#slim and tone nyc

[fdmlovesfashion]

I believe in PINK! Romantic vibes and bows and love

[1arkspur-aconitum]

SOULS OF POETS (s.r.)

SOULS OF POETS DEAD AND GONE, WHAT ELYSIUM HAVE YOU KNOWN?

[PART ONE OF THREE]

IN WHICH: Spencer discovers more about Juniper’s previous work history, and it is not to his taste.

PAIRING: Season3!Spencer Reid/Fem!BAU!OC

CATEGORY: angst

CONTENT: strip-clubs, common BAU violence, the team being little shits, established secret relationship, Spencer being mean, not a happy ending (in this part at least)

WORD COUNT: 8k… (I got a bit carried away)

PUBLISHED: 16/10/24

TO SAY THIS ISN’T HOW I was expecting today to go would be an understatement.

Sure, we end up on some of the most bizarre cases in the FBI, but the chances of this happening are slim to none—I am not Dr. Reid, so I am unable to give you an exact statistic, but I reckon it would be in the 1:1 bajillion ballpark.

Normally the cases are bizarre because of M.O., or because the people we deal with are strange; I still remember that one interview Emily and I had with that frankly absurd woman with way too many garden gnomes inside her house. Or the time Derek and I found a dude in his bath, stark naked, the tub filled with what I have told myself was milk, and have refused to ponder any other possibilities since.

All that to say, we get weird shit at the BAU.

Yet when I walked in this morning and saw the photos, and read the case file, I was more nervous for this than I had been for any bomb or kidnapping case.

To the others, it looks perfectly average. Localised crime scene, moderately high-risk victims, a clear comfort zone. New York City isn’t far from D.C and we have a good relationship with the police working on the case already. Seems simple enough.

But even as I sit on the plane, knees up to my chest, I still feel as if I can’t take a proper breath. As I try to force myself to take one, I catch Emily’s concerned glance from across the aisle. She knows me too well.

I clear my throat and force myself to adjust. Dropping my knees underneath the table, I spread the photos across the table in front of me. Women’s bodies–hands and feet removed–shoved into the bins out the back of a strip of clubs ranging from gay bars, to strip joints, to your average night-out with the girls club.

Shoved into bins. Nothing better than rubbish.

To my left, Spencer is busy pouring over a map of the NYC suburbs. He’s armed with his favourite set of coloured pens, slender fingers idly tapping the lid on his chin as he thinks it over. Spencer, as always, looks adorable. Messy hair, loose tie, those cheekbones–the little furrow he gets between his eyebrows when he’s thinking. With his lips parted in focus, I can’t help but let my knee press against his under the table.

He smiles privately, not once looking up from his map. It’s the only concession to tenderness he’ll give me at work. The only one he can whilst we’re keeping our relationship hidden from the team.

‘So, when we land, I want us to hit the ground running,’ Hotch announces, drawing all of our attention to him. He looks at us gravely in turn. ‘We have to handle this one with tact, especially considering the subject matter–JJ and Rossi, I want you guys to head to the police station and help us get set up.’

‘That should be fun.’ Rossi says without a trace of humour in his tone. ‘The local police always get antsy about us treating these cases like they’re important–’

‘They are important.’ The words are out of my mouth before I can stop them, sounding a lot harsher than I originally intended. Rossi stops mid sentence. All eyes turn to me. Flushing, I pick at my fingernails as Spencer jostles my knee gently. ‘I’m sorry. It just pisses me off that people treat them like they aren’t.’

‘I know that, but the local police don't always.’ Rossi reminds me gently, flashing me the palms of his hands. A classic sign of apology. I incline my head and don’t say anything else. Emily is still watching me from across the aisle with those perceptive eyes of hers. ‘So JJ and I will do our best to get them on board.’

‘The rest of us are going to head to the main club that’s been targeted,’ Hotch has an air of disapproval in his tone, sending me a quick glare to remind me that I am the source of his anger. I sink lower into my seat, biting my lips shut. I shouldn’t have said anything at all. ‘See what we can find out about the place, the locals.’

‘Are you okay?’ Spencer murmurs to me under his breath a few moments later. The rest of the team have devolved back into their previous conversations, so the sweetness in his voice isn’t as easily detected. He is looking at me with those annoyingly perceptive, wide brown eyes. It’s like he’s peering deep into my skin and I don’t like it.

