in the city.

𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑠𝑜𝑛 𝑜𝑓 𝑎 𝑏𝑖𝑡𝑐ℎ.

[geaesaekki]

meet MARITZA, SELENA, DEVORA, women wearing their scars and their rage in the city, with pride. a life lulled by desire for violence and victory, along with the obsession to make a change in their fates and stories. tales of social raises and battles in the injustice of a society made of rules awaiting to get broken. 𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 𝐤𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐦𝐚 𝐮𝐧𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐬 𝐬𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐚𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐥'𝐬 𝐣𝐮𝐝𝐠𝐞, 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐤 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥.

RULES. CARRD. THEQUE. ROLL. OPENS. WISHLIST. TRACKER.

[geaesaekki]

Hiatus !

[geaesaekki]

Selena exhales a slow stream of smoke, eyes narrowing as Birdie talks. Selena’s seen it before, young ones on the run from something too big to name and usually too big for them to carry on their own. “Bus boy?” Selena snorts softly, though there’s no real mockery in it. Just the weight of knowing. “This ain’t the kind of place with staff like that, sweetheart, even if sometimes I wish. Can you imagine? Like a nice luxury hotel where we can just drive customers around and use the jacuzzi when nobody's looking." She jokes. "Trust me, you don’t want the boss’s work. I barely want the boss’s work, sometimes too.” Her gaze flickers over Birdie, it's a soft, warmer gaze she has. "Baby you're such a pretty girl... If you ask the boss for some work, I'm afraid he will assign you to get clients and all that. I mean the money is good but sometimes the things you have to do for them, it's not pretty, it takes a piece of your soul. You don't want that, no?" She sighs. But when Birdie says she just needs to keep her head down, Selena stills. Her fingers tighten briefly around the cigarette before she taps the ash away keeping her voice even. “Alright,” she says finally. “I get it. I won't be asking what you did, like I said. But laying low doesn’t mean laying down... So, if you really want to work here, I can try and put in a good word for something decent like, working at the bar? Do you know how to serve a drink?"

[geaesaekki]

It’s the type of life Selena can’t seem to escape. Back in Korea, at least she worked at the club, a place that felt like home, where family wasn’t about blood but survival. They watched out for each other. An annoying client, a pressuring man, and someone would step in, telling them to back off. Here in America, it’s different. She wasn’t supposed to be an escort girl again. She came here to succeed, to finally make it as an actress after being contacted by this man who promised her fame and wonders. But no, nothing. It always comes back to this—dirty corners of the city, degrading stares, and a life she doesn't want anymore. She ended up having clients here too in the end, the regulars who keep her afloat. A few working girls she swaps tips with, just to get through the day. But it’s thin... fragile. Tonight, though, she’s supposed to be off. She’s changed into something less revealing, just wanting to blend in, to step out of her role for one night. But it doesn’t matter : the streets don’t care, and neither do the drunks. “How much?” one of them slurs, his words hitting like a slap. The question hangs in the air, heavy and familiar, as degrading as it is predictable. Selena clenches her jaw. She’s off work, but they don’t care. An escort girl always looks like one, doesn’t she? She’s cornered, trying to brush them off without making it worse, but they don’t listen. It’s like her words don’t exist. And then, as if her silent prayers are answered, a man steps in. He doesn’t say much, just enough to stand in between her and them. His presence shifts the energy immediately. The drunks falter, crumbling under the weight of someone who clearly isn’t going to tolerate their bullshit. Selena exhales, the tension in her chest loosening just enough for her voice to steady. “They haven’t harmed me, sir,” she says, her words calm but sharp enough. “But I’m not going anywhere with them. I’ve been saying that, haven’t I, gentlemen?” The drunks exchange uneasy glances, muttering under their breath. They abandon their beers, grumbling about how it’s “not worth it”, "whore", and “whatever,” as though she’s the one who’s wronged them. They stumble off, their retreat as messy as their approach. Finally, it’s safe again. Selena lets out a long breath, her shoulders dropping as the relief settles in. Her eyes find the man who stepped in. He’s older, muscular, his calm presence carrying more weight than any threat could. She knows the type. He doesn’t just look intimidating—he is. If it came down to a fight, those drunks wouldn’t have stood a chance. “Thank you so much for what you just did for me,” she says, her voice soft but steady. “If it wasn’t for you, they wouldn’t have let me be you know? No matter what I said, it was like they didn’t even hear me. No respect, no—” She stops herself, shaking her head, her frustration giving way to exhaustion. She takes a moment to study him, her lips curving into a small smile. “Can I like… offer you a drink to thank you?” The question comes out almost cautiously, though her tone stays light. “I mean, it’s the least I can do to thank you, yeah?" It’s a simple offer, but in this moment, it feels like more.

[geaesaekki]

Selena's fingers slide up his tie, giving it a gentle tug as she leans in just enough to catch his attention, her lips curving into a playful smile. “Well... I think I will skip on inviting the girls,” she says, voice light and teasing. A part of her winces at the thought of them : her old life, her old problems, her dirty clients of the past, the world she’s stepping out of. No, not today. She is busy being someone new, someone important who requested her and only her. “They are very very busy women you know? I’ll spoil them next time,” she adds with a laugh, as if it were a joke only she understood.

Her thumb runs over the edge of the black card he’s handed her, and it sends a thrill through her. This is real : he's real, and this life, though it doesn’t quite fit her yet, could be hers right? As long as he requests her services. Usually it is the client who buys the fantasy and she is willing to do absolutely everything to offer it to him, however... The dangerous edge here is that she also is living a dream that is too good to be true, it's Her fantasy as well. She gazes up at him, her eyes sparkling with the thrill of it all. Oh and he’s so… magnetic. His presence fills the room in a way that pulls her in, and she’s more than happy to be caught. He’s not just a man; he’s The man. The man in charge, the man with a name, a reputation, a business, a story. His big house, his effortless wealth, the way he wears power like it’s stitched into his coat : it’s all so much. Her voice drops, playful but laced with something more personal as she taps the card lightly against his chest. “I think I’ll pick out some pretty clothes just for myself,” she muses, eyes bright with a mischievous glint. “In your favorite colors, of course. Light green? Or maybe a beautiful white on my skin?” She pauses, tilting her head slightly, her tone growing more curious. “I have noticed, Handsome, you look at me a little longer when I wear those. Why is that? Do I look better in them?” She is flirting but she also is very serious about her question. Men like him have specific taste and expectations she knows, and so she pays attention, to the way he wants her to be, the way he wants her to act. For the disgusting men at the Red Line she usually just has to show some cleavage : they are easy and cheap but him... It's obvious he wants something special. Every question, every step she takes is to test his reactions, she notes it down and makes sure to shape her persona accordingly. Her mini skirts and velvet sexy dresses aren't what he's looking for, he's a man with class, she has to elevate herself to the type of woman he could have dated or married, that type of thinking. Her fingers trail down his tie as she steps back just enough to give herself room to think, letting the card spin between her fingers. Then, she grins—bigger this time, bright and warm, she has an idea. “Actually,” she says, voice lilting with excitement, “why don’t you come with me? We’ll make an afternoon of it. You can tell me which colors you think suit me best, yes?" The suggestion feels bold since he probably has better things to do such as running an empire and all that, but she also thinks it could do him some good. "If you don't have any important appointments of course you Important Man," In a way it's also an invitation for him to step out of whatever cold, distant world he’s wrapped himself in and meet her somewhere closer to the sun. That aura of his, powerful, it also comes with a certain gloom, a certain loneliness that lives in his eyes. What has he been through? Often, she wonders. "Please say yes? Come on say yes, we will have so much fun!"

[weifeili95]

brutalism in skopje, north macedonia

[geaesaekki]

𝑯𝑶𝑾 𝑫𝑶𝑬𝑺 𝒀𝑶𝑼𝑹 𝑴𝑼𝑺𝑬 𝑭𝑰𝑮𝑯𝑻? bold what applies, italicise for what applies only sometimes.

• fights honourably / fights dirty • prefers close - quarters / prefers range • chats during / goes silent • low pain tolerance / high pain tolerance • attacks in bursts / attacks steadily • goes for the kill / aims to disarm / fights defensively / strikes first • is provoked easily / provokes their opponent / teases • gets visibly frustrated / shouts while attacking • uses strategy / focuses on the battle / experiences conflicting thoughts during battle / rushes in recklessly / tries to read their opponent before engaging • fights wildly / fights calmly / fights apathetically / fights with anger / fights with excitement • fights because they have to / fights because they want to • fights without regard to wounds / runs away when wounded / hides wounds / takes a blow to protect another • prefers a blade / prefers a gun / prefers hand to hand combat / prefers a bow / prefers a shield / prefers a personalized weapon / prefers magic, alchemy or spells • their greatest weakness is physical / their greatest weakness is mental / their greatest weakness is emotional • transforms for battle / fights as they appear • relies on strength / doubts their strength / relies on speed • uses everything they have / proceeds with caution / hides their full potential / exhausts quickly / has high stamina • behaves arrogantly / brags after landing a hit / belittles their abilities • uses psychological tactics / uses brute strength • avoids civilians / strikes down civilians • damages surroundings / ( tries to ) avoid damaging surroundings • signature fighting style / makes it up as they go • mastered skill - set / learning their skill - set • fancy footwork / sloppy footwork • messy fighter / elegant fighter • accepts defeat / refuses defeat / begs for mercy • compliments their opponent / insults their opponent • uses unnecessary movements / moves efficiently / barely moves • prefers to dodge / prefers to block • defends their blindside / has no blindside / leaves blindsides vulnerable • uses all or most available advantages / strictly uses one main method • plays around / holds back / fights ruthlessly / shows mercy • waits for an opponent to be ready / strikes when opponent isn’t ready • fears death / fears pain / fears killing / fears abandonment • has ptsd / avoids fighting • has lost a fight / has won a fight • has killed / refuses to kill • wants to die standing / would succumb slowly

tagged by : @interxstitial (heyy thank you!) tagging : anybody

[geaesaekki]

  maritza, midnight.

[geaesaekki]

It’s the way he takes her hand, lifting it to his lips for a customary kiss that catches her off guard. The kind of surprise she actually welcomes. A gentleman’s gesture—could the gods of nightlife finally be answering her prayers? Unlike the typical patrons who seek only fleeting pleasure and ego boosts, showing little regard for the women they encounter, this hand kiss signifies care, refinement, and charm. Her smile is the perfect response to that. As he mentions not wanting to make his partner wait, she glances over her shoulder, suppressing a laugh. His associate, deep into bottles and distractions, is thoroughly enjoying himself. She turns her attention back to the Feng heir. “That’s very thoughtful of you, Sir,” she begins, stepping forward to lead him. “We wouldn’t want him getting impatient, would we?” The humor in her tone reflects the associate's current state, even though she tries not to be too obvious about it, in case Mister Feng, him, desires to focus on business. Indeed, erhaps the Feng heir is here for business, but when he calls her beautiful, she genuinely appreciates it. “Thank you, Sir,” she replies with a warm smile, “for a beautiful man to call me beautiful.” She starts walking, guiding him through the club. “The Red Line is here to fulfill all your desires tonight,” she says, gesturing to the stage where dancers move sensually and men sit captivated in the booths. “Our bar offers a wide array of elixirs—just let me know what you desire, and I’ll make sure your glass is never empty.” As they reach a large table where her associate and his entourage are gathered, she awaits for him to sit first before taking her place beside him. “As for my name,” she says with a smile, “I am Selena.” Though her real name is Sena, Selena is her escort persona. “Like the goddess of the moon, I’ll do my best to light up your night.” Turning to the group, she introduces him with a flourish. “Everyone, say hello to Mister Feng.” The girls offer their greetings, and the evening unfolds with promise. Oh she just knows the other girls are jealous the minute they land their eyes on him, he's too handsome, isn't he? She needs to stay focused though. "Mm anything you wish to start the night with, Sir? Even if the table is having champagne, I have my personal favorites we can share together... Something a little more special and unique." She teases. It is in her personality to do so, Selena is a tease, she's playful somethinng a little light about her, her words, her smiling doe eyes. "Want a taste, are you in for the experience?"

[geaesaekki]

"Ugh, please. A pretty man with curly hair starring in a movie? Those guys hang out at the mall, definitely not here for some easy pleasure in this dump. But you know, I'm not losing hope that one day a really handsome older man will come along, fall madly in love with me, and shower me with aaaall his money. Like in Pretty Woman," Selena says playfully, with a touch of humor. "I'll call you when that happens," she adds with a laugh, acknowledging how unlikely it seems. "All the decent clients, they always ask for Hannah; it’s so unfair," she continues, rolling her eyes with a hint of envy. Despite her playful tone, she listens intently as Naeun begins to speak. "Hm? Not really. I mean, weird things always happen here and there, but nothing major or that caught my eye. Why? You're worrying me... Something's up?"

[dramaintherain]

DOONA! (2023) ★ ↳ Episode 01

[happyheidi]

𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖻𝖾𝖺𝗎𝗍𝗒 𝗈𝖿 𝗀𝗅𝗈𝗈𝗆𝗒 𝗐𝖾𝖺𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋.

[lechat-rpg]

[geaesaekki]

'You snore when you sleep.' ( maram, time to get bullied- )

They are at work, the office quiet, as Mara goes through the folder in her hands, moving between the pages, focused. She often finds herself paired with Garam, as they frequently land on the same cases. She handles the investigation; he organizes the evidence. Sitting on the other side of the desk, he’s focused on his own work, too. Then, he says the line, it breaks the silence and brings a raised brow on Mara's face. "I don't," she replies, still engrossed in her folder, refusing to let him see the slight amusement tugging at the corners of her lips. "I'm a motherfucking lady. Ladies don’t snore. They don’t hog the blanket. And they certainly don’t talk dirty in their sleep." She literally does all that. Her voice is a hushed whisper, just loud enough for him to hear. After all, their affair is a secret. "Whatever! You snore!" she counter attacks as she grabs a pencil and throws it at him, it lands on his chest.

[geaesaekki]

In the kitchen, the buzz of a ceiling fan mixes with the distant hum of crickets outside. The house, though small and unremarkable, serves as a quiet place amid the chaos of their undercover work. It's hot outside, like the end of the summer in Mexico. On the kitchen table, scattered files, photos, and notes hint at the progress of their investigation into the cartel they have been targeted, La sombra nega. The evidences are incomplete, a work in progress that promises more. They have been here for three months, three months of playing husband and wife in the eyes of the state. Mara being hald purto rican knows her spanish. Isabel.. that's her cover name. How he has to call her. It is one of the biggest case of her career and well, being Isabel so far felt like a rebirth, it felt good. And her partner well, she really likes him ( @officerconners ), he's good at what he does, they're alike on many aspects and his company reassures her too, a lot. If she was on her own here on this mission, she wouldn't have felt so secure. Her eyes scan the documents : the partially revealed connections, the names, and the snapshots of meetings are a testament to their hard work, but she knows there’s still a lot of ground to cover. “We’re making good progress, right? We gotta show that to the marshall when he contacts us again for a meeting,” she says, her voice steady and pretty pleased. “We’ve got some solid leads today, I'm proud of us, even if.. we’re not there yet. The more we dig, the clearer it’ll get. I'm sure.” She moves with a natural nonchalance and grace to the sink, pulling a pack of cigarettes placed there. It is so hot she wears a crop top t shirt, jean loose shorts, barefeet, her hair let loose, they're home after all. Lighting one, she takes a slow drag, the smoke curling around her as she heads to the stove. She opens a cabinet with a soft creak, pulling out ingredients with ease, for dinner. That too is different, back home she would always order some uber eats and only have beers in her fridge, they have days like this here too but Mexico isn't Seoul. From where he is, she can see him still at the table, her eyes glancing to him. "Sooo, how about quesadillas? I stole the recipe for the ones we ate on sunday, at Marco's when he was not looking, oops." She speaks, playful and mischievous she always are. "Like okay, they were so good but ughh he bragged too hard about it? Pretending i was his abuela's recipe when it's not, he lied. I'm sure we can make killer ones too, no?" She speaks casually, taking from the fridge what they have left, the cigarette dangling from her lips, adding a touch of normalcy to the evening routine. "Am I turning into these crazy wives who gets in competition with her neighbors for dumb food? You know what... " She pauses, her index finger raising as if she's holding that thought. "Maybe." She says, admitting she's competiive and letting a scoff off as she closes the fridge. The warm glow of the setting sun filters through the small window, casting a soft light inside.

[geaesaekki]

Mara leans back in her chair, a soft smirk playing on her lips as Julien speaks. A private tutor, huh? Not exactly what she expected, but then again, in this den, everyone’s got a story that doesn’t add up. She watches him closely, pretending not to, as he checks his cards. He’s composed, a little too composed for someone new to this world. Her fingers idly trace the edge of her whiskey glass, the condensation cool under her fingertips. As he glances around the table, meeting each player's eyes, Mara doesn’t look away, matching his gaze with a casual, almost lazy interest. She flicks her attention back to her own hand—Queen of Diamonds, Jack of Clubs. Not bad, not great. But she's not here to win every hand, she's greedy, she likes the game, she likes the money. "Waw," she says, her voice light, teasing, "A private tutor, huh? Sounds nice and quiet. So I gotta ask—" she lifts her glass to her lips, pausing just long enough to let the question linger— "do you like it here? I mean, sitting at our table, at this time of the day, you must be loving us." Right, a private tutor should have a lot more to do than hanging in this dump after daring to return the ring instead of giving it to the police. She cannot help but to be at least a bit suspicious to ask all these questions yet not suspicious enough to do more about it.

[geaesaekki]

  maritza, golden.