#piercing south London

[tattooandpiercingstudio]

Next Chapter Tattoo and Piercing Studio - Morden, London was created for people looking for a friendly and professional Tattoo Studio.

[whollyjoly]

okay so i saw this on my dash and although i wasnt tagged i just!! really wanted to do the thing!!

shuffle your on repeat playlist and list the first 10 songs:

Julia by Mt. Joy

Wasteland, Baby! by Hozier

Pink Pony Club by Chappell Roan

Moody Orange by Rainbow Kitten Surprise

Good Luck, Babe! by Chappell Roan

Wonderful Nothing by Glass Animals

Hide by Rainbow Kitten Surprise

South London Forever by Florence + The Machine

Lips by The xx

Painkillers by Rainbow Kitten Surprise

tagging some people cause fuck yeah!! music is great!!

@thetangycheesemanwithaplan @kyellin @theredrenard @alost-traveler @the-cinnamontography-is-amazing @gourdita @1waveshortofashipwreck

and anyone else who sees this and is inspired like i was!!

happy listening loves 🥰

[going-to-ikea-for-the-fries]

It's a Match! || poly!141 x Reader

[Chapter 22] || [Chapter 23]

Rating: E Pairing: Ghost x Price || Price x Reader || 141 x gn!Reader Words: 500~ cw: angst, selfish john price, thinking of someone else while fucking (mental cheating? idk) Summary: While overcoming recent heartbreak, you decide to join Tinder in search of a rebound. Your friends advise to just Swipe Right indiscriminately... What happens when 4 soldiers from the same squad match with you? a/n: this is angsty. this is NOT gonna please some of you. john is a selfish man.

Chapter 22.5: Cardiff, London, Cairo, Cabo, Tel Aviv.

John doesn’t know how it happened.

One moment he’s leaving, the next he’s on top of you on the bed.

You’re whining needily as he slowly rolls his hips against yours like it’s the first time.

You’re lying on your back, your legs are spread on either side of him, your ass propped up on his thighs as he kneels on the mattress.

“You’re so beautiful on your back like this, fuckin’ ‘ell…” John murmurs as he pulls you up to him, one hand snug around the small of your back, the other around your shoulders.

Your chest presses tight against him while your feet struggle to find a perch on the slippery edge of the mattress, your arms wrapped tight around his shoulder, hoping your weight doesn’t make him lose balance.

His lower arm rocks you back and forth on his cock, drawing more mewls of pleasure from your lips before he captures your mouth in his, your tongues blurring together.

For a moment he’s not in Hereford, in your flat.

For a moment, there’s a piercing poking his tongue, and another set of them rubbing against his lower belly, threatening to catch on his happy trail of hair.

For a moment he’s in Simon’s apartment in Cardiff.

For a moment he’s on a rainy rooftop in London, doing a stakeout on an armed militia leader.

For a moment he’s in Cairo, in a sandy warehouse, dead bodies around them, after stopping an arms deal.

For a moment he’s in Cabo, South Africa, sneaking back into a sex trafficking cell safehouse after it had been emptied, under the guise of ‘checking it over one last time’.

For a moment he’s in Tel Aviv, having prevented a missile launch that almost cost both their lives.

Cardiff, London, Cairo, Cabo, or Tel Aviv…

He’s always fucked Simon like this. His pants just barely undone, Simon perched up on his lap, rocking back and forth on his cock, his moans being quieted by a tongue down his throat.

The only difference is that they’re usually huddled together in a corner of a room, so that no one spots it…

And not in the middle of a bed, in a comfortable, cosy, homey flat, where the only thing keeping you from serving as a counterbalance and landing you both on the mattress again is John’s sheer strength.

Tossing you down onto the mattress again, he breaks the kiss and rubs his open mouth across your cheek, down your jawline, and onto your neck. “So good f’r me.” He whispers in your ear.

You’re not Simon…

But you definitely make Simon happy.

He saw it in his eyes.

You make Simon happy in a way John never quite could.

And he makes you happy too…

John knows he’s not exactly a selfless man. He’s quite selfish, in fact.

But you’ve just extended him an opportunity to join you in making Simon happy.

And he’s bloody taking it.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

taglist (CLOSED! not adding anyone else, sorry!):

@daisychainsinknots , @bunnysdaydreams , @iite-cool , @lahniu , @pagesfalling , @tapioca-milktea1978 , @live-love-be-unique , @thelaisydazy , @littleghosthunter , @bossva , @emotion-no-hot-yes-hotel-trivago , @chamomiletealeaf , @ghosts-hoe , @kariiiel , @ltbarnes , @irregulardongyoung , @spacelia , @hayleybarnesx , @infpt-zylith , @xxshadowbabexx , @frescoisnotinthemilitary , @leeeenistop , @lucienbarkbark

@severenswife , @enarien, @agoodmoviekiss , @l0lziez , @whos-fran , @greatstormcat , @openup-yourmind , @neoarchipelago , @sodavrr , @cutiecusp , @lilliumrorum , @c-nstantine , @kneelforloki , @comeonatmebruh , @codsunshine , @waiting-so-long , @captainquake42 , @gazspookiebear , @mynameismisty , @reap3erslov3 , @reaper-chan666 , @poohkie90 , @kitwithnokat , @stick-the-dumbass , @mothsdrabbles , @justanerd1 , @thesinsoflust , @thriving-n-jiving , @blckbrrybasket

[theoutcastrogue]

"The knife is a weapon of the Other"

"The emerging martial art of Bartitsu, appearing in middle-class magazines during the Boer War, was the encapsulation of British civilian gallantry. Yet Bartitsu would have slid into obscurity had it not been for its curious appearance in the Sherlock Holmes canon. The final showdown of the ‘duel’ between Holmes and Moriarty is a wrestling match between two Victorian masterminds. When Holmes returns to London he tells Watson that he and Moriarty went to battle at the Reichenbach Falls unarmed. Holmes managed to ‘slip through’ Moriarty’s grip as he possessed ‘some knowledge’ of ‘baritsu, or the Japanese system of wrestling’, adding that the art had on occasion been useful to him.

Founded in the 1890s by an Anglo-Scottish engineer, Edward William Barton-Wright (1860–1951), Bartitsu was a synthesis of British boxing, French la savate (kickboxing) and Japanese jujitsu. Barton-Wright tapped into the need for a bourgeois form of self-defence, something which he could promote as being British and yet was also exotic and refined.

The principal aim of Bartitsu’s promoters was ‘to provide a means whereby the higher classes of society may protect themselves from the attacks of hooligans and their like all over the world’. These urban gangs were a new form of folk devil, descendants of the mid-Victorian-era garotter. While they were armed with clubs, knuckles, iron bars and leather belts, it is doubtful that they carried firearms. Nevertheless, the press did represent the hooligan as a threatening presence.

Perhaps the scares promoted the growth of a burgeoning culture of ‘British’ self-defence which avoided the aggressive and increasingly unmanly action of using a firearm against a ruffianly lower-class opponent equipped only with basic weapons.

Barton-Wright follows a literary tradition when he presents his martial art as a British form of self-defence. Pierce Egan’s well-known self-defence manual was supplemented with a word on the ‘Englishness’ of physical heroism, arguing that ‘Englishmen need no other weapons in personal contests than those which nature has so amply supplied them with’. In 1910 the former lightweight boxing champion Andrew J. Newton said in his manual Boxing that ‘the native of Southern Europe flies to his knife’, whereas the ‘Britisher […] is handy with his fists in an emergency’. Elsewhere it was maintained that the ‘Italian, Greek, Portuguese, or South American’ ‘give preference to the knife’ while the Englishman extols boxing. For Barton-Wright, British boxers ‘scorn taking advantages of another man when he is down’, while a foreigner might ‘use a chair, or a beer bottle, or a knife’ or, ‘when a weapon is available’, he might employ ‘underhanded means’. The views of these articles reappear in a later self-defence manual of 1914, where it is argued that Britons ‘live in a country where knife and revolver are not much in evidence’. This statement about the low number of firearms and edged weapons can be read as an attempt to extol British virtues and is not necessarily representative of reality. The knife is a weapon of the Other. Barton-Wright’s view that English practitioners of Bartitsu are principled men is reflected in the Sherlock Holmes canon, where Holmes never uses a knife, although his enemies, whether foreign or British, do so at times."

— Emelyne Godfrey, Masculinity, Crime and Self-Defence in Victorian Literature (Palgrave Macmillan, 2013) (very abridged)

[octuscle]

Experience abroad

Daichi was more than pissed off when he finally arrived at his shabby Airbnb in south London. He had been looking forward to the two semesters abroad. He had been looking forward to making new friends and improving his English. But when he arrived at his small apartment and opened his suitcase, he immediately realized that something was wrong. Instead of his carefully folded clothes and personal belongings, he found the rough, dark clothes of a skinhead. All stuffed into the suitcase rather than packed. And everything smelled of cigarettes, beer and sweat. The journey had been exhausting enough… And now this!

It was late. Daichi had been on his feet for over 36 hours. He had sat next to a screaming toddler during the flight. All he wanted to do was sleep. The last thing he noticed before he fell asleep was that smell. That male smell… He was dreaming wildly. A collage of boots, bomber jackets, but also brass knuckles, broken noses and soccer stadiums. It was still dark when he woke up all sweaty. He had slept naked. Naked except for the Prince Albert through his glans. Shit! He had no piercings. Daichi took his cock in his hand. Confused at first, but also somehow fascinated. The boots, the heavy jeans, the bomber jacket… And now the piercing. It was all so different from what he knew. Out of curiosity and perhaps a little out of a sense of adventure, he put on the clothes. When he looked at himself in the mirror, he felt strangely powerful and self-confident. It was a feeling he had never experienced before, and he liked it.

Even though he could have sworn the apartment was clean yesterday, there was now a full ashtray on the kitchen table. There were beer cans in the sink. He shook the cans. There was obviously something left in one of them. Stale and warm. It tasted like piss. He loved it. And he needed a cigarette to go with it. One of the butts in the ashtray looked as if he could get a few more puffs out of it. He felt a Zippo in his trouser pocket. Engraved on it was a stylized picture of a young man hanging on a cross. But no Jesus. The young man was wearing jeans, suspenders and boots. And was shaved bald.

Smoking and finishing his beer, Daichi inspected the apartment. He had been too tired yesterday. There were also full ashtrays on the floor next to the sofa, which was covered in burn holes, and on the bedside table. There were exhausted butts on the floor in the dirty bathroom. He had to piss. He wouldn't even sit on the dirty toilet to take a shit. But flip up the toilet seat? Shit, for losers! It felt good to have his impressive cock with the scrotal ladder and the PA in his hand and to shoot the yellow, steaming stream into the bowl. Everything felt good. Good and right.

Damn, he had to have more butts somewhere. A couple of hi-viz jackets and his bomber jackets hung on the coat rack. He patted the pockets. Thank God! He found an almost full packet in one jacket. He looked at his cell phone. It was 03:30. Saturday morning shit, and he was home. How pathetic! He put on the jacket in which he had found the cigarettes and left the apartment.

He liked the way the boots sounded on the asphalt. The boots were great anyway. They gave him strength and self-confidence. There weren't many people left on the street. However, he noticed that the people he met treated him differently - with a mixture of respect and fear. Daichi felt like he was being remote-controlled. He knew where he wanted to go. The club's neon sign flickered. A few mates stood outside the door, smoking and drinking beer. One evening, he was approached by a group of men who were also dressed like this. He greeted them with a curt "Oi", his mates nodded and respectfully stepped aside. Daichi was not necessarily known as a thug. But it was well known that it was better not to mess with him.

Daichi loved the club. Nowhere else was the air so impregnated with pure testosterone. Not even in the boxing gym where he trained his muscles every evening after work collecting garbage. And what was missing there was the additional stench of tobacco smoke, beer and piss. It was no longer necessarily full. But well-filled. The usual guys at the bar. They exchanged a few sentences about the latest soccer results, boxing matches and the pissers at the welfare office. But that wasn't why Daichi was here. His cock hadn't gone completely soft since he'd woken up. But here it was getting hard again, very hard. And he knew that a whole bunch of guys had moved in the direction of the piss chutes since his appearance. Another beer, and his bladder was ready to baptize a few of his new victims.

05:30. Slowly, the club emptied. Daichi's bladder and balls were also emptied. One last beer. It was time to go to bed. A few more hours of sleep. And then off to the stadium. The pissers from the opposing fan block were just waiting to make the acquaintance of his fists.

Inspiration by @felinefur0502

Pics by @ki-kink

[katsumox]

domestic moment with bf!hobie <3

hobie brown x black reader. he loves u so bad its sickening. was a blurb but i’m obsessed with this man so it’s kinda long lol.

"Anyway, 's not stupid. 'S oxymoronic," you pout, rummaging through your makeup bag.

Your Erykah playlist is ringing through your small shared flat in south London. You pull your bohemian braids back into a ponytail before continuing your search.

"Dunno what that means, love," Hobie drawls as he picks at his nails, "Besides, thought you was gonna do my eye-black or whatever, seems you're chattin' me up instead, yeah?"

"Whatever, Bibi," you smile, finally finding your liner. "And you know what an oxymoron is, you ain't dumb. Sit."

"Oh my days," Hobie mutters, fighting the smirk creeping across his face, "Can't believe you've got me following orders. Get on with it, then," he says as he sits on the loveseat.

He's fiddling with the chipped black paint on his nails again as he watches you size up his face, fingers posed like a picture frame.

You huff, two-toned lips poked out in thought. You open the liquid liner, and as you're about to do the first line of black on his eyelid-

Hobie's deep voice breaks your concentration.

"Babes. Don't fuck me up now, yeah?" He hums, looking up at you as you purse your glossy lips, head cocking to the side.

"Can't concentrate if you can't keep your mouth shut."

He smirks at your slight attitude before retorting, "Sides, you're not close enough, innit? Come sit with me," He says, patting his thighs.

You sigh as you grip the liner pen with your teeth, sinking down on his lap. His arms reflexively come to rest loosely around your waist, as his fingers drum out nameless little beats on the meat of your hips.

"Go on then, love," Hobie encourages as you raise the pen, finally making the first marks of eyeliner across his dark eyes.

"Aw shit," You mutter, looking at his liner, "Fucked it up a bit, but I'll..." You trail off as you feel the intensity of Hobie's stare.

“You’ll what, babe,” he rumbles, low eyes trained on yours.

“Smudge it,” you mutter, as Hobie tucks a loose braid behind your ear. “…Finna smudge it out.”

Hobie’s eyes flicker from yours to your lips as his ringed hand holds your jaw. His lips part, his gaze never leaving yours as he runs his thumb over your cheek.

“Whatcha lookin’ at, Bibi?”

“You,” he drawls, pulling your jaw downward, towards him.

His lips are on yours, one hand still cradling your jaw as the other rubs comforting circles into your hip. Your acrylics are scratching at his neck as he presses you impossibly closer to him, smiling into your kisses.

“Gotta finish… Lemme finish, Bibi,” you breathe into the kiss.

“Kay, then,” he hums, “Hurry, wanna keep snoggin’ you.”

You giggle at his honesty, taking the pad of your thumb to smudge his liner. After a moment, you lean back, analyzing your work.

“You so pretty, Bibi,” you mutter, softly squeezing his cheek.

“You’re talkin’,” Hobie rumbles, chucking your chin, “Pretty ting like you, callin’ me pretty.”

His lips are shiny, covered in the brown gloss and lip liner from your kisses. His fingers never stop rubbing soft circles in your hips as he looks up at you.

“Give the pretty girl another kiss,” You demand, hastily tacking on a “Please.”

Hobie snorts at your demand, pierced eyebrow cocked in question.

“You think you give orders round here?”

You raise your brows in turn, watching and waiting.

Hobie huffs in feigned exasperation.

“Alright then, fine. Fine,” he sighs, “Not doing it ‘cause you told me to. ‘M doin’ it ‘cause I like snoggin’ leng tings like you.”

He kisses you again, sighing sweet nothings into the kiss.

[megumimania]

london boy eren, jean and connie hcs!!

a/n: back on my connie bs again after @westcinny said he gave central cee vibes i’ve been obsessed . also snuck eren and jean here cuz why not 🤭 the format changed when it got to eren and jean it was 3am when i was writing this and i got lazy sorry 😭

warnings: slight connie x reader if you squint! v brief mention of weed

mini glossary:

bump- to get on public transport without paying

bait- someone who is well known.

leng- means beautiful or attractive

CONNIE

londoner!connie who is from south and is always repping it to the point where people are sick of him like bro we get it!😭

londoner!connie who is a trapstar/techfleece warrior even when it’s hot asf outside, he refuses to take if off

but when he does take it off trust you’ll see him in a white tee, grey shorts combo with a gold chain and af1s

londoner!connie who always bumping train despite him having an oyster card with money on it (tfl be charging extortionate prices for the train tho😔)

londoner!connie who has several tattoos, (with one dedicated to you ofc) also has a shit ton of piercings

londoner!connie who’s playlist mostly consists of drill music (both uk and ny cuz he doesn’t have a preference) but is always on the hunt for new genres of music

londoner!connie who has deffo taken his birthday pic at canary wharf once 😭 (its a rite of passage for us londoners i swearrrr)

londoner!connie who used to use his e scooter to get around everywhere cuz he failed his driving test a couple of times. but now he’s driving a benz so progress ig!

londoner!connie who rarely goes to motives but when he does its because you ask him to, he always stands to the side with his drink watching you dance with your friends, before you drag him in to catch a whine from you

londoner!connie who is more of a smoker than a drinker, trust that he always has a blunt behind his ear but sometimes you’ll catch him sipping a magnum

londoner!connie who is ALWAYS at the chicken and the chip shop its gotten to the point where bossman already inputs his order without saying anything

londoner!connie who pops up to your ig stories with either ‘😍😍’ or ‘you’re looking leng icl’

londoner!connie who despite his cold demeanour is loved by the little kids on the estate like hes always spoiling them buying them sweets, toys all that shit

londoner!connie who calls girls darlin’ or babe

EREN

he would be from north or northwest london

eren would be bait like he prob has half of london on snap

he knows connie from mutual friends

fellow tech fleece warrior like he owns so much in so many colours omg

eren refuses to drive, he rides his e scooter everywhere or he ubers most of the time

he got banned from tfl after trying to bump train and got caught by the ticket officer

he’s always at motives like every week no matter how far they are

has several girls in rotation, london boys are not loyal sorry 😔

you can catch him at westfields tryna chat to girls

he got rich from crypto so he’s always at the shard or the ivy or at hakkasan

but he does fraud on the side always doing refund methods sigh

eren’s ig stories consist of him smoking, him thirst trapping with drill in the back or him flexing with stacks of cash

has an insane watch and jewellery collection

JEAN

Jean would not be from london lmao

but if he did he would probably live in like wimbledon or some shit

Hes one of those guys who claim london but they live in surrey

He’s a corteiz/stussy warrior he’d never be caught dead in anything else

Always talking about uk undergroud rap but only knows knucks or sainte

He forces the slang so hard 😭 when he knows that he had never spoken like that in his life

Jean probably drives a range rover

Hes’s always at hyde park

Jean is a vape addict like ik he has a collection of vapes LOOOL

he always shops at harrods and waitrose none of that tesco, lidl stuff for him

[kawaiibarty]

that tiny ass intro post isn't enough, you coked up gremlin

my bad. some more info about the coked up gremlin running this blog:

characteristics:

curly haired mullet haver

eighteen, fortunately literate

south african 🇿🇦

is most likely a dog

under 5'5 (by a singular inch)

asexual, panromantic, trans (ftm), polyamourous...polyamarous...poly something. the poly thing. with the ugly flag. with the pi symbol. chat why does it have the pi symbol???? fuckin nerds

not white 👎🏼

hobbies

reading and abandoning fanfics halfway through

making playlists for absolutely no one, but if you ask him he'd probably make you a 1 to 3 hour long playlist depending on how hungry he is atm

on the topic of hunger, eating crunchy food

doom scrolling. any app. he once went down a fox porn rabbit hole on reddit. don't worry, he's not a zoophile.

more hobbies pending.

titles:

jabrizzle, master of all things equine

jabrizzle the horse wizard

j-fizzle

j-dog

official j-dog

jam

jam doughnut

jam dough

jammy

ham/hammy

roy

daddy

father

jamborino

jamie

arrecho

shanks

fandoms:

marauders (harry potter), yuri on ice, cowboy bebop, the office, the walking dead/fear the walking dead, berserk, death note, pjo/hoo, doukyuseii, sally face, castlevania, that one animated spiderman series from aeons ago, cyberpunk edgerunners, idk there's more i can't remember oH CRIMINAL MINDS, omori, adventure time uh yeah ill keep adding as i rememberrrr

music:

placebo, radiohead, deftones, pierce the veil, fall out boy, gorillaz, type o negative, DAVID BOWIE, troye sivan, smashing pumpkins, the london suede, r.e.m., fleetwood mac, interpol, the 1975, silversun pickups, hum, sneaker pimps, blur, limp bizkit, linkin park, the beatles, simon & garfunkel, the smiths, etc ig idk he listens to a lot of shit.

important:

@omelettejunkie @omelettejunkie @omelettejunkie

step by step guide to dealing with a james:

don't wake it up before 5am

it usually wakes up on its own around 5am but will not interact with other humans until 7/8am

do not feed it too early, additionally do not neglect to feed it at all

do not touch it's belongings without verbal permission, it will throw a fit

is introverted and will most likely wait for you to interact first. if it really likes you then it will initiate contact.

failure to reach contact will result in nothing at all because he's a doofus

uhm, if he doesn't respond, it's not because he doesn't like you he's just an idiot and doesn't know how to respond to what you've said (again, might not be a bad thing but cut him some slack, he's just a lil guy)

will tell you to choke and die. for any reason

easily pissed off, it's a mommy issues thing. just don't be a sprinkledick

no.10

if it falls asleep before 9pm well... just let it.

family of the james:

husband: @omelettejunkie

eldest daughter: @mystical-night-madness

middle child: @garden-of-runar

favourite daughter: @jamespotterbbg

his adopted son: @emostrawrobbery

honorifics:

daddy

sir

comrade

that's all folks. stay safe.

[svt-luna]

╰ ᥫ᭡. ⋆· ˚ ༘ * SEVENTEEN LUNA FILES

Bae Jiyeon ❨ 배지연; born January 30, 1997 ❩ known mononymously as Luna, is a Korean-English singer. Born and raised in Kensington, London, United Kingdom. Luna lived in the United Kingdom for fourteen years before returning to South Korea in 2011. She is a member of the South Korean co-ed band SEVENTEEN and its fixed sub-group the Vocal Team.

╰ ౨ৎ BASICS

Birth Name: Bae Ji-Yeon ❨ 배지연 ❩

English Name: Luna Bae

Stage Name: Luna

Birthdate: January 30, 1997

Birthplace: Kensington, London, United Kingdom

Nationality: Korean-English

Ethnicity: Korean

Spoken Languages: Korean ❨ fluent ❩, English ❨ fluent + English accent ❩, Japanese ❨ intermediate ❩

╰ ౨ৎ ARCHETYPES

Zodiac Sign: Aquarius

Chinese Zodiac Sign: Ox

MBTI: INTJ

Hogwarts House: Slytherin

Godly Parent: Hades

╰ ౨ৎ PHYSICAL

Height: 169cm ❨ 5’6" ❩

Weight: 43kg ❨ 94lbs ❩

Blood Type: O+

Hair Color: Black

Eye Color: Brown

Body Modifications:

Piercings: Lobe ❨ 3 on each ear ❩, Conch ❨ right ear ❩, Helix ❨ 2 on each ear ❩, Flat ❨ left ear ❩, Tragus ❨ both ears ❩, Rook ❨ both ear ❩, Daith ❨ right ear ❩, Forward Helix ❨ right ear ❩, and Belly button piercing

Tattoos: The number 17 ❨ side of right wrist — dedicated to the band ❩, Crescent moon ❨ side of left wrist — dedicated to her name ‘Luna’ ❩, The letter J in cursive ❨ inside her left ring finger — her initial from her name ‘Jiyeon’ but some fans theorize it’s for ‘Jeonghan’ ❩, A ribbon/bow ❨ on the back of her right hand — her trademark love for ribbons and bows ❩, ‘Lady of the Moon’ calligraphy ❨ by her right rib cage — a nod to her name once more ❩, ‘eventually’ calligraphy ❨ inside her right middle finger — just like she said, “Eventually everything that is for me will come.” ❩, and ‘lovebug’ calligraphy ❨ on the back of her neck — the nickname her grandparents had given her ❩

Unique Features: Dimple on right cheek, piercing siren eyes ❨ cat-eye/ foxy shaped ❩, beauty mark on right cheekbone and left cheek, smirk smile

Medical Conditions: Anemic and has a former collarbone fracture caused after falling during a ballet routine when she was 10 years old

╰ ౨ৎ LUNA CLAIMS

Face Claim: Jang Wonyoung ❨ IVE ❩

Singing Voice: IU

Speaking Voice: Jang Wonyoung ❨ has a naturally deep voice when she speaks, however gets higher when she whines and unironically and unknowingly does aegyo ❩

Dance Style: Momo ❨ TWICE ❩ — SEVENTEEN performances, Kazuha ❨ LE SSERAFIM ❩ — Ballet performances

╰ ౨ৎ PERSONALITY

MBTI: INTJ ❨ The Architect ❩

Personality Traits: As an INTJ, often referred to as ‘The Architect’, Luna embodies a unique blend of intelligence, strategic thinking, and an independent spirit. Her personality reflects a deep understanding of the world around her, often viewing situations through a logical and analytical lens. This makes her an exceptional problem-solver, able to assess challenges and devise effective solutions with ease.

Growing up in Kensington, London, Luna was immersed in a world of creativity and intellect. As an only child of a retired ballerina and an anthropologist, she was exposed to the arts and sciences from a young age. Her mother encouraged her to pursue ballet, starting lessons at the age of three. This early training not only honed her physical abilities but also instilled in her a sense of discipline and dedication. However, Luna often felt the pressure to excel, which led to her developing a strong work ethic and perfectionist tendencies.

Despite her outward confidence, Luna struggled with feelings of isolation. Her intimidating features and talent sometimes made it hard for her to connect with her peers, leading her to seek solace in books, art, and music. These experiences nurtured her introspective side, allowing her to develop a rich inner world filled with creativity and imagination.

During her training period, Luna’s INTJ traits truly shone. Her analytical mind enabled her to quickly grasp complex choreography and vocal techniques, allowing her to excel in evaluations. She was often dubbed the ‘Ace’ among her fellow trainees for her versatility and ability to adapt to various tasks effortlessly. However, this did not come without challenges; she faced moments of great pressure to live up to the title and of self-doubt, particularly in a competitive environment where she felt the weight of expectations.

Luna’s leadership qualities emerged during her training, as she often took the initiative to help fellow trainees improve. Her strategic mindset allowed her to navigate the often chaotic training schedule, and she quickly learned to manipulate situations to her advantage, especially during group activities or evaluations. While she maintained a somewhat aloof demeanor, her ability to connect with her peers through shared interests— such as crafts with Joshua or dance challenges with Hoshi— showed her capacity for forming meaningful relationships.

Now as a world known idol, Luna’s INTJ personality manifests in her strong presence and charisma on stage. She is known for her meticulous approach to performances, carefully analyzing each aspect of her shows to ensure they are executed flawlessly. Her strategic thinking allows her to anticipate audience reactions, making her a master at captivating crowds.

Luna’s intelligence also extends to her interactions with fans and the media. She navigates interviews and public appearances with ease, often using her wit and charm to leave a lasting impression. However, she remains somewhat guarded, finding it challenging to open up fully about her feelings, particularly in the context of her somewhat complicated relationship with Jeonghan.

While she is often seen as intimidating due to her ‘resting bitch face’, those who take the time to know her discover her warmth and loyalty. She is protective of her fellow members, particularly the youngest ones, and values the deep connections she has formed within the group. Luna’s ability to balance her independent spirit with her caring nature makes her a unique and multi-faceted character in the K-Pop industry.

Positive Traits: Independent, disciplined, versatile, charismatic, protective, strategic, analytical, ambitious, intelligent, loyal

Negative Traits: Perfectionist, aloof, stubborn, overly critical, reserved

╰ ౨ৎ HISTORY

1997-2011: Luna was born in Kensington, London, into a well-off family that nurtured her artistic inclinations. Her mother, a retired ballerina, introduced her to the world of dance, leading Luna to begin ballet training at the tender age of three. This early exposure fostered her love for performing arts and instilled a strong work ethic in her. Academically gifted, she attended Southbank International School Kensington, where she excelled in her studies and developed a deep passion for music. Despite her wonderful childhood, Luna often felt isolated due to her personality, seeking solace in her artistic pursuits and immersing herself in the creativity that surrounded her.

2011-2012: At the age of fourteen, Luna made the pivotal decision to move back to Seoul, South Korea, to pursue her dream of becoming an idol. This transition marked a significant change in her life, as she entered the competitive world of K-Pop. She initially trained at YG Entertainment for a year, where she faced the rigors of idol training and learned to adapt to the intense environment. Throughout this time, she was constantly approached by PLEDIS Entertainment, a smaller company that offered her a chance to further her dreams. After much consideration, Luna trusted her instincts and made the bold decision to switch companies, believing it would ultimately lead her closer to her goals. She has mentioned in an interview that her leaving a huge and well known company for a smaller one was one of the riskiest thing she has ever done and yet she does not regret it.

2013-2015: Luna trained for another two years at PLEDIS Entertainment, honing her skills as a lead vocalist in preparation for her debut. During this time, she faced various challenges, including rigorous practice schedules and the pressure to excel among her peers. However, her determination and talent shone through, allowing her to form strong bonds with the other trainees. She was supposed to either debut in a girl group or as a solo artist, however, in 2015, Luna finally achieved her dream of debuting as a member of the co-ed band SEVENTEEN, alongside thirteen talented male members. This milestone marked the beginning of her journey in the spotlight, showcasing her versatility and dedication as an artist.

2015-Present: Since her debut, Luna's life as an idol has been a rollercoaster ride filled with both challenges and triumphs. She has navigated the ups and downs of the entertainment industry, facing public scrutiny and the pressures of fame. Despite these obstacles, the joy of being with her fellow members, whom she considers family, has been a constant source of strength. Together, they have achieved remarkable success, creating unforgettable memories and sharing their passion for music with fans worldwide. Luna's perseverance and commitment to her craft continue to drive her as she embraces the journey of an idol, always striving to achieve her goals and dreams.

╰ ౨ৎ LUNA-VERSE MASTERLIST

ೃ⁀➷ comment or message me to be added to the tag list :)

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ SUBMIT A REQUEST AND ASK ME ANYTHING!

: ̗̀➛ requests are always open ♡ - lunaఌ

Taglist: @yeoberryx @minminghao @angie-x3

[nocoastposts]

but if you could see us from a distance, you’d know i’ve always been so close to you | @anincompletelist | E | 10k

Objectively, standing half-soaked from rainwater with a stitch in his side and an uncomfortable, raging hard-on outside his worst enemy’s door is not Henry’s finest moment. It’s not even on the list.

– or, henry is afflicted with a curse-gone-wrong that stipulates that only his sworn enemy, alex claremont-diaz, can touch him.

Got a ticket for two | @clottedcreamfudge | E | 10.6k

Henry likes his apartment - he has done since the day he moved in a year ago. The light in the sitting room is gorgeous at all times of day thanks to the ceiling to floor windows which lead out onto a south-facing balcony, only just large enough for the plethora of plantlife his flatmates care for. The kitchen is always stocked with his favourite tea, everyone keeps to their allotted cupboard and fridge space, and the bathrooms are kept meticulously clean. There’s a rota for chores stuck to the fridge with magnets from Rhode Island and Minnesota, London and Milan, with everything typed up neatly so that nobody has to squint to read someone else’s awful handwriting.

His flatmates themselves? Well, they’re a little… strange.

why are you googling vampires? | @daisymae-12 | E | 13.9k

Alex isn’t really looking for love – he’s got enough on his plate with law school thanks – but when he’s approached by Henry at a bar one night, all it takes is one small, shy smile and Alex is smitten.

Or, Alex accidentally takes a hot, hungry vampire home and almost dies (not really, he’s just being a dramatic little shit)

(these last two fics are both from the series the only thing on my mind - Piercer!Alex teaches Henry about the inner workings of BDSM in mid-90s New York)

wanna know that body like it’s mine | @hypnostheory | E | 5.8k

Henry takes a fortifying breath and sticks his tongue out for Alex to look at.

“Okay good, now hold it up like this,” Alex says, holding his mouth open and sticking his tongue up against the roof of his mouth. Henry copies the motion, flinching when Alex grabs his chin and tilts his head up. He hums as he looks into Henry’s mouth, nodding to himself. “Damn, you have the perfect anatomy for a piercing.”

Henry’s not even sure if that’s a compliment, but his heart skips a beat. “Thank you.”

– After losing a bet, Henry has to get a tongue piercing. Alex, the incredibly attractive piercer, gets stuck in Henry’s head in more ways than he expected.

covered in you | @hypnostheory | E | 10.6k

Alex blinks at him, tilting his head to the side. Sometimes Alex looks at him like he’s trying to figure out some strange riddle. “Can I ask you a personal question?” Henry switches to the other boot, nodding for Alex to continue. “Do you have a thing for leather?”

Henry blinks. “Erm, no?” He finishes working the leather conditioner in, letting it set. He wipes his hands off on his microfiber cloth, resisting the urge to smell the clean pine tar of the conditioner before he does. “I mean, doesn’t everyone like how leather smells?”

Alex stares at him for a few painful seconds. “Do you just like how it smells?”

This is the first fic rec post I’ve done in years, and it’s my first one ever for the Red, White & Royal Blue fandom!

Please remember to read the tags and note the E ratings. Feel free to send me fic rec requests anytime.

[steppin-on-the-last-train]

cowboy like me

Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Summary: As a part-time criminal and a full-time escape artist your first priority was always to keep people at arm's length. When you meet someone who also knows what it's like to live from day to day, you're not so sure you want to let her slip away.

Foreword: Title taken from the Taylor Swift song cause it’s evermore season y’all

The first time you met the Black Widow was aboard a train heading south toward London. 

You sat, facing the window and watching the people mill about the terminal outside. Your cheeks were still red and wind bitten from your commute to the station. The car was almost full now, most everyone dressed in Manchester United jerseys and hats and the like. You blended in just fine among them. Another fan headed home after the match with a scarf and an old pair of trainers. 

You rehashed the details of your current mark in your head like a mantra. Jameson Harris. 42 Malcolm Rd. Wife was Anna Harris. Two children, Marcus and Emily. 

“All aboard. The 5:00 train from Manchester to London is off in three minutes,” the conductor announced from a speaker overhead. You could barely hear it over the excitement of the crowd. A little boy ran screaming down the aisle, his mother giving a futile chase. 

In the set of seats facing you two men about your age sat down. They were clearly drunk, laughing like hyenas and shoving each other in a manner that bordered on real anger. At least one of them smelled like heavy smoke.

“Hey, mate,” the tall, lanky one with a bad neck tattoo waved at you. “How about that game, eh?” 

You grinned widely as if you had one too many drinks coursing through your veins. “Fucking wild.” You stumbled over the words as if your tongue didn’t sit correctly in your mouth. “Best match of the season, if you ask me.” 

The other guy, fitter and dark-haired took out a lighter and a cigarette. He lit it and pulled a huge drag. The exhaled smoke blew right into the face of a passing attendant. 

She coughed stiffly into her hand. “Sir, there is no smoking allowed onboard. I am going to have to ask you to step out or please put it out.”

“Are you talking to me, sweetheart?” You averted your gaze, scrolling mindlessly through the contacts in your phone. If the woman was looking for a hero, you were a false beacon of hope. 

“Yes. Now, please. There is truly no smoking allowed in the car.” The acrid stench of nicotine once more assaulted everyone misfortunate enough to be in the general vicinity.

The man took a deep breath and stood. Elaborately he stubbed the cigarette out on the back of his seat, little bits of ash flaking into the air. The attendant moved on and he dropped back into the chair. “Fucking cunt,” he swore loud enough to cut through the din. 

You closed your eyes to shut out the cloudy winter light intent on piercing your retinas and the jerky movements of the other passengers, high off the energy from the match. You swore you would take a break after this job. You had made that exact same promise to yourself last week in Bogota, and the time before in Cairo. No, you wouldn’t stop. Just as relentless as the blood rushing through your veins, stopping would be tantamount to death.

“Excuse me.” A voice caused your train of thought to come to a screeching halt. Innocence dripped from the words like honey, and you could tell the woman’s voice was pitched up from her normal tone. “Is anyone sitting here?” A slender hand gestured at the seat next to yours. 

You pushed yourself up from the slouch you had been lounging in, feeling self-conscious. “No. Go right ahead,” you answered, cockney accent shining right through. She was pretty, you noted; about your age as well. A hitch tugged at the back of your brain. An evolutionary alarm from living your entire life on the move. This woman was not to be trusted. Underneath the wide eyes and the girlish smile was a viper coiled to strike. 

“Thank you,” she said, looking quite small against the backdrop of the raucous train car.

A wolf whistle pierced the air, looking for trouble. The bloke who had been smoking flashed a predator’s grin at the blonde beside you. “Where are you traveling to all alone now, girlie?” 

You watched the exchange from the corner of your eye. Why did conflict seem to follow wherever you stepped foot? The woman merely glanced up from her book, unwilling to feed the fire. 

“Oi. Why don’t you go ahead and look at me when I’m talking to you? I know you can hear me.” The train had begun to depart, ushering in a wave of quiet to the car as passengers settled down. The demand was impossible to ignore. Even as parents hushed children and drunkards passed out in increasing numbers, his voice only gained intensity. 

“This train is headed for London, is it not?” She asked, face as innocent as a blank sheet of paper. 

“Hey Jack. She’s a witty one,” he said, slapping his friend on the chest. The woman flicked her gaze at you. Your attention wandered to her like a moth to a flame. You stomped down on any inclination to help her. You weren’t going to lose this game of chicken.

“Sweetheart.” The man so called Jack joined in the instigating. “How about you come home with us, eh? I’ve got a real nice flat. I bet you’d like the bedroom.”

“No, I’ve got a better idea. Why don’t you come with me to the bathroom right now?” The dark-haired one surged forward, grimy hand outstretched toward the woman. Caution gone with the wind, your arm darted out on its own accord. You intercepted his wrist, tugging harshly enough for him to stumble closer to you. 

The blonde’s eyes widened and she shrank in on herself in her seat. You saw right through the act. An elderly man with a newsboy cap across the aisle watched the altercation like a deer caught in headlights. You prayed he wouldn’t call for help.

The entire damn point was to not draw attention to yourself. Today though, electricity charged the air with biting energy. The presence of the mystery-shrouded person beside you drove you past the gates of reason. 

You squeezed the man’s pinky until you heard the crunch of bone pushed too far. He screeched like a cat. “Go and find yourself another seat. I don’t care if the car is full. You’ll throw yourself out the rear if you have to. Don’t let me see your fucking face again,” you whispered in his ear. The words leapt flaming from your tongue.

Eyes wild with adrenaline and the courage of alcohol, he swung at you with his free fist. You caught the clumsy punch, seized the man by the wrist, and snapped it clean. He screamed, turning the heads of the other passengers. Your gaze swept like a searchlight through the crowd, promising more hurt to anyone who might even think about interfering. 

He crashed back into his friend’s lap before staggering to his feet. His sniffles and shuffling footsteps echoed through the silent traincar. “Go on,” you directed his buddy, who wasted no time before similarly scrambling from his seat. A final burst of dauntlessness flared up your throat. “What the fuck are you all staring at me for?” You broadcasted to the intrigued onlookers.

Half of these people weren’t sober enough to remember this in the morning. For those who did, you would be a completely different person the second you stepped foot off this godforsaken vehicle. 

“Thank you,” the woman said, sickly sweet.

“Don’t mention it.” You admitted beating up assholes wasn’t an entirely cumbersome task.

“I feel obliged now to ask what your name is,” she continued.

You raised your eyebrows, turning in her direction. “What about stranger danger? How do you know I didn’t just stop them so I could be alone with you?”

“How do you know I needed your help?” She batted the question back at you.

“Touche.” You knew she didn’t. But she had indeed wanted to keep her cards close to her chest at the expense of you revealing yours. You offered a hand. “I’m Sam.”

“Nadia,” she replied, conceding the handshake. Her palms and fingers were lined with ridges of calluses. 

“That’s a pretty name.” But not one that belonged to her, you thought.

She was so close now. The setting sunlight streamed through the window and coaxed the vibrance from the green of her irises. You stopped yourself from lingering there too long. You imagined all the people who had lost to her siren’s call before.

You cleared your throat and broke off the staring match. “Can I ask what you’re doing in England? Excuse me assuming that you’re not from around here.” If she wanted to play this game, you didn’t see the harm in joining in. 

“I’m visiting a friend.” Her American accent drew attention. Odd for a thief or a spy or whoever she was to forgo language assimilation. “What about you, Sam? Did you grow up here?” 

“I did. Never been out of the country meself.” Lies to you, but truths for Sam the football fan.

“Got anyone special at home?” She smirked, looking up at you from a downturned face.

You scoffed. She was messing with you. “No. Not for me. I like to keep available. You never know when an opportunity might come around. I’m not usually one to let a good thing pass me by.”

“And what makes a special opportunity? How do you know one when you see it?” How fitting that smoke still lingered in the air. 

“I guess,” you started slowly. “Some people just have this spark about them.” 

She wet her lips. “Do you think I have it?” If some people sparked with electricity, she certainly blazed with the sun’s heat. 

The corner of your mouth lifted in a smile. You rolled your eyes with playful mirth. That was all the answer she needed.

Good thing as soon as the train pulled into the station in London you would get your ass as far away from her as possible. And with any luck, as the moon eclipses the sun your paths would cease to cross for a very long time.

—

Prime Minister Jameson Harris had an expensive taste in liquor. You were alone in his house, save for a half dozen security agents scattered about various entryways. Tonight you doubled as the man himself while he and his family had been whisked away to another secure location. You owed a friend in MI6 a favor, so you played the sitting duck amidst rumors of an assassination plot. Just another average night.

You snagged a crystal bottle of mystery alcohol from the shelf. Twisting the cork off with a pop you smelled it experimentally before taking a swig straight from the jug. Mister Harris had a fine taste in whiskey indeed. You rounded a giant mahogany table and sat, polished leather squeaking in protest. 

The study lights weren’t overwhelming thanks to the dimmers you had spent way too long fiddling with. In addition you had lit a couple of candles. The room had smelled too much like mothballs and stale paper for your taste.

You raised the whiskey bottle in a toast to an imaginary gathering. “Long live the United Kingdom. To the prosperity of humankind. May all mutant scum drop dead,” you pronounced with the fanfare of a juvenile king. No one had stuck around to tell you your birthday, but you still had a good year or two before you were of drinking age. That much at least, you knew.

You didn’t follow politics, not keen on allying yourself with a particular nation, but the anti-mutant sentiment reached you anyhow. Hate and fear for you and your kind served as a rallying point for human leaders. They ceased pointing their guns at each other and instead set their targets on you. 

Bottle in hand, you stood abruptly and turned toward the giant bookshelf behind you. Classic novels, history collections, and political theory publications lined the entire wall. You traced your fingers down their spines. You had to stay the night here, but thought it may be wiser to resist the call of sleep lest you don’t wake in the morning. 

You pulled a relatively thin volume down. Between the stealing and fleeing and occasional strong-arming you didn’t have a lot of time to read. Tonight, you could start playing catch up with The Scarlet Letter. 

You meandered back toward the desk. Glancing up, a cool breeze rushed at you from an open window. Your stomach dropped, heavy with an iron pit. The curtains flapped in the wind, taunting you for letting your guard down.

You set the whiskey and the book down on the desk and instead wrapped your hand around the slick steel of a pistol hidden beneath. “Show yourself,” you called in the voice of Jameson Harris. “Don’t think I won’t shoot you for breaking and entering.” 

The study was by no means cramped for room, but even still there were few places to hide. You cleared the room in less than a second before realizing the door was ajar too. 

You stalked out into the hall, only to find a guard passed out on the floor. You dug your fingers into your temple. Someone was clearly amusing themselves with the game they were playing. Even so, a chill ran down your spine. You weren’t used to being the rat in the maze in these situations. 

Outside the study, the rest of the house was blanketed in darkness. For you, the absence of light made no difference. You could see just fine with the barest hint of sunshine. From above the bannister, you peered down the sight of the gun at the foyer. The ground floor lay still, as if holding its breath. The security guard posted at the front door sat slumped against the wall. You couldn’t tell if the dark spot pooling beneath his body was born of shadow or something much more sinister. 

A cold hand on your shoulder jolted you from your search. Before you could turn around, meticulously sharpened steel carved a grinning line across your throat. You clamped a hand around the wound, panic fluttering in your chest like a trapped canary. From the corner of your warping vision you saw a figure, wrapped in a shawl of shadows. The light from their eyes waited eagerly for the one in yours to wink out.

You stumbled, choking on your own blood. Pink froth bubbled from your mouth, burning with the chase of death. Your attention slipped and you shifted from the body of Jameson Harris and back into yourself. Well, almost. What you imagined you might look like without the lizard eyes and cobalt blue skin of a freak. 

Beneath your palm your skin grew unnaturally warm. The waterfall of blood ceased its torrential flow. Slowly your skin sewed itself back together. You sighed in relief. You knew you could heal, but had never tested your powers to this extreme.

Behind you a voice muttered in Russian, “What the fuck?” 

You stood straight up, flicking blood absentmindedly from your hand. Surprise gripped your heart. Standing in the corner, as still as a statue was the girl from the train that had brought you here. Nadia no longer looked the picturesque part of a wonderstruck American teenager visiting London. Blonde hair, that you now decided had definitely been dyed, lay neatly down her back in an intricate braid. She wore a black form-fitting tactical suit. Not military issued, you thought. 

You blinked and found yourself staring down the muzzle of a pistol. You raised your hands in surrender, assuming the form you had been posing as on the train. A familiar rush raced from the top of your head to the ends of your limbs as your skin reformed itself. “Remember me?” You asked, spitting out a glob of blood and exposing red-stained teeth.

She cocked her head ever so slightly and just a moment of opportunity presented itself. You lunged for the gun while she grappled with the fact you’d been three completely different people in less than a minute. You let yourself shift back to your common appearance and vaulted across the floor. Muscles wound tight, you straightened your torso and kicked at the weapon.

Snapping back to reality she snatched the gun away just in time. You stood before she could re-aim and cut at her wrist. The gun clattered to the floor and you kicked it further down the hall. 

You craned your head to avoid a viscous elbow to the nose. Sweat began to build along your hairline and drip down the back of your neck. You didn’t fight often, preferring to run into the foliage rather than confront the enemy and run the risk of being caught. You missed the rush.

She fought like a dancer. Momentum built from a lunge forward charged a stinging jab at your ribs. You pushed her two steps back and she went for a low sweep at your legs. You moved so fast you could hear the rush of cloth through the air, the sound of a fist soaring at your gut. A knife appeared in her hand, opening a surgical gash along the length of your tricep. 

Hot blood ran down your arm. You weren’t sure what the limit of your healing factor was, but as the cut refused to close, you realized you might have spent it for tonight. 

Your heart thundered in your chest. You couldn’t lose, no doubt that if she caught you she wouldn’t hesitate to snap your neck and unload an entire round into your head, just in case. But you had to think five steps ahead even as a boot came flying hairwidths from your face and lightning fast slashes struck at any spot you left unprotected. 

She flipped herself and suddenly you were flat on your back, staring up at the ceiling. You pulled air back into your spent lungs, gasping as your fingers dug into the floorboards. From the corner of your vision you saw her bolt for the discarded gun. Panic flared through you and you sprung yourself up, tackling her off course.

The both of you crashed through the bannister and went soaring onto the ground floor. She managed to maneuver herself midair so that she would land on top of you. The impact shot up the knobs of your spine, your head whipping painfully against the cool floor. Her shoulder dug into your collarbone, breaths coming in steady little exhales. You lost your focus for a split second, the pain radiating from the back of your skull overwhelming everything else. 

Involuntarily you transformed into your natural appearance, attention split in so many ways you couldn’t hold onto maintaining your looks. You grit your teeth and shoved the woman off of you with all the strength you could muster, which admittedly beat the strongest of humans even on your worst days. She flew back and smashed into a side table, residing lamp tumbling down and shattering on the floor. 

You hurdled over the staircase railing at the halfway point and cleared the rest of the steps in one bound. You normalized your complexion, hoping the dark had shielded you from her seeing the momentary exposure. 

You scooped a gun up from the ground and whipped around, catching her at the top of the staircase. Strangling the grip, you tensed the muscles in your forearms and leveled it at her chest.

“Where’s Harris?” She asked, voice as harsh as the blade caught in her fist, still drip, drip, dripping with your blood. 

“A safe place. Somewhere far away from pretty women with sharp objects.” Your pointer finger ghosted over the trigger. A voice in the back of your mind urged you to pull it. Return the favor.

She arched one eyebrow. “You think I’m pretty?”

“I think you’re good.” You’d never tell her, but even with your enhanced strength and agility she’d had you on the ropes the entire fight. If you had so much as breathed differently you were sure the roles would be reversed right now. 

“But not good enough for you,” she finished. Even as she bowed completely at your mercy her expression gave nothing away. A long time ago, you thought, she sculpted her face from marble, and the mask had been cemented in place since.

You lowered the gun. You weren’t a killer anyhow.

Blood crusted under your fingernails and in the lines of your palms, your shirt was starting to stick to your skin. You slid it over your head and tossed it on the floor, well aware of the woman’s lingering gaze. 

You turned your back on her and strode into the bedroom, stealing a new shirt before locking yourself in the bathroom.

With a sigh you stopped holding a normal appearance and shifted back into your innate form. Staying in shape had become easier as you’d grown and fully navigated your powers but the process still ate up much of your concentration. Exhaustion slogged endlessly at your mind. 

You eyed your arm which had thankfully stopped actively bleeding, but the flesh still gaped open in a deep red valley. You pulled all the cabinets open, coming up with a roll of gauze and a bottle of rubbing alcohol. Catching your lip between your teeth you washed the stinging wound, a hiss escaping as you flushed it out. You wrapped the bandage tight around your arm, ripping the extra with your teeth.

Methodically you cleaned yourself up. Filling your mouth with cold water from the tap, the sour coppery taste flushed away from your tongue. Then you scrubbed at your face, neck, and chest, trying hard to ignore the blue ridged flesh of an aberration. As the adrenaline started to drain from your system, the realization that death had been seconds away from stealing your life weighed on your mind like a wet blanket. 

You scrubbed harshly at your hands until the water ran clear and then some. Staring at your reflection you slowly recomposed yourself. Freakishly red hair gave way to a more muted color, the yellow in your eyes faded to white, and bit by bit, the blue scales that cursed you with this power overturned into ordinary skin.

You curled your lips into a careless grin lined with a protective amount of cockiness. The great Mystique smiled back at you.

There you are, you thought.

The first time you had ever lied you were small and alone and desperately hungry for food. You had stolen a loaf of bread from a baker’s cart and bolted around a corner before shifting into someone else. When the seller asked you if you had seen a child run off, you looked him in the eye and told him no. 

You weren’t sure how that one little lie had consumed you until there was no you left. Every morning you woke up and put on a charming show at the cost of further warping the person you ought to be. You’d die in your castle of lies, alone and bitter. 

You walked back out into the hall, finding your attacker right where you left her. She stared down at the pool of blood staining the wood floor as if maybe she had imagined the entire ordeal.

“Unfortunately for you, I am still here,” you said. Unease churned in your stomach. Perhaps she was simply lying in wait, like a predator crouching in the tall yellow grass. “Made quite the mess though, don’t you think? The Prime Minister might have to look at new flooring.” You cringed as you stepped over the dark, coppery smelling spot. The warm light from the study spilled out into the hall. You walked into it, boldly turning your back on the woman. “Come on. I know you have questions.”

You leaned against the desk, next to a little bobble head of a dog. She walked in a few moments later, looking infinitely more at ease than she had in the hall. The knife had disappeared from her grasp. You saw right through the veil, having constructed a similar one in the privacy of the bathroom. 

“So you’re not Jameson Harris, and you’re not Sam from London’s east end.” You shook your head, flicking at the toy. “Then who are you?” She stopped a respectable distance away, standing with her shoulders back and chin high.

You told her your name. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d done that truthfully. Yet this stranger managed to coax it out of you with one question. Faith was a funny thing. “And you?” You asked, tracing the curve of her jaw with your eyes.

“Romanova. Natalia.” She told you so almost robotically, as if the name was reserved for other people to use against her. As if she did not have the right to define herself.

“Nice to meet you, Natalia.” You took another sip of the whiskey before offering her the bottle. She eyed it suspiciously. “It’s not poisoned, I promise. It’ll get you damn drunk though.”

She took the bottle, fingers brushing yours momentarily. “I prefer vodka,” she said, drinking as if she’d been denied water for the past week. She passed it back, staring at you as if searching for something. “How?” She asked, your expression denying her any plausible answer.

“How what?” You asked, failing to suppress a growing smirk.

“The disguises.” The firm line of her lips told you she wasn’t entertained by your antics. “You’re wearing some kind of suit, are you not?” You could imagine the gears turning in her head, trying to explain the impossible.  

You slid yourself back until you sat fully on the desktop. “Nope. Fanciest piece of technology I own is a little flip phone,” you said, tracing the smooth lip of the desk with your fingertips. “And I don’t wear tacky suits.” 

“I’m offended,” she said lowly, not sounding the slightest bit bothered.

“Don’t be. The whole dark assassin thing suits you,” you said, waving your hand. “Not me though. I mean, could you imagine me in a skin tight suit?” 

“I wouldn’t sell yourself short. I think you could pull it off.” She raked her gaze over you and heat rose to your cheeks. 

You transformed into an exact copy of her, inspecting your hands in wonder as if she wasn’t standing an arm’s length away. “You’re right,” you said in her voice. “I do look good.” You threw a toothy grin her way before shifting back with a woosh. 

Realization dawned on her, green eyes brightening. “You’re one of them,” she said.

“Yep.” You swirled the alcohol around, watching how the light played off the bottle. “One of them.”

“I’m sorry,” she said softly. “I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just I’ve never—I’ve never met a mutant before.” She seemed awestruck at the revelation. You were so used to being met with fear and disgust. 

“I’m sure you have. Especially with all of the traveling you do,” you said. You remembered the window, still propped open from earlier. “Those of us that can try to blend in with everyone else. Take any street in a big city, for example. If you walked around for a little I guarantee you’d pass at least one of us.” You gazed up at the night sky, dotted with a billion brilliant stars. The estate sat well removed from the city and its hungry lights. “Most of us learned pretty quickly how to adapt, how to stay safe and hidden in the crowd,” you explained. 

“And those of you who can’t?” You looked over your shoulder at Natalia, so curious yet so far from innocent herself. 

“We go underground to survive. Or run the risk of being killed, or worse.” You’d heard the rumors. Missing mutants spawned stories. Stories of various governments and other organizations abducting your kind for experimentation. A shiver crawled down your spine.

“Sounds like a lonely way to live.”

You slammed the window shut with more force than necessary. “Takes one to know one.” You guessed people in her life were nothing more than fleeting moments either. “My turn,” you said. “What’s got you sneaking around in the middle of the night, attempting murder on the British prime minister?” 

“That’s none of your business,” she said as if speaking to a child. She took another long drink, fingers twitching at her side as a nervous tic. “What’s got you sitting in his house playing body double?” Her voice had taken on a defensive edge.

“A friend,” you replied smoothly. “And money, of course. Turns out protecting politicians pays almost as well as stealing from them.” 

“Well I’m not a sellout.”

You narrowed your gaze. “No, you just slit throats because you’re told to, then.” Natalia furrowed her brow. “Unless you’re telling me you got bored and picked up a new hobby.” She stayed quiet, your words seemingly falling on deaf ears. “What?” You asked. Her lips were slightly parted. She stalked closer, eyes flickering over your face. “Hey, hey,” you stuttered, tripping over your feet as you backpedaled. 

You huffed as you slammed into the wall. She reached out, so close now you could feel her breath on your face. You froze, heart thundering in your chest. She cupped your cheek tenderly, thumb brushing your flaming skin. 

“Your eye,” she whispered as if it were something holy. 

You blinked, taken aback. “What?”

“It’s yellow. They weren’t different colors before.”

You broke out of her hold, forcing yourself not to run to the mirror on the wall. The frame was a golden oval, hung in between a family portrait and a pair of framed university degrees. Sure enough your right eye had slipped back. You blinked and it fixed itself, but the damage was done. 

“I should go,” you muttered, staring at the floor and beelining for the door. Too much alcohol and too little sleep and this was what you wound up with. 

Natalia snagged your wrist and held you from taking off. You knew if you pulled away she’d let you go. You untensed the muscles in your back and let her spin you around. 

You tilted your head down and met her in a slow kiss. She had you hooked and you didn’t care. You couldn’t think straight, the taste of her lips clouded your head like a powerful drug. 

You threaded your fingers through her hair and undid her braid while her hand wandered down to your belt. You pulled back, breathless. “I’m not looking for nothing here,” you insisted, even if only to try to convince yourself.

“Me neither,” she agreed. “One night.” She kissed your neck and a low grunt wound its way up from the back of your throat. “You’ll never have to see me again.”

You didn’t know why a pang wracked your chest still her words. That was the plan, after all. You knew you weren’t cut out for more than tonight. And with the way Natalia dragged her nails down your back, you guessed she wasn’t either.

“Bedroom,” you demanded, stepping out of your pants that now lay pooled around your ankles. You stumbled down the hall, blinded by her body as she lost her suit, and deafened by the way she panted your name between desperate kisses.

God, you were screwed.

—

You didn’t sleep, knowing you’d lose grip on your appearance if you did, but with each passing minute you found it harder and harder to stay awake. Natalia lay pressed into your side, so close that you could feel her heartbeat in your ribcage. Her body radiated heat, not the kind that made your face flush with infatuation, but the kind that felt like finally finding shelter after an eternity in the freezing rain. Her breaths wound in and out as if she were sleeping, but you knew she couldn’t. No. Someone who led her life had to be hardwired to never let their guard down.

Finally, after catching yourself almost dozing off for the tenth time you peeled back the covers and forced yourself to leave the confines of the mattress that seemed intent on sucking you back down. Goosebumps immediately rose along your skin, but you didn’t dare to glance back at bed and the woman feigning slumber. You stood and stretched, working the stiff muscles in your back and shoulders. Don’t look back. You followed the trail of hastily removed clothing down the dark hall and back to the study, candles still alight. 

You buckled your jeans and grabbed your bag, lingering by the door. Don’t go back. Hastily you rummaged through the desk drawers, finding a pen and pad of paper. You scribbled down the address of a PO box that you checked quarterly along with a note that read, For another one night. 

A/N

If you didn't catch it, R is a shapeshifter like Mystique from the X-Men. I wrote this piece with the intent of having it serve as the first chapter in a longer story. I wasn't certain of the amount of interest in a series though... I fear Tumblr may be drying up some.

Let me know if you'd like to see more and I can post up the second chapter, otherwise I'll leave it be as a one-shot.

As always, thanks for reading and just a reminder, my requests are open.

[aangelinakii]

PICTURES OF US

in which you and tangerine share a kiss without an umbrella

character : tangerine

song : pictures of us , beabadoobee

date : 17th june 2023

warnings : swearing

note : again,, so sorry for my hiatus !! 😭😭 but here i am <3<3

red flames flickered in the soft, chilling breeze, as your thumb clicked the flint of your lighter, setting the end of tangerine's cigarette ablaze.

smoke billowed around the two of you, its expensive scent filling your lungs, a cloak keeping you warm from the nipping chill of an autumn night in london.

for the past two weeks, your fiancé had been on a mission in paris, and you'd been left in your apartment to fend for yourself. i mean, of course you had visited friends and focused on your own job and hobbies, but whenever tangerine went on longer missions it was difficult to cope. that's why tonight, with him being back from paris for only a day, he'd treated you to dinner as a way to make up for his long absence.

now, bellies filled with the warm food from your favourite restaurant, the two of you walked arm in arm down the pavement, sky pitch, street dim.

cigarette settled between the index and middle fingers of his free hand, tangerine looked down at you, his piercing blue eyes darkened in the low lighting, turned into crescents with admiration.

"i don't know how many times i've told you tonight, but you look amazing," he smiled down at you, the arm linked with yours flexing to squeeze it. "no idea how i can stay so long away from you sometimes."

a soft laugh brushed past your lips, and you used your free hand to squeeze tangerine's bicep in return, muttering a small thank you.

for a moment you were quiet, taking in tangerine's musky cologne. "yeah," you began slowly, "it's difficult when it's just a couple days, but two weeks? you're kidding."

now it was tangerine's turn to laugh, taking another toke of his cigarette.

"i know, it's insane. i missed you like crazy this time. 'specially in paris, city of love and all. i should take you one time, when i don't have a job coming up."

your lips pulled up into a wistful grin. "paris? i'd love that."

just the thought of the couple of you strolling through the heart of paris at night, the dazzling eiffel tower peeking at you through a break between two townhouses, made you nostalgic of something that hadn't even happened yet. perhaps for your honeymoon?

"do you know where you're off to next?"

tangerine shrugged in response, exhaling more rich smoke. "lemon's handling it this time. he mentioned it on our way back, but i don't know much yet. i think somewhere in south america — bolivia? argentina? don't remember."

you only hummed back, acknowledging his response, but not asking any more as it was clear not even he knew that much.

as the two of you continued to stroll down the dark pavement, the few orange street lanterns highlighting your faces. matching in sync with your footsteps, raindrops pierced the grey concrete.

a drop landed square on tangerine's forehead, causing him to abruptly stop in his tracks. "shit!" he groaned. "if it starts shitting it down i'm gonna ruin this suit."

"hey, hey, don't worry about your suit," you spoke up, laughing all the while, the rain around you beginning to pick up in power and speed.

you removed your arm from out of tangerine's link, and moved to stand opposite him, placing your hands on each shoulder. "it's just rain, yeah? we can take it to the dry cleaner's tomorrow."

as he looked down at you, albeit droplets of rain rolling down his face, his expression softened. "i really don't wanna ruin my suit, love," he spoke, softer this time.

"dry cleaner's," you repeated, leaning closer, hands on his shoulders pressing down tighter.

opposite you, tangerine's face scrunched up, a mixture of defeat and exasperation. "god, you're impossible." with this, he inhaled from his cigarette and tried to push down his smile.

above you, dark clouds darkened the sky, if that were even possible, and the rain picked up pace. needless to say, tangerine's suit, and your overcoat, were going to the dry cleaner's tomorrow. tangerine's brown locks, which had previously been gelled back, were now spilling down his temples, weighed down by the rain.

the cigarette in his hand was of no use at this point, and he flicked it away.

"alright, love, d'you think we can keep walking now?" he asked, eyes squinting as he tried to see through the rain.

grin on your face, although rain-stricken, you shook your head. "no, let's stay for a bit. you're not in a rush, are you?"

"to get dry? yeah, kinda."

your hands on tangerine's shoulders moved up to his neck, pulling him towards yourself even more. the distance between you was closed, lips against lips.

warmth spread between the two of you, a high contrast to the striking rain falling down from the clouds above.

tangerine's larger hands took in your waist, pulling you further into him, trying to keep himself warm.

the kiss lasted a few moments, and when you pulled away, your eyes lingered closed, and your arms wrapped around tangerine's broad frame, encapsulating the two of you into the odd sensation of a warm embrace and a cold atmosphere.

your fiancé was back. in your arms. in the rain.

"my love?" his voice a ghost in your ear. you hummed in return. "paris isn't as cold as london, d'you think we can head home now?"

eyes halved into crescents as you pull out of your embrace, you looked up at tangerine with a half-laugh. "yes, oh my god, i'm so cold."

[lesserafim-eden]

( ♡ ) ... 🏹 ⁀ EDEN’S PROFILE ࿐ !

𓆩 𓆪  ࣪˖﹫𓂃⌁. ࣪˖ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐀𝐃𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐀𝐃𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐓  𓂃𑁍 ࣪˖ ›

𓂃  ✷ ˒  𝙸𝙽𝚃𝚁𝙾𝙳𝚄𝙲𝙸𝙽𝙶 !  𓄹╴EDEN NOELIA LEE

꣑୧ 𓈒 ۫ caught in some traffic, but the radio is blasting 𓂋 💿 ۪

───────────────

___.れレ: : GET TO KNOW HER.____

___.れレ: :- BASIC INFORMATION .____

___.れレ: BIRTH NAME: Eden Noelia Lee

___. れレ: KOREAN NAME: Lee Binna

___. れレ: HANGUL: 이빈나

___. れレ: CHINESE NAME: Zhao Meixing

___. れレ: NAME MEANING: The name Eden means "place of pleasure and delight." Binna 비나 This name means “to shine” in Korean. The Chinese name Mei-Xing means “beautiful star”.

___. れレ: NICKNAMES: Dance Queen, International Playgirl, Global ambassadors (as she is the brand ambassador for many brands), Rich girl style, Sold out Queen, Elegant beauty, nation's heartbreaker, 'SM/HYBEs Ace, China's IT girl, Social butterfly (as she friends with everyone) ( used by her fans ).

___. れレ: BIRTHDAY: November 11, 2001

___. れレ: ZODIAC: Leo

___. れレ: BIRTHPLACE: London, UK

___. れレ: AGE: 21 years old ( Korean age ) 20 years old (int.)

___. れレ: NATIONALITY: English

___. れレ: ETHNICITY: Chinese/South Korean

___. れレ: WEIGHT: 49kg (100lbs)

___. れレ: HEIGHT: 5'8" (173 cm)

___. れレ: BLOOD TYPE: AB

___. れレ: REPRESENTATIVE EMOJI: 🐨 ( koala  )

___. れレ: VOCAL(s) CLAIM: Hoody ; BiBi ; Saay ; Nessa Barret ; Silly Silky

___. れレ: RAP VOCAL(s): Kim Jennie ; Yezi

___. れレ: DANCE CLAIM: Mina Young (1 Million Dance)

___. れレ: GENDER: female

___. れレ: PRONOUN(s): she // her

___. れレ: BODY MODIFICATION(s): 12 ear piercings (6 on her left ear, 6 on right ear ) + 5 tattoos, 2 belly button piercing

___. れレ: LANGUAGES SPOKEN: English ( First language ), Mandarin ( Second Language), Korean ( Third language), French ( learned ), Italian ( learned/ Fluent ) Japanese ( learned/ Fluent ).

───────────────

___.れレ: : GET TO KNOW HER.____

___.れレ: :- CAREER INFORMATION.____

___.れレ: STAGE NAME: Eden ( 이든; since 2018 ) or Eden Noelia Lee ( since 2022-present )

___.れレ: GROUP(s): IZ*ONE ( 아이즈원 ; 2018-2021 ) LE SSERAFIM ( 르 세라핌 ; 2022-present )

___.れレ: OFFICIAL POSITION(s): Main dancer, Vocalist, Rapper, Visual ( IZ*ONE ) Main dancer, Main rapper, Vocalist, Visual, center ( LE SSERAFIM )

___.れレ: COMPANIES: SM Entertainment (2015-2021), Source Music/ HYBE Label ( 2022-present )

___.れレ: OCCUPATION(s): Singer, Rapper, Actress, Model, Songwriter, Global Ambassador, Voice Actress

___.れレ: DEBUT DATE(s): October 29, 2018 ( IZ*ONE ) May 2, 2022 ( LE SSERAFIM )

___.れレ: DEBUT AGE(s): 15 (Int.) 16 (Kor; IZ*ONE ) 19 (Int.) 20 (Kor; LE SSERAFIM )

___.れレ: YEARS ACTIVE: 2018–present

___.れレ: TRAINEE YEAR(S): 3 years

___.れレ: DOMESTIC POPULARITY: South Korea 95% ; China 100% ; United Kingdom 100% ; Japan 100%

___.れレ: DOMESTIC LOVE: South Korea 89% ; China 100% ; United Kingdom 100% ; Japan 100%

___.れレ: DOMESTIC HATE: South Korea ; 80% China 10% ; United Kingdom 2% ; Japan 20%

___.れレ: DOMESTIC OPINION(s): South Korea ; Eden was exposed to the South Korean public before she debut as part of SM Rookies. When she finally debuted as a member of IZ*ONE, people adored and loved her. They loved her stage presence, one of a kind beauty, and talents. Over time, she garnered some antis and the public didn’t hold her in as high regard as they used. She became too ‘problematic’ for the South Korean public with her scandals, proactive actions, fashion, and her ‘attitude’.

China ; Eden built a reputation for herself in China and became a very popular, and loved idol. The Chinese people love her and are obsessed with her. If anything and anyone threatens her and her safety, you know a Chinese fan will be there to protect her. Badmouthing her is an unspoken do not rule. Eden is very popular amongst high schoolers and many girls idolize & love her and are inspired by her attitude and fashion sense. Eden is a popular name that comes up when talking about celebrity crushes and her beauty and talent are greatly admired. Chinese fans often get into fights with Korean fans over whether Eden is considered a Chinese or South Korean singer.

Japan ; the Japanese people quickly fall in love with Eden during her produce 48 days as she would help the Japanese trainees with choreography, and teach them Korean. The hardest mission in the world is to find a Japanese kpop fan to say bad things about Eden. She is an absolute sweetheart and loved by the public of Japan.

United Kingdom ; When first people heard about an English girl was going to debut in a kpop, they were surprised. But now, Eden alone is more popular in the UK than any other kpop groups and people describe her as a lovely, talented and beautiful girl. Through her rapidly growing popularity, she is even put on par with the British royal family.

___.れレ: INTERNATIONAL POPULARITY: 100%

___.れレ: INTERNATIONAL LOVE: 97%

___.れレ: INTERNATIONAL HATE: 70%

___.れレ: INTERNATIONAL OPINION(s): it’s spilt down the middle & there’s no in-between. You either absolutely love her and adore her or you hate Eden with all the living cells in your body. People love her while others love to nitpick every single thing she does and says. She is very popular. If you go to the street and ask people if they know her or have heard of her name, 80% of the people will say yes.

___.れレ: SEARCHES: 98,876,799,567

___.れレ: KNOWN FOR: Her iconic Performance on Produce 48 covering Britney Spears "baby one more time" Duality, her fancams going viral every time, brand endorsements, small waist, deep voice, good at video games, insane visuals, being the ultimate It girl of her generation, coming from a rich family, going to one of the most expensive schools in the world ; Institut auf dem Rosenberg, amazing fashion senses, dating rumors with half of the 4th generation kpop male idols, very long legs, stage presence, deep British accent, iconic long blonde hair, songwriter, musically gifted, 90-degree shoulders, being photogenic, top model material, everyone’s crush, dancing skills, painting and drawing, sell out power, resemblance to a Disney princess, being hate on for releasing more than her members, her aesthetic pleasingly instagram account, her nail art, almost being apart of Aespa, her close friendship with Nct dream members, IVE’s Wonyoung & Yujin, Aespa’s Karina & Itzy’s Chaeryeong, her rumor, having a high IQ, her being very social and knowing a lot of idols/celebrities, just her.

___.れレ: RESPECT: 94% ; with all of her accomplishments and legacy at a such young age, she knows she deserves it

___.れレ: SKILLS RANKING:

•vocals ability : 8/10

•rap ability : 10/10

•dance ability: 10/10

•visuals: 10/10 ( Korean Standard )

•Stage presence: 10/10

•producing ; song writing ; composing: 9/10

•choreographing: 7/10

•public speaking: 8/10

• Variety show: 9/10

___.れレ: SIGNATURE(s):

«For fans»

«Business»

___.れレ: INDIVIDUAL FANDOM NAME: Prodigies

___.れレ: SOLO DISCOGRAPHY:

•BTBT ; released on May 13, 2022 along with Soulja Boy & B.I

•dying on the inside ; released on July 23, 2022

•hell is teenage girl ; released on September 06, 2022

•No name ; released on November 11, 2022

•Blame ; released on April 24, 2023

•Breathin ; released on June 1, 2023

•Don’t know me ; released on July 23, 2023

•I’m yours ; released on August 01, 2023

•Boyfriend ; released on October 30, 2023

___.れレ: INSTAGRAM: @/ gardenofeden ( personal 46m followers ; 17 following, 330 posts ; E2N2L private account: 77 followers & 50 following )

___.れレ: YOUTUBE: @/VlogswithEDEN (8.9m subscribers, 45 videos )

___.れレ: TWITTER: @/ imnoteden ( private account 23 followers & 1 following, 1,765 tweets )

___.れレ: TIKTOK: @/ justforfun ( private account 12 followers & 4 following, 0 videos )

___.れレ: PHYSICAL: diamond shaped face, tall, lateral flare eyes, hazel green cat eyes, small nose, pouty lips, full eyebrows, pear-shaped body, clear skins, long limbs.

___.れレ: PERSONALITY: ESFP {Entertainer} If anyone is to be found spontaneously breaking into song and dance, it is the Entertainer personality type. Entertainers get caught up in the excitement of the moment, and want everyone else to feel that way, too. No other personality type is as generous with their time and energy as Entertainers when it comes to encouraging others, and no other personality type does it with such irresistible style.

___.れレ: STRENGTHS:

«Bold»– Entertainers aren't known for holding back. Wanting to experience everything there is to experience, people with the Entertainer personality type don't mind stepping out of their comfort zones when no one else is willing.

«Outgoing»– More so than things though, Entertainers love to pay attention to people. They are talkative, witty, and almost never run out of things to discuss. For people with this personality type, happiness and satisfaction stem from the time they spend with the people they enjoy being with.

«Performer»— Not stopping at mere outfits, Entertainers inject artistic creativity into their words and actions, too. Every day is a performance, and Entertainers love to put on a show.

___.れレ: WEAKNESS:

«Sensitive » Entertainers (especially Turbulent ones) are strongly emotional, and very vulnerable to criticism – they can feel like they've been backed into a corner, sometimes reacting badly. This is probably Entertainers' greatest weakness, because it makes it so hard to address any other weaknesses brought to light.

«Easily bored » Without constant excitement, Entertainers find ways to create it themselves. Risky behavior, self-indulgence, and the pleasures of the moment over long-term plans are all things Entertainers get into a little too often.

«Conflict-Averse» Entertainers sometimes ignore and avoid conflict entirely. They tend to say and do what's needed to get out of such situations, then move on to something more fun.

___.れレ: RELATIONSHIP STATUS: taken (unknown to the public) since 2022

___.れレ: SEXUALITY: straight

___.れレ: CONFIDENCE: Eden is a very confident person, especially with her look (you can tell that whenever she is on stage).

___.れレ: FLEXIBILITY: Eden is a very flexible person as she does yoga with her best friend Bella. She can concentrate on many things at once, you disturb her, she goes into flames.

___.れレ: ADAPTABILITY: Eden can adapt to many things.

___.れレ: HOBBIES + SKILLS: learning new languages, baking, drawing or painting, free style dancing, playing multiple instruments, modeling, voice acting, makeup, reading, and making everyone hot and bothered, giving massages to the members when they feeling down.

___.れレ: HABITS: Eating and laughing too much, saying "ah" and "yah"a lot, spacing out when thinking about things, clapping, bouncing, or randomly dancing when she feels excited, sitting in a many ways, pouting when she's sad, getting scared easily, tendency to say what comes to her mind, sarcastic comments, impulsive shopping, tapping her feet when nervous, when uncomfortable she touches her collarbone a lot, working out to relieve her stress, playing with the ends of her hair, sleeping with a large number of blankets, pillows, and plushies.

___.れレ: DISLIKES: Mean people,invasion of privacy, rude/ sasaengs fans, fat shaming, diets, entitled people, fireworks or loud sounds,antis, racism, homophobia, being yelled at, overworking herself, rumors, stalkers, people talking about her family, judging people without hearing their side of the story, Seafood, sleeping without more than two blankets and pillows.

___.れレ: LIKES: makeup,choreographing, photography, painting, playing video games, fashion, snowboarding, watching murder investigations, playing video games, cuddling with special person, feeling powerful/sexy while performing, blinks, Pilates, fairs, flirting with her boyfriend, raping, singing, horror movies, comedy, massages, butts, trying new things, watching anime (mostly seven deadly sins), and Polaroids.

___.れレ: FAVORITE COLOR(s): Baby pink 'cream' purple and teal.

___.れレ: FAVORITE FOOD(s): Tangerines, apples, chimaek, samgyeopsal, instant noodles, avocados, smoothies, Pizza, chicken, blueberry muffins, French fries, mangoes, watermelon, avocados, jjampong, bibimbap, kimchi fried-rice, sushi, any type of cakes.

___.れレ: PHOBIA(s): phonophobia (fear of loud noises), Coulrophobia (fear of clowns), Monophobia (fear of being alone), Entomophobia (fear of bugs), fear of losing her loved ones.

___.れレ: STRUGGLE(s): her fear of bugs, being away from family, not eating enough, dealing with anxiety, feeling insecure about herself, finding hard to control her rest bitch face.

___.れレ: BAD HABIT(s): staying up late, cracking her bones.

___.れレ: FAMOUS CLOSE FRIEND(s): all of ( ITZY ) all of ( Aespa ), all of (G)I-DLE ) Jay & Jake ( ENHYPEN ), Minji & Danielle ( New Jeans ), Jaehyun ( BOYNEXTDOOR ), Yiren ( EVERGLOW ) Gaeul, Yujin, & Wonyoung ( IVE ), Haewon & Lily ( NMIXX ), Hyunjin, seungmin, & Bangchan ( Stray kids ), Shin Eunsoo, Lee Yeon, Jung Dabin, Seol In-ah, & Park Jihu ( Actresses ), Chaeyeon, Eunbi, Yena, Yuri, BiBi ( soloists ), Minhee, Wonjin, Hyeongjun ( GRAVITY ), Hanbin & Jeonghyeon ( Evnne ), Nako, Minju, Haewon ( actresses ), Hitomi ( AKB48 ), Seungkwan & Dino ( Seventeen ), Matthew & Gunwook ( ZEROBASEONE ), Isa & Sieun ( STAYC ), Xiaoting, Hikaru, & Huening Bahiyyih ( Kep1er ), all of ( NCT DREAM ), Choi Hyun-Wook, Park Jihoon, Ryeoun ( Actors )

___.れレ: IDEAL TYPE: Someone who can match her energy, Someone who treats her like the only girl in the world. Someone that she can easily be herself around him. Someone who makes her laugh. Someone who is at least 178cm tall. Someone who seems cold on the outside, but super soft on the inside. Someone she is visually attracted to.

[lilac-ravenclaw]

Hello and welcome! Let me introduce my Hogwarts Legacy MC, Raven Fawlty. I love her so much and want to share her adventures with everyone.🪻

• May I draw Raven?

Yes, please! Just please tag me with your drawing. In return I’ll draw your Hogwarts MC! 👩🏻‍🎨✨

Instagram | DeviantArt | ArtStation

✨ artof.ravnbee on Ko-Fi ✨ Thank you!

The Picnic 🧺 - 3k words / fluff

More to come! ✍🏽

If anyone is interested, I created a playlist on Spotify. Music that reminds me of my MC and her personality, things she's going through, or her relationship with Sebastian. I'll continue to add songs as time goes on. Hope you enjoy!

🎧 Spotify Link 🎧

General Info

Name: Raven Fawlty - { reason for her name for me } “Ravens” often represents ancient wisdom, transformation and intelligence. The name “Raven” means “dark haired or wise”. “Fawlty”… honestly this was a gimmick at first. As I love the show, Fawlty Towers with John Cleese. Ran in the mid-late 70s with only 12 episodes, and was hilarious imo. it was the first name I could think of when creating my character.

Birthday: January 29, 1874 { The Raven was published in Jan 29, 1845 }

Zodiac Sign: Aquarius

Sex/Gender: Female { she/her }

Ethnicity: Latina and English

House: Ravenclaw

Wand:

Stalk: Dark Brown

Wood type: Willow

Core type: Unicorn Hair

Flexibility: Reasonably Supply

Wand Length: 12”

Handle: Checkerboard - Blue

Patronus: Black Bear

The Black Bear is known for their adaptability and resourcefulness. Others will see her as a fierce opponent who will protect herself and those close to her. Only those close to her will know of that softer side she usually keeps hidden away.

Physical Appearance

Eye color: Light Violet

Skin color: Tan/light brown, with olive undertones.

Hair: Long length and black, usually worn in a braid.

Height: 5’1” (155cm)

Weight: 110lbs (49kg)

Body type: Hourglass and petite

Birthmarks: small mole on the face, left cheek

Fashion style: Loves wearing a comfortable trouser, but will still wear a button up blouse and a skirt. Doesn’t care for the traditional school robe, but favors a nice blazer/jacket when needed.

Accessories: Pierced ears for small earrings, (wears a pair of snake gold snake earrings Sebastian gave to her as a birthday gift).

History

Place of birth: Somewhere in the UK

Childhood: Grew up in orphanage in London. Doesn’t know who her parents are, or her real name. She has a love for literature and took the name “Raven” after Edgar Allen Poe’s poem, The Raven. The orphanage she resided in was very strict and had a harsh living environment. The caretaker was mean to the children, much like a Miss Hannigan from the show Annie. So much so, that is how Raven acquired her last name “Fawlty”. A homonym for “faulty”, meaning of faults, inadequate, or wrong. (Which is also why the show, Fawlty Towers, got its name too.) Unknowingly to be a future Ravenclaw, took the insult of a name as a challenge to succeed and learn all she could and be the best version of herself.

Family history: Her father originally from South America and went to Castelobruxo, a wizarding school in Brazil. Being from the heart of the Amazon rain forest, he had a profound love for magical creatures. Which is where Raven gets her love for magical creatures as well. He had traveled all over the world and eventually made his way to Europe where he met Raven’s mother, was also traveling abroad as well. She had also attending Hogwarts in her youth, being a former Ravenclaw too. She loved astronomy, and music literature (her mother, Raven's grandmother, was a music instructor). It is unknown what happened to her parents in their untimely death, and how Raven ended up at the orphanage. **Keep in mind, Raven herself doesn’t know this. I just wanted to write this down to know where she gets her personality and interests come from ☺️**

Notable events/milestones: Raven always knew somehow.. she was different. Though, according to the wizarding world’s standards, it took a little longer for her powers to emerge. Even small things would happen here and there, without her realizing what had happen and that she was the cause of such strange occurrences. Until one day when the orphan keeper (the person who runs the orphanage) was “disciplining” one of the children and Raven stepped in to protect them and that enough was enough. She had forced a large shelf to fall over onto the orphan keeper… it was as if what she was thinking became a reality. Afraid of what would happen, Raven ran away, seeking shelter where she could. As Professor Fig was assigned the task of giving Raven her letter and bringing her to Hogwarts, it still took no time at all for Professor Fig to find Raven even though she was missing from the orphanage. She was hesitant at first but overall wasn’t scared at all, and actually was relieved to know there were others like her. A whole world like her just waiting to be apart of and that was the happiest day in her life.

Other notes: She had studied with Professor Fig for the duration of the summer before starting at Hogwarts. Having only gained her powers after the school year had finished. He had become the first father figure to Raven.

Psychological Traits

Personality type: INFP (Mediator) is a personality type with the introverted, intuitive, feeling and prospecting traits. These rare personality types tend to be quiet, open-minded, and imaginative, and they apply a caring and creative approach to everything they do.

Personality traits: intelligent, witty, adventurous, warm, courageous, emotionally intuitive, and quick-thinker.

Introvert/Extrovert: Sometimes both. Loves to be around her close friends, but doesn’t mind spending time alone reading a good book or flying on her broom.

Hobbies: Star-gazing, tending to the magical beasts in the Vivarium, reading, and singing. Doesn’t audition for the school choir til her 6th year. She doesn’t tell anyone except Poppy if she should try out, as Raven was 100% nervous about it and never sang in front of people.

Loves: Flying on her broom and singing in the choir.

Morals/Virtues: Values being compassionate and always being there for her friends/loved ones at a moment’s notice. Tries to do right by them and stand by their side when times are tough. She knows what it feels like to be alone in certain situations and doesn’t want her friends to go through the same thing.

Phobias/Fears: Being trapped in a “cage” and being forgotten.

Relationships

Love Interest: Sebastian Sallow… From the very beginning she felt like there was some sort of connection, but was a bit too oblivious to see it at first. He’s very charming and almost flirtatious with other girls, so figured she wasn’t any different. Sometimes she will catch him sneaking a glance in her direction during class, while studying in the Library or at mealtimes in the Great Hall. It was so easy to stand by him and help him find a cure for his sister without even a second thought. It may have been foolish, but Raven knows what it’s like to have no support when at your lowest. To feel like all hope is lost. She can understand losing your parents at a young age.

Parents: Deceased, Names Unknown

Grandparents: Unknown, Names Unknown

Best friends: Poppy Sweeting and Natsai Onai

Friends: Ominis Gaunt, Garreth Weasley, Amit Thakker, and Imelda Reyes

Rivals: Leander Prewett, not in a bad way. It's mostly a friendly competition when playing Summoner's Court.

Enemies: Peeves the Poltergeist, damn him for catching them in the Library!

Clubs: Crossed Wands, Summoner’s Court, and Hogwart's Glee Club ( was super hesitant in trying out for the school's choir, but her best friend Poppy gave her the confidence she needed to try out).

If you’ve made it this far then thank you so much for reading. Hope you enjoyed learning about my MC✨

[scotianostra]

September 11th 1297 saw the Battle of Stirling Bridge.

If you follow my history posts through the years you will know I try to change them around, rather post the same old thing every year, in this post I will concentrate a wee bit more on the man usually forgotten, Andrew de Moray and his struggle in the North.

Andrew de Moray had been captured after fighting for King John at the Battle of Dunbar but had escaped only to find his family’s lands in Avoch on the Black Isle under English control.

There can be no doubt that de Moray got his patriotism and fighting zeal from his father, also called Andrew de Moray, and also captured at Dunbar he was incarcerated in the Tower of London, where he died in 1298.

The young de Moray was imprisoned in Chester and promptly escaped and made his way back to the highlands and the family seat, Avoch Castle near Inverness.

He is sometimes portrayed as Wallace’s lieutenant but Moray was entirely his own man and a very capable leader in his own righ

The English having travelled as far as Elgin at one stage, were beaten back by de Moray and his rag-tag bunch of local freedom fighters. The northern troops’ activities mirrored much of what was going on in the south, with guerrilla tactics widely used to unsettle Edward’s army and score small but psychologically significant victories. So for every small victory against the English in the South for Wallace, Moray matched it in the Highlands.

The uprising gathered pace and it was in the early months of 1297 that Wallace and de Moray were said to have met, although historical documents of the period are imprecise. The meeting apparently took place in Perth, where both armies met to expel the English occupiers and create a base for an attack to liberate Dundee.

Wallace, at this stage, is said to have returned south with his army and the preparations for the battle at Stirling began. De Moray, held in high regard by Wallace and, according to some, the senior partner of the two, is credited with creating the tactical plan that won the day for the Scots.

Unfortunately Andrew was fatally injured at Stirling, when a stray arrow is said to have pierced him and, after a month or so it finally took his life. The Scots would go on to some heavy defeats in the future and, it is argued, were unable to function as well without the tactics de Moray brought to what was, in effect, a peasants’ revolt.

De Moray’s son, also called Andrew, followed in the family tradition and rallied behind Robert the Bruce, even marrying his sister, Christina, at one stage.

Both Wallace an Moray were conferred with the title of ‘leader of the army of the realm of Scotland’ and both received Knighthoods at roughly the same time – suggesting that, during the period they were held in equal regard.

Both men co-signed a letter to the mayors of Lubeck and Hamburg asking for trade routes with Scotland to be re-opened with, interestingly, de Moray’s name above that of his more celebrated colleague.

Where Wallace has, like so many other Scots historical figures, been romanticised; his story pulled to the boundaries of what is actually true in print, poem, song and more recently Hollywood, it is no surprise that de Moray, who shamefully, failed to get a single mention in the Mel Gibson film, I won’t go into all the historical inaccuracies in Braveheart, but the main two in the winning battle sequence at Stirling were blatantly obvious, they failed to include a bridge in the battle scenes and also put a schiltron scene at the battle of Stirling when it should have been at the Falkirk Battle.

[ptseti]

Paul Pierce said he didn’t think anyone from the South Sudan basketball team is over 6’3”. SOUTH SUDAN!!! As in South Sudan, the home of Manute Bol, who was 7’7” and one of the tallest NBA players ever? South Sudan which is also known for being home to some of the tallest people in the world. Ignorance is truly bliss, and indeed, not all skinfolk is kinfolk. The Olympic debutants, South Sudan , the youngest country in the world, founded in 2011 have pushed the USA to the edge with a 101-100 victory in a friendly game in London, ahead of the Paris 2024 Games. Shout out to @luoldeng9 and @ssbfed! We’re rooting for you!! You represented Africa well!! See you in Paris! South Sudan Oyeee 🇸🇸

If I were to comment on that 💩💩Paul Pierce Tumblr will ban me. FVCK PAUL PIERCE