‘What? Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?’ I close myself off, folding my arms and trying to work some of the tension out of my jaw. I know I shouldn’t. I know it’s not Spencer’s fault, and even genius Spencer Reid doesn’t have all of the pieces to finally puzzle this together.

‘I don’t know…is it because we’re going to New York City?’

‘What’s made you think I don’t like New York?’

‘Well…I know you lived there for a while after you dropped out of Cornell–’

‘I took a break from Cornell, I went back eventually.’ I scowl at him, brushing some loose strands of hair away from my face. Spencer quirks his eyebrows but I can tell he’s laughing internally at me. ‘I completed that degree, thank you very much. I just…’

‘You just what?’ He bumps his warm shoulder gently against mine.

‘This case…’ I pick up a picture of one of the bins–the woman inside has her legs spread, blood crusted around where her feet used to be, the short skirt she was wearing shoved up around her hips. She seems so painfully familiar. ‘There’s something…there’s something personal about it.’

The next time I look at Spencer, his lips are slightly pursed, eyes narrowed. If I were to lean in, I’m ninety percent sure that I could hear the cogs in his brain working. The idea of Spencer finding out concerns me more than I want it to. Rechecking my microexpressions, I plaster on a mildly bored smile. He doesn’t believe it. I can tell immediately. Yet he still can’t put a pin on why I’m lying.

‘I feel bad,’ I say, doing my best to pace the words to a steady, ordinary beat. ‘These women are as deserving of respect as anyone else, and yet somehow they always end up being the ones covered in rubbish.’

Spencer nods slowly, apparently satisfied with this, but the narrowness to his usually wide eyes doesn’t fully lift. I can tell that I have not heard the last of this. Spencer Reid is nothing if not persistent–at least he won’t have to wait long to find out, because I know that as soon as we get off the plane, I’m on a deadline. An hourglass with only a teaspoon of sand left.

I lean back into the seat and wait to meet my terrible fate.

Elysium is everything you would expect from a strip-club.

Bleak and unassuming exterior, with one door manned by a beefy looking security guard, and several cameras aimed at the entrance. Inside it’s dark and seedy, the walls painted black to better enhance the vibrant colours of the strobe lights. They pulse in time to the music; a classic pop song I recognise, pumped through massive speakers at an almost deafening volume. The beat is so nostalgic I resist the urge to tap my foot.

We step into the main room and my heart stammers. It’s still laid out the same–a big raised platform at the back of the room with three poles, two currently in use. The women curve around the silver poles, the low lights slicking off of their curves. There’s a catwalk down the centre with a few loose notes blanketing it like leaves. The door to the right with the big neon ‘PRIVATE’ sign above it sits resolutely locked. The extensive bar has several scantily dressed women lean against it, talking to the patrons. It’s so familiar that I am suddenly twenty one again, walking into this place for the first time.

‘Can I help you?’ A voice says and I drag my attention from the bar.

The lady talking to Hotch hasn’t changed either. She’s still got that impossibly divine smooth skin, but she’s swapped the belly button piercing since I last saw her. It’s now a golden teardrop embellished in green that swings as she moves. Long dreads hang down to her waist and she’s dressed in the little gold number she always saved for big payouts. She must be planning on scoring high tonight. Despite myself, I let my face split into a broad smile.

‘Yes, actually could–’ Hotch starts, pointedly looking at her face rather than the rest of her body. Spencer is trying not to look at her breasts and failing–and I don’t think Derek even makes the attempt to be discreet. He’s like a kid in a sweet shop. The woman lifts her hand to silence him, brown eyes settling onto mine.

‘No fucking way.’ Tia takes two steps towards me, vibrant eyes scouring my figure. The last time she saw me, I would have been caught dead in a pair of suit trousers and a button down, yet here I am. I flare my arms away from my body, as if to say ‘yes way’. ‘June–Junebug!’

‘Hi, Tia.’ I laugh as she throws herself at me. Her strong arms wrap around my shoulders and she presses her body tightly against mine. The team is openly ogling at me as the stripper gives me the biggest, friendliest hug ever. I don’t look at them, though, face buried in her neck. She smells like cigarette smoke and vetiver perfume. ‘I’m afraid this isn’t a friendly visit.’

‘Somehow that doesn’t surprise me.’ Tia grins, gesturing at the gun holstered at my hip before she grabs me again. When she speaks next, she shakes me to punctuate each word. ‘Ugh, I’m so glad to see you! You don’t visit us enough, and you said you would.’

‘I know, T, I’m sorry.’ I extricate myself from her arms, wincing awkwardly at my team. I feel very exposed. There will be time for explanations later, though, and right now I’m busy basking in the warmth of an old friend. She’s right. I haven’t visited nearly as often as I said I would. Regret seeps through my pores. ‘We’re here to ask some questions about the murders that have been going on?’

‘Oh, of course.’ Tia immediately loses the air of excitement, brow furrowing. She inspects the team as a whole again, noting the way they’re looking between us with a curious air. When she looks back at me, she raises a quizzical brow. I shake my head–explanations later. Tia, ever the saint, doesn’t push the issue. ‘Come on, do you want to head to the back office? I’ll get some of the girls together but Harold is already in there, waiting to talk to you.’

‘Harold still works here?’ I blink, surprised.

‘Yeah, he does–his hip is bothering him more now, but he’s still kickin’,’ Tia loops her arm through mine and starts to lead me through the strip club. I can hear the sounds of my team whispering behind me as they fall into line, but I pointedly ignore them. Nosy buggers. ‘You would know that if you came to visit.’

‘I already feel guilty about it,’ I knock her with my elbow. ‘No need to make me feel worse.’

‘I’m just glad you’re here now.’ Tia presses a sticky, lip gloss kiss to my cheek as we stop by another inconsequential door. It’s been painted black to match the walls, designed to be unobserved by the patrons. The amount of secret spaces in this place is unprecedented, rat runs sprawling through the bowls of Elysium. It took me months to learn where all the nooks and crannies were. I scowl petulantly. ‘You remember where you’re going?’

‘Of course, I mean, how could I forget?’ I flash her my cheekiest of grins.

I cross my arms as I wait for the team to catch up with us, leaning back against the wall.

Derek is currently casually flirting with one of the barmaids–someone I do not recognise–which doesn’t surprise me. Hotch is scouring the layout of the place, pointedly avoiding looking at the half-naked women gyrating around poles, or meandering around laps.

Emily has that shit-eating grin on her face, striding towards me and Tia, and Spencer is staring down at his hands as he follows in Emily’s wake.

Thinking about it, I wonder if Spencer has ever even stepped foot in a strip club before. It doesn’t seem like his kind of vibe, but you never know. Spencer is always full of surprises.

‘I’m gonna get Jas, she’ll die when she sees you.’ Tia grins as Emily arrives, bouncing off into the crowd. Tia has always been my favourite; she was the one who took me under her wing when I first arrived at Elysium, who gave me a place to stay when I didn’t have anywhere. The fact that she’s still here hurts my heart like a bruise. We always said we’d get out together.

‘You, ma’am, have a lot of explaining to do.’ Emily grins at me when she gets within earshot, grabbing my elbow. She loves this.

‘There isn’t much to explain,’ I try, but then Derek appears on my other side and I know I am done for. ‘Seriously.’

‘What, so you’re just casually friends with strippers?’

‘What’s wrong with being friends with strippers?’ I retort, turning pleading eyes to Spencer.

Spencer Reid looks as uncomfortable as possible–his shoulders are tense, hand to his lips, that slight frown between his eyebrows. He’s physically trying to make himself smaller by curving his shoulders inwards. Whenever someone nearly naked walks past him, he deliberately makes a lot of space. If his eyeline drifts for more than a few seconds, he’s instantly staring down at his feet again, cheeks blazing red hot. When he meets my gaze, though, he cannot hide the subtle hint of interest. It becomes clear that Spencer is not the person I should look to for help.

Balls.

‘Hey, you know I’m not complaining–’

‘Shut up, Derek, you’re just salty because she kissed me.’ I shove him in the chest, realising I’m not going to get any help from anyone involved. I’m on my own. Turning away from them, I rap on the door. ‘I can feel your stupid grin, Morgan–and yours too, Prentiss.’

‘Ooo, the last names, someone means business.’ Emily teases, but a voice from inside the room invites us in, and I take this as my saving grace.

I open the door to the small back office, holding it wide with my foot so the rest of my team can trickle in. The office is relatively small, lined with filing cabinets, and manned by a desk covered in papers and an overflowing ashtray. Someone has replaced the wooden chairs with two comfier looking arm chairs, though they still look slightly weathered in the dim light. The ceiling fan above is still laden with cobwebs and dust, perpetually unused. Yet another thing that hasn’t changed.

Once the door is shut behind us, