominated mostly by psychotic men! Let me just put on my brightest red lipstick, a short that will barely cover anything important and, of course, a pair of heels that would set anyone in the hearing range to a Vietnam flashback even if they never been in Vietnam to begin with. Oh no…is that a risky joke? PTSD is a serious matter, you know. You shouldn’t joke about flying helicopters and war flashbacks – not when the training for the military psychologist courses were so hard, that even you, with your pretty much good mental health, would have to check herself double time for any trauma that the instructor would leave with you. 

Two weeks of torture for an opportunity to apply the blandest eyeshadow known to mankind, the pinkiest lipstick that barely holds any pigments – it’s not like you have money to splurge on something better even given the permission – and a mascara as clear as the mountains fresh air. God – oh no, blasphemy again, you really don’t want to get a good grade with all of these God-fearing old-fashioned men, aren’t you? – you really hated just how bland you look. You feel like one of these girls in your college – with tightest buns, cream sweaters and perfectly high-pitched laugh that would make them desirable for even blander college boys. Ah, how much you hated this place. 

The military base, however, is far worse. 

First, there are just too many people here. Second, everyone looks at you like you are some sort of ghost. Judging by your loosely hanging white doctor’s coat, they aren’t too far from the truth, but it still was weird. And finally, third – you are still not sure that your papers have been sent correctly, and this is even the right place. 

Instructor – a terrible, horrible, horrendous woman – told you that there would be plenty of study material for you here. That with these people, writing your master’s or even doctorate would be a “ ‘king breeze, rookie, if they ain’t decide to eat ya first”. The males around you – and some women, of course, because the newest military recruitment made sure to include as many people as possible, providing everyone with the opportunity to kill people as much as they would want – doesn't sound quite as great material for your research. 

And you are not going back to the fucking college. 

She said that some Captain brought you here specifically – and that higher-ups made him do it, as he was dismissing any previous attempts of sending psychological help for any of his units. So this is going to be a classic conflict between a person and the government – and you, a useless specialist – are going to be stuck in the middle, as long as you don't get shot. Perfect, terrific, just a great fate for someone who got out of college after 4 years of destroying her own hopes and dreams in a giant cell of a US education system. 

You haven’t even met the man before, and now you are sitting here, in the middle of nowhere on this gigantic base. Fighting with the fabric of your clothing – a nice buttoned shirt, nothing that could be considered a provocation from your side, and trying to breath as the reality of the situation is slowly thinking it. 

Breathe in 

You stuck here for only god knows how long – until you either will be dismissed, or decide to go away by your own choice. With people you know nothing about, and who probably doesn’t even want you here. 

Breathe out 

This is a perfect opportunity for you to write your Thesis – just pick one of these perfectly twisted specimens, and make his mental state even worse. Or better, if you would feel nice enough for such hard work. 

Breathe in 

Perhaps, it’s not so bad – only a few years of service, and you will be back in your education. The children and their easily molded minds are waiting for you to be their perfect school psychologist. With average salary of “fuck you and your savings too”.

Breathe out 

Health insurance is nice. Would be even better with some dental insurance, but this is reserved only to soldiers. And you are…well, not a soldier, that is for sure. 

Breathe in 

– Greetings. I suggest you are the mental health expert? 

…and, all of your neatly putted breathing schedule is fucked. Stupid army people and their stupid questions with such nice and deep voices that would make you think of deeply fucked up stuff any other day and…

– Oh, um, yes. A psychologist. And you are..? 

– Captain Price. You have to work in my unit, but I figured out that just sending my men to get you would be too much on your first day. 

– Thank you, I…I would rather greet them myself, that is. I kinda have to. 

He frowned. Oh, great. A perfect example of stoic  fatherly type – the guy who is probably thinks of his soldiers as his kids, definitely don’t have a wife – alive one, at least – and slowly cooking himself alive in a pot full of misery, machism and “I don’t buy any of this mentally ill stuff”.

His mustaches are great though. And a hat. 

– Do you really? 

– Well, I don’t want to earn my paycheck for just sitting around. This would be nice though. 

– In that case, higher-ups would put us both in trouble for this. 

– Do you have anything for me to start working with? Like a personal file or…

– I’ll show you around. 

– Oh. Okay. 

He seems harmless enough. As much as one man wearing a full uniform with too many weapons and a tiny hat could be – but you still feel well protected while walking beside him. With this still hanging loose coat of yours – you’ll have to search for something more adjusted for your tiniest fucking height – you can feel everyone’s gazes on you. Jesus, you will have to work with this many people? Let’s just hope that no one here believes in magic powers of therapy, and you would be pretty much free for any of your working hours. 

— But you do have personal files of your soldiers, right? 

— I thought your people like more of a personal approach? 

— Well, it would be really great, but I need some documents to write off my work and…

— Then you are going to write those documents, kid. I don’t want to scare you, but a young miss like you really wouldn’t want to see real portfolios of my men. 

— Sir, with all honor, I am not a…

– We’re here. 

Oh. Saving you the humiliation of being able to recognise patronizing tones and understanding, that you are, in fact, a kid, a young miss, and generally a useless fucking person. Psychologists in a place, where most of the people probably believe, that getting drunk will save them from nightmares? What a joke. 

At least the office is nice. 

Tidy place, neatly furnished room with a table, a sofa – something right out of Freud’s fantasies. A small empty closet for all three of your psychology books. You can already picture whimsical and fun soldiers laying here, trying so bad not to laugh in your face as you were trying to uncover all of their mental trauma without being strangled to death. 

– Thank you, sir…captain? It’s nice. 

– Not much, but everything that we were able to put when they said that we need a mental expert here. 

– I will try my best not to disappoint you, I promise. 

– You can unpack here, someone will show you the bed later. Still don’t know whether to put you with soldiers or medics. 

– Um…I would really prefer a… A nice and roomy bedroom, preferably with no one to snore alongside you, and definitely not with soldiers who can get the wrong ideas about a nice and sweet lady psychologist sleeping right next to them on their base. Of course, you can’t say that. 

–...I need to gather as much material about them as possible, so it would be really neat to sleep closer to the soldiers. 

You are the architect of your own demise. You and your stupid Thesis that you are not even sure, whether you could write it right now or not.

– Oh. 

He scratched his chin in a manner that you have seen too many times. Do all older males with bears share the same mannerism? 

Then he smiled – a ghostly feature on his face, that almost made him look like he actually wanted you here, and not just putting up with higher-ups bullshit because every special task force needs its psychologist just so the soldiers won’t kill each other on one sunny day. 

– Okay. I’ll think about something, doc. 

– I am not…not a doctor, sir. Not yet, at least. 

– Well, it’s either a doc or a kid. What do ya prefer? 

– Doc would be better. Perhaps, I will earn my doctorate after the service. 

– That’s the spirit, kid. 

– But sir- 

Shit. He is gone already. 

You were never a fan of dad jokes. Or dad types. Or anyone, who is questioning what the fuck you are doing here, even though you spend 4 years fighting for this position in the college. Who cares, if you can’t shoot guns? Words are just as deadly! 

Well, judging by the size of the rifle on the Captain's body, maybe, your words would definitely be less threatening than his guns. But this doesn’t change the whole picture! 

Oh, well. You might as well try to get yourself as comfortable as possible – considering all of the possibilities, they might simply forget that you exist, and you would have to sleep on this tiny couch at least for today. What a great opportunity and definitely something that you spent four years waiting in awe of. Perfect, beautiful, something right from her dreams. 

“You can still get out of here, you know. Just go out of this door and we will never ever speak about joining the military ever again. Trust me, babe, I am your conscience.” 

Oh no. You hated talking with your conscience – mostly because it was an annoying prick, and also because, as studies were showing in many of the presentations you would make for your classes, this is a first sign of not just a person being self-aware, but also the step to being proclaimed a mad man. Even if you are, in fact, a very self-aware and mentally healthy person. Mostly. You liked to think of yourself as one, at least. 

“You don’t want to be here. And you shouldn’t – there is plenty of work outside.” 

Yeah, like a sex job. Or secretary. Or a waiter – what a beautiful line of work for someone already in too much debt to her government. And judging by the already dismissive faces of your parents, going home as a stay-at-home daughter is also not going to be an option. So, go far and beyond. 

You just need to find a few people who would be interested in psychotherapy – how hard is that?

[jellyfshing]

C3彡 final girl id pack !!

☆~{ for anon }~☆

C3彡 names :

fleur , slasher , amnesty , dove , colt , lamb , eros , nyx , lillith , seraph , bow , julie , scythe , beal , serene , athena , wendy , abyss , adelaide , allure , alluria , elisabeta , kateline , mors , crypt , cross , verity , cybre , pyper , evelien , talia , cynthia

C3彡 pronouns :

final finals , survive survives , slash slashers , horror horrors , dark darks , live lives , scythe scythes , weapon weapons , knife knifes , mallet mallets , med medicals , lash lashes , kill kills , murder murders , night nights , bone bones , corpse corpse , chain chains , blood bloods , bullet bullets , wound wounds , weep weeps , cry cries , gauze gauzes , gun guns , blade blades , steel steels

C3彡 titles :

[prn] who survived , the surviver , the final girl , the living girl , the one who lived , [prn] who ( hid / ran / fought back ) , [prn] whos grave lays empty , the weapon wielder , the resourceful

C3彡 genders :

finalgirldecorated , finalthing , finalrotgirl

[sinner-as-saint]

Like A Villain

Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Reader AU

Requested. 

Run-through: The team is away, leaving you alone at the tower. And that’s when the enemy attacks. Assassins of HYDRA came to take you out, thinking you’re nothing but a helpless, new addition to the team. But little do they know that you too can fight like a villain. When the team comes back home to the bloody mess you left behind after dealing with the enemies, a certain blue-eyed, metal-armed super soldier is highly impressed; and suddenly he wants all the fierce aggression that you displayed directed right at him… 

Themes: smut, avenger!reader, 

a/n: for the lovely @breathtaking-cynthia​ 

“Play the footage,” Tony called out to the AI, “I wanna see this.” He said, and gave you a smile and a wink to show just how proud of you he was. 

You smirked, hopping up on the nearest table and watched how the screen started replaying the security camera footage from just a little over an hour ago. The team wasn’t here when HYDRA showed up at the tower. So you had to defend yourself and the tower all by yourself, and you did a pretty good job - as the team was about to witness. 

They all stood around the screen, still in their combat suits as they watched. 

The footage: 

You were sitting on a stool at the kitchen island, on your floor, putting your nail polish on when the AI suddenly announced that someone was in the tower and that it wasn’t any member of the team. 

You smirked, “Hydra?” You asked. 

“Yes.” The AI replied. 

“Let them come. Let the bastards think they’re sneaking up on me.” 

“Noted.” 

A few minutes of complete silence later, while you were just finishing up your nail polish, footsteps were heard behind you. You turned to face them with a deadly, villainous smile; occasionally blowing on your fresh manicure. 

“Well, hello there.” You taunted the men who faced you while cracking their knuckles - showing off. 

“Did the team leave you home alone? All helpless?” One of them asked, and you’d recognize that traitor’s voice anywhere. Rumlow. “Give up, you don’t wanna mess up your pretty nails now, do you, Princess?” 

You leaned back against the kitchen island, looking all bored and unbothered. “You think I’m helpless because I just got my nails done?” You chuckled, “I could fight you and your pathetic men and still not mess up my pretty nails.” 

He snarled, and his men all took a step forward in unison. You shook your head at them. Pathetic indeed. You smirked as you hopped off the stool, “Alright boys, let’s get this over with.” 

They came at you one by one. Thank fuck it was just hand to hand combat because there was no way you’d survive bullets. But combat was your forté - though a challenge now because you couldn’t possibly mess your nails up. Of course, it was a silly promise that you made earlier but you liked to show off. Just a little. 

You limited using your hands; just the elbows. Which happened to be to your advantage because elbow strikes hurt so much more than punches. So you fought, dancing your way around the men; kick, duck, elbow strike and repeat. Over and over again. 

One of them tried to grab you but you escaped just in time, however he tore a piece of your clothes. You kicked that one extra hard in the face, breaking his nose and knocking him out cold immediately, yelling, “That was my favourite sundress!” 

Rumlow fled at some point, realising who and what he was up against, leaving his men behind for you to absolutely obliterate and leave into a pile of bloody mess and broken bones. 

You pinned down the last of them with your thighs, straddling him to the floor as you repeatedly brought down your elbow to his face - hard enough to knock him out, but just enough to keep him alive - your agents could use him for questioning later, you thought. 

With the last one down, you panted as you stood up and looked around at the men lying on the floor, bleeding even more than you did. You wiped the cut on your lip with the back of your hand before lifting your hands up to your face, checking your fresh manicure and just as promised, your nails remained intact. Perfect as always. 

You even made a show of blowing on your nails before looking up to where you knew the security cams were recording. You blew a kiss to the cams and winked before asking the AI to call for backup and agents to clean up and take care of the aftermath of what just happened while you went away to clean up after yourself. 

Once the AI stopped the footage, the entire team turned to look at you with proud smiles and nods. 

“That’s my girl!” Nat said, raising her fist to bump against yours. 

You gave her a bright smile before turning to Bucky, who stood there so still. You and Bucky were known to always argue about which one of you has better combat skills. So you asked, “What do you say, soldier? Am I finally better than you?” You smirked, watching him as he frowned ever so slightly at you. 

He was indeed proud but he still scoffed, “Your strikes could be a little cleaner.” He mumbled before walking away, the entire team either shaking their heads or chuckling after him before they walked up to you to tell you how proud they were.  

– 

Bucky didn’t stop at all until he reached his floor, where he could finally breathe right. Because fuck that was hot. Watching you fight and take down those men, all the perfect strikes and powerful kicks… you looked like a god, even in your little cocktease of a sundress. 

“Fuck…” Bucky swore under his breath, looking down to the massive erection in his pants. Yup, you did that. That footage was gonna be the death of him. Not to mention the way you’d pin down that one guy with your thighs? Bucky had never been more jealous of a man before seeing that. He wanted to be straddled by you; with you either on top of his cock or his face he didn’t mind which one. 

That alone would keep him up at night. The sight of another man writhing beneath you as you went absolutely feral while defending yourself and your home. Fuck… he couldn’t take it. He was so turned on, it hurt. 

He sighed as he walked into the shower, already knowing what his night would consist of tonight: replaying that footage of you pinning down that guy with your thighs, and his cock in his hand. 

— 

When Bucky woke up the next morning, needless to say with a boner, the last thing he expected to see was you standing at the end of his bed. Arms crossed over your chest, with a smirk on your face. Wearing one of those damn sundresses you always wore whenever you weren’t dressed in your combat suits; the kind that made him want to tear them off of your body and empty himself inside your body. 

He held back a groan as he grabbed a nearby pillow and tried to place it over his erection as subtly as one can but you caught it. 

“There’s no need to do all that. I could see your boner through the blanket.” You said with a straight face, trying to hide the excitement. 

He groaned out loud, “What do you want? Go annoy someone else.” He mumbled, getting out of bed in nothing but his boxers, strutting lazily all the way to his bathroom. 

Your voice, more like the accusation in it, made his stop halfway. “I heard you, watching the footage last night. I think you tend to forget that my floor is right above yours, and I have excellent hearing.” You smirked as he turned to face you with a raised eyebrow. 

“And?” He asked, pretending like he didn’t care. 

“And,” You took a step forward, “Why were you replaying the ending? Over and over again?” You asked, giving him that seductive, lethal faint smile that most men fell for. 

Bucky shrugged, “None of your business. Now get out of my room.” He said, turning around to walk away, hiding his growing erection. 

You chuckled, “You look like you got caught. Otherwise why are you running away from me?” 

“I’m not running, I’m going to shower and brush, now get out of my room and go annoy someone else. I’m sure Steve would be free right now.” He said as he entered the bathroom and shut the door behind him. 

You called, “I’ll be right here, waiting for you to come out!” 

He replied back, “Be my guest!” And then you heard the shower turning on. 

You smirked and jumped back into his bed, not caring that he would kick you out the moment he stepped out of the shower. You smiled to yourself as you buried further under his comfy covers, stretching like a kitten on his warm bed as you breathed in his scent. He always smelt so good. 

Fifteen minutes later, Bucky still hadn’t walked out of that bathroom. 

“Are you hiding from me in there? Like a coward?” You called out, chuckling to yourself, knowing that that would make him walk out immediately. And it did. 

Two seconds later, Bucky walked out and glared at you as you lounged on his bed. His long hair was still damp, so was his chest. He was now dressed in dark grey sweats which matched his shiny metal arm. He looked good enough to eat. 

But first, you’d get that answer out of him. 

“Friday?” You called out, summoning the AI. “How many times exactly did Bucky watch that footage of me fighting the bad guys last night?” 

Less than a few seconds later came the reply, “Seven times.” 

You smirked at Bucky, and you said to the AI, “Thank you.” Bucky visibly tensed up as you eyed him up and down. “Seven times, huh?” You teased. “I heard you, you know?” 

He sighed as he approached the bed, looking unbothered, “Get out.” 

You shook your head, smirking at him. Bucky barely had time to process what happened because by the time he did, you’d already pulled him down onto the bed and straddled his waist, pinning him down on the soft blankets. 

“I saw the way you clenched your fists while watching the footage with the rest of the team last night,” You whispered, trailing your fingers up and down his arms before grabbing both his hands, flesh and metal, and bringing them up to rest on either side of your waist. 

Bucky instinctively grabbed you and kept you in place above him. “That didn’t mean anything.” He said, his voice much deeper than earlier. 

“Oh?” You taunted, “My guess is that you were either impressed by my amazing skills, or…” You trailed off, grinding on him, feeling his bulge throbbing beneath you, you held back a gasp as you said, “Or you were turned on when you watched me straddle the bad guy.” 

Despite being a super soldier, he couldn’t hide the blush on his cheeks at the sound of that. You chuckled, grounding your hips against his even more. Bucky couldn’t hold back the grunt which escaped his lips this time, “Fuck… are you not wearing panties?” He asked, as if accusing you of something. 

“No,” You replied, sounding so casual and nonchalant as you lifted up the hem of your dress to show him, “See?” 

Bucky groaned at the sight of his clothed, erected cock so perfectly nestled against your bare, warm, wet flesh. You were leaving behind a patch of wetness on the front of his sweatpants as you kept grinding against him, gasping so quietly in pleasure that it made him lose his mind. He looked up at you, stared into your eyes with his lips parted in hunger. 

“What do you want, huh?” He asked, tightening his grip on your waist, which was the only way to keep his hands occupied and keeping them from grabbing you and fucking you hard and fast. 

“For you to answer my question, of course.” You said, teasing him even more. “Were you impressed, or turned on? Maybe both?” You teased. “Maybe you wanted to be the one in between my thighs instead. Hmm? What was it?” 

Oh he had enough. He grabbed you by the throat, flipping the two of you around. He pinned you down on his bed, keeping you in place by your throat as he leaned in to whisper, “Stop fucking teasing me. You came here to fuck, right? So either you let me fuck you nice and hard, or you walk away right now. Which one will it be?” 

Your body melted under his touch. And he was so, so tempting to give in to. You almost begged him for it. But you still teased him because watching a man of his magnitude losing his mind was a different kind of adrenaline rush. 

“You tell me,” You sassed, “You’re the one who most probably came too many times while you watched me straddle another man last night, wishing it was you instead,” You smirked, “Like a perverted little boy.” You added, solely to mess with him. 

One moment you were pinned down under him. And with the next few seconds, he’d torn your dress off of you, throwing the destroyed scraps of fabric somewhere behind him before he flipped you two back around, grabbed your hips and brought your dripping cunt up to his face. 

Bucky dove right in, licking and tasting you like an animal in heat. He looked no less than a hungry beast either; his long hair all messy and wild, the heated look in his eyes, the way his beard made your skin burn. 

You whined and moaned above him, unable to form coherent words or thoughts as he slid his tongue in and out of you, and around your throbbing clit. “Oh… Bucky!” You exclaimed when he playfully bit down on your clit. 

“Yeah?” He whispered, lips brushing against your slippery, wet folds, “This feels good, huh?” 

You whined, nodding and pulling handfuls of his hair as he ate you out. 

“Ride my face, come on,” He demanded, gripping you by the hips and pressing you further down onto his face, smothering himself in between your thighs. 

You giggled, his beard felt funny in between your legs as you rode his tongue just like how he asked. Bucky moaned shamelessly from beneath you, barely pulling away for air as he went wild, eating you out like he so desperately wanted. 

“Is this what you wanted? Ever since you saw that footage?” You taunted, knowing he wouldn’t take the time to reply because he was having too much fun tasting you. “You couldn’t wait to be crushed between these t-,” 

He cut you off by growling, throwing you down on the bed and climbing on top of you immediately before you could even process it. Next thing you knew, his lips were on yours and you tasted yourself on his tongue when he shoved it in your mouth. 

You whined beneath him, lifting your hips up in the hopes of grinding against his throbbing erection but he wouldn’t let you. You scratched down his muscular back, making him groan against your mouth. 

His hissed in pain, “Alright, alright, you brat.” He growled, “Spread your legs for me.” And you did as he asked so quickly that he couldn’t help but chuckle. 

You whined again, “Hurry up! We can play later, not now please…” You murmured, looking up at him with puppy dog eyes. They didn’t work on him. Instead he just trailed his metal fingers up and down your wet slit, casually and lazily sliding a finger or two; in and out as he wanted, making your back arch off the bed. “Damn you, Bucky!” You cried out. 

He smirked, then cupped you down there and said, “No one else is allowed in between these thighs from now on, you hear me?” 

You nodded quickly. 

He spoke again, “You come to me when you need something from now on. You want someone to eat you out until you can’t fucking think straight? You come to me. You need to be fucked hard? You come to me. You need a quick fuck at anytime during the day, or night? You come to me. Understood?” 

You nodded again, whining. “Oh my fucking God, Bucky! Hurry up or I swear I will go find out if Steve is indeed free at the m-,” 

“Shut up!” He spoke through gritted teeth as he pulled his sweats down just enough to free his cock, and slid it inside of your wet hole with ease. 

You gasped, struggling to breathe as he filled you up. Bucky groaned at how warm and wet, and tight you were. You moaned as he removed himself entirely and pushed himself back into you, and watched in awe how you struggled to adjust to his size. 

You were a moaning mess under him in no time. He kissed your open mouth while he rammed into you over and over again. “Bucky… please,” You whimpered. 

“Hungry for my cock, now aren’t you?” he mumbled as he sped up into you. He pulled away from your face to look down at you, his metal hand coming up to wrap itself around your throat. “This is what you wanted? Hmm? This cock right here is what you wanted?” He taunted as he stretched you out completely, thrusting deeper into you. 

“Yes…” You cried out, “Please, please, please… more!” 

Bucky laughed, pounding harder into you. “You’ve been teasing me for a long time, you know that? Always taunting me, always showing off how much better than me you are…” He alternated between slowing down and speeding up as he fucked you. 

Your mind was a foggy mess, struggling to register and process his words. 

“Always walking around half naked in the mornings, testing me…” He growled, “Always showing off these lovely thighs…” He pulled out, leaving you gasping at the loss of contact, he reached down solely to bite down hard on your soft thigh before sliding back into you, making you moan and lose your mind. “That’s right baby, moan for me.” He whispered against your open mouth before shoving his tongue in there, swallowing your pathetic moans. 

“I need to cum, Bucky please,” you cried, with tears in your eyes. 

He surprised you when he said, “No, not so easily,” He pulled out of you, laid down on his back before pulling you on top of him again; sliding his cock back into you from under you he said, “You don’t get to come so easily while I do all the work.” He smirked, “Now come on, work for it.” 

You growled, wrapping both your hands around his throat while he laughed. Fuck, if you weren’t this needy maybe you’d actually knock him out cold too. But fuck he felt so good inside you, you couldn’t get enough. 

“You don’t get to boss me around like this, you hear me? I’ll obey just this once, understood?” You stared down into his pretty blue eyes, keeping your hands around his throat, applying just the slightest bit of pressure. “Just this once.” You repeated. 

He gave you a cocky grin despite you choking him. “Oh please, you’ll be back time and time again begging for this cock.” 

You almost argued, but then realised that it might be true. So instead, you just placed your hands on his muscular chest to hold yourself up as you rode him. His hands gripped your hips, guiding you up and down his cock until you both found a pleasurable pace. 

“Fuck…” You moaned, “You feel so fucking good!” 

His thick, throbbing cock stretched you open as you took him as best you could, moaning and whimpering desperately as he groaned and gasped under you. “That’s it, ride me. Ride my cock.” His grip on your hips tightened as he brought you down on his cock with force each time and thrusting upwards to fuck you deeper. “Come for me, baby.” He threw his head back, growling. “Come for me!” 

Your hands tightened around his throat as you leaned in to press your lips against his, claiming his open mouth and muffling his animalistic growls as you came undone around him again. “Come with me…” You whispered, desperate to feel him inside you. 

And he did. Groaning, and gasping as your hands tightened around his throat one last time before you let go. 

You both caught your breaths, coming down from that high together. You got off of him and laid down on his bed, trying to calm your racing heart. 

“Wow.” You both said in unison, before looking at each other and chuckling. 

“That was…” Bucky trailed off. 

“Yeah.” You answered, breathlessly. 

He turned to face you with mischief in his eyes, reached out and trailed a finger lazily down your damp cheek, “You wanna go again?” 

To which you replied, enthusiastically, “Fuck yeah, come here!”

[sinnohelitefourlore]

For those of you thank love the sinnoh elite four like I do, I've been binging these fics that showcase their relationships with each other, and it's magnificent. Have a go at reading them :) fics by @inkthecat

[eliaswoodt]

The Name List

Organized from A-Z (yes I will add more names whenever I find more I like, probably in reblogs)

I currently have 1035 names (and that’s only including the first names. I have a list of last names, too.)

Angel, Atticus, Atlas, Apollo, Ares, Athena, Achilles, Artemis, Adonis, Avery, Aubrey, Aubry, Aceline, Ashlynn, Aislinn, Anjanette, Arthur, Archer, Addison, Arrietty, Amity, Autumn, Alastor, Alastair, Alasdair, Alistair, Alison, Arren, Arin, Astra, Aoife, Adalyn, Adeleine, Astoria, Agnes, Angus, Abigail, Ann, Anne, Ambrose, Adeline, Avarsel, Agatha, Ari, Azariah, Aniyah, Armani, Anastasia, Annabelle, Adah, Adelaide, Avis, Amelia, August, Axel, Adelina, Amir, Amin, Ayala, Arne, Averett, Adil, Astro, Ava, Anti, Ailun, Akemi, Asahi, Akari, Asako, Atsuko, Azumi, Aka, Aren, Akko

Blossom, Bambi, Babs, Bo, Bella, Blair, Bea, Bonnabel, Badeea, Betty, Bailey, Boris, Bee, Bugs, Blaise, Benjamin, Bog, Buford, Beatrice, Bryce, Bryan, Bazil, Brutus, Bellamy, Brigitte, Bailee, Bailey, Bao, Belladona, Belladonna, Bell, Bill, Bishop, Bones, Boneothy, Benno, Behemoth, Barry, Bellynn, Bowie, Bunki

Clover, Canyon, Cleo, Cameron, Celestial, Celestino, Ciro, Camilo, Cain, Charlotte, Clara, Corey, Cin, Charlie, Cassidy, Chiara, Callista, Cisco, Cynthia, Casper Clinton, Celestina, Clement, Christopher, Cornelius, Clifford, Claudius, Carey, Carrie, Coatl, Cyrus, Cyril, Cecil, Caisus, Castiel, Calla, Cosmos, Cherry, Cheryl, Crowley, Crow, Cassius, Cliodna, Clíodhna, Cliona, Conan, Cordelia, Calypso, Cas, Cillian, Chiyo, Chiaki, Chihiro, Calcifer

Danny, Darlene, Dex, Dot, Diana, Daphne, Demeter, Daedalus, Daeddel, Darphel, Dawn, Derrick, Derek, Dravan, Dravid, Drae, Dallas, Dimas, Dominic, Damien, Drew, Delilah, Dakota, Darian, Darius, Darwin, Devan, Darla, Dagmar, Daelyn, Dale, Dae, Dacey, Desmond, Dabria, Daniel, Daniela, Danialla, David, Davis, Donnel, Dennis, Demitrius, Delaney, Daiki, Daiyu

Everest, Emery, Ember, Elliott, Elliot, Earlana, Eliseo, Ezequiel, Emie, Evan, Eloise, Eric, Emmet, Elizabeth, Eugene, Ethan, Eret, Ester, Elias, Eos, Ellis, Edwin, Ebony, Elijah, Eliza, Enzo, Elissa, Edward, Eddalyn, Esther, Eda, Edalyn, Edalynn, Edison, Eddison, Estervan, Emma, Eden, Erfan, Eun-hae, Erytheia, Egan, Errol, Eiichi, Eiji, Eriko, Etsu, Etsuko, Eiichiro, Ezume

Flint, Finn, Fae, Fred, Fritz, Fang, Frankie, Frank, Fermin, Freddie, Freddy, Finley, Freya, Fai, Felix, Freda, Faolan, Frey, Feylynn, Faelynn, Failynn, Felipa, Febby, Febbie, Febie, Feby, Flynn, Fuji, Feiyu, Fukiko, Fumitaka, Fumito, Fuyuko

Griffin, Garnet, Gothi, Gertrude, Gabe, Grant, Giovanni, George, Gage, Gregory, Gabriel, Gabrielle, Guy, Gilbert, Guadalupe, Gerry, Grey, Gray, Gia, Grace, Gracian, Gracis, Gracie, Gretel, Gideon, Griffilow, Ghost, Ghazaleh, Gavin, Gryphon, Griffith, Goliath, Grayson, Greyson

Harmony, Hannah, Harlei, Harlie, Haritha, Haris, Harry, Harlan, Harvey, Hadrian, Harley, Hari, Harlow, Howl, Hank, Harper, Herbert, Humphrey, Hestia, Helios, Hephaestus, Hollis, Hunter, Hero, Henry, Helda, Hajar, Hasta, Hadis, Howard, Howie, Hannan, Haoyu, Hisako, Hachi, Hiroto, Hoshiko, Honoka, Hiroshi, Hiro, Haitao, Hamako, Haruhi, Harue, Hayate, Hide, Hideyo, Hidetaka, Hisaye, Hisayo, Heiji, Higari

Ivy, Ivey, Ivo, Ida, Iris, Ilyssa, Illy, Irene, Iren, Isaiah, Ira, Idelle, Ivan, Illaoi, Isabel, Isabell, Isabelle, Isobell, Isabella, Ismelda, Io, Ismael, Isolt, Icarus, izuru, Isamu, Itona, Ichiro, Ichiko, Ichigo, Isoko, Ishiko, Isaye, Inari, Ikuko, Itsuki, Itsuko, Inosuke

Juniper, Jupiter, Jinx, Jamie, Javier, Josiah, Joan, Jake, Julia, Jamil, Jamila, Jesse, Jessie, Jess, Jasper, Janus, Jordan, Joshua, Julian, Juilliard, Julius, Juliana, Jeremiah, Jace, June, Junebug, Jazzy, Jackson, Jackie, Jackalynn, Jodie, Johnnie, Jan, Jaime, Jason, Jorge, Justin, Justice, John, Jay, Janelle, James, Jennifer, Jillion, Jill, Jana, Jonah, Jaycee, Jaxen, Junpei, Jona, Jun, Jin

Kenneth, Kat, Kas, Kris, Keith, Kingston, Kaeton, Kingsley, Kent, Katherine, Kyle, Knox, Kristen, Kristin, Kristeen, Kylie, Kaylee, Kamila, Kehlani, Kendall, Kerry, Kry, Kenny, Kath, Kathleen, Krow, Kix, Kedrick, Kennon, Klaus, Killian, Korallia, Krank, Kaz, Kaede, Kirara, Katsuhiko, Keisuke, Kanako, Kenji, Kaemon, Kamin, Katsu, Kaki, Kazane, Kazuyuki, Kazushige, Kenta, Kei, Kimi, Kin, Kohako, Koichi, Kota, Koji, Koharu, Kosuke, Kuma, Kumi, Kuniko, Kuniyuki, Kideko, Kazuko

Lullaby, Lotte, Lapin, Lorelei, Loralai, Lorelai, Luna, Lily, Lucy, Lee, Liana, Lola, Lethe, Lance, Laurence, Luther, Luca, Lennon, Logan, Lennox, Ilias, Liu, Lui, Luis, Lefu, Liam, Lyall, Lowell, Luella, Leona, Leonie, Leon, Lev, Lincoln, Lin, Link, Laverna, Lazarus, Lewis, Louis, Louise, Levi, Leslie, Lesley, Leilana

Marley, Marlai, Mei, May, Mae, Marceline, Marshall, Marshalee, Millie, Mallorie, Marcela, Melanie, Maddison, Mary, Mirabel, Marsh, Murphy, Montgomery, Mildred, Memphis, Molly, Maverick, Maurice, Muiris, Morgen, Max, Moses, Marion, Merrill, Monroe, Melanthios, Maxwell, Matias, Melissa, Maëlle, Marlene, Meredith, Maybelle, Margaret, Maeve, Moss, Mara, Maria, Myrtle, Mona, Mark, Markus, Michael, Micheal, Michelle, Mahsa, Minoo, Mehdi, Mohammad, Matin, Morpheus, Marlowe, Monica, Marilia, Magnus, Malachi, Malachy, Maggie, Makoto, Megumi, Mio, Maemo, Maemi, Masa, Masaaki, Masashi, Michi, Midori, Michinori, Momo, Motoko

Natasha, Noelle, Noni, Neville, Nixon, Neda, Natalio, Ned, Nausicaä, Noxis, Nova, Nathen, Newt, Noah, Nash, Nox, Nathara, Nathaira, Nathair, Nyoka, Nagisa, Nathan, Nate, Nik, Nick, Naohiro, Naoko, Nara, Natsu, Naoya, Nishi, Nobuko, Nori

Olindo, Ollie, Oliver, Ophelia, Odysseus, Orion, Osono, Oxen, Onyx, Otto, Ottoline, Otitile, Ottavia, Octavio, Olivia-Marie, Oakley, Omar, Olivia, Oscar, Octavian, Octavia, Oz, Octavius, Otta, Oisin, Orson, Orlos, Osiris, Owen, Odalis, Odell, Ozuru

Penelope, Patton, Paddy, Percy, Paulie, Page, Pazu, Phoebe, Phebe, Prairie, Porter, Parlay, Pally, Piper, Parker, Payton, Phil, Paul, Philip, Pyre, Piers, Phylis, Patricia, Payne, Payneton, Pip

Quinn, Quincy, Quil, Quinley, Quinstin, Quinlan, Quillen, Quavon, Quaylon, Quensley, Qing, Qrow, Quilla, Quianna, Quita, Qiao, Quinella, Queenie, Qaylah, Qailah, Qitarah, Quenby, Qadira, Qudsiyah, Quan, Qian, Quinby, Quella

Roseline, Raul, Rahul, Rafael, Roque, Rogelio, Remmy, Rei, Rey, Ray, Robin, Ro, Reika, Rowen, Rowan, Rose, Rosie, Ralsei, Riley, Remus, Rosalyn, Rosalin, Rosaline, Renata, Ron, Rat, Ratt, Reef, Roxy, River, Reed, Rufus, Robbie, Renee, Rivia, Ross, Rex, Ruth, Rosemary, Rosabe, Rosabee, Rosabell, Rosabelle, Rosabel, Rai, Rain, Rosella, Rosalie, Rhody, Robert, Raelinn, Rebane, Ren, Rollin, Ralph, Roxanne, Rox, Roderick, Reginald, Reggie, Rio, Ryu, Ryo, Ryoji, Rinmaru

Sage, Sam, Syd, Selkie, Storig, Sal, Sirius, Summer, Susie, Scott, Sunni, Sosuke, Sophie, Satsuki, Sheeta, San, Sulley, Sully, Savannah, Sappho, Selene, Shaw, Sean, Seán, Shaun, Sawyer, Sabrina, Sebastian, Shane, Stan, Socks, Snom, Stolas, Spencer, Sammie, Stevie, Samus, Sarff, Sullivan, Seth, Susiebell, Susiebelle, Sadreddin, Shellaine, Sverre, Saoirse, Sylvania, Sanae, Silas, Sumi, Shiori, Shinzu, Sile

Toby, Tobias, Teddy, Ted, Tomas, Thomas, Tomothy, Tyche, Taiga, Tundra, Tracy, Timothy, Troy, Tatum, Tommie, Tommy, Theia, Tae, Trix, Trixy, Thanathos, Tod, Todd, Toddy, Tora, Torie, Theodore, Theo, Theophania, Talos, Thanatos, Teddy, Tomohito, Tazu, Tanjirou, Touya

Ulysses, Urijah, Uriyah, Urina, Ukiah, Ulnar, Ursula, Ulric

Virgil, Vanessa, Vito, Venacio, Vylad, Veronica, Valentina, Violet, Velma, Venus, Verna, Veld, Victoria, Victorie, Vinyl, Vincent, Vasuki, Vex, Valor, Valentine, Valerie, Valeria, Valerius, Vitoria, Vic, Victor, Vik, Vikktor, Viktor, Vick, Vicky, Vicke, Vickie, Vidya

Wynn, Willow, Warren, Wilbur, Wylie, Will, Walle, Whisp, Wade, Wendell, Wendy, Willard, Wes, Wallace, Wilber, Wyatt, Wybie, Wynnie, Wennie, Winnie, Wynnston, Wynston, Wynsten, Wiles

Xenophon, Xuan, Xio, Xori, Xanthos, Xander, Xavier

Yen, Yukio, Yae, Yoko, Yume, Yaeko, Yui, Yuzuki

Zane, Zana, Zion, Zachary, Zach, Zachariah, Zander, Ziana, Zoe, Zula, Zenix, Zenith, Zaharia, Zaria, Zack, Zakaeia, Zara, Zakaria, Zev, Zaira, Zanata

[revengemode]

Zendaya, who was stuck in traffic and a bit tardy to last season’s show, started getting dressed at 9:30 in the morning to make sure she was on time for the 2:30 show. “That’s because I don’t want to be rushed,” she said, adding that her hotel was a lot closer to the venue this time

She was accompanied by her longtime friend and creative director Law Roach. “Law and I have some ideas about what we want to wear. We made eye contact quite a bit. We’re like ‘Oh, that one,’” she said of their unspoken signals. But she remained mum on which ones were her faves.

“I’m worried that if I tell people what I liked they’ll know what I’m going to be wearing on the red carpet,” she said, hoping to keep an element of sartorial surprise.

The actress and singer loved the classic French pop that was played. “I didn’t have my phone but I wanted to Shazam it,” she said. “But I’ll ask them to send me a playlist.”

The show was held inside the bones of the brand’s soon-to-be flagship, still a concrete husk. Vuitton covered the interior of the building in orange plastic. The choice gave an eerie, ambient light to the collection — and a heat level that was off the charts.

“I don’t even know how they were able to do this, but it’s incredible. I love the texture; I hope nobody trips and falls or anything. All the body heat is making it quite warm in here,” she added, as guests proved that once again a hand fan is the must have accessory of the season.

But she gamely walked and did pro turns for the cameras in her slinky cream dress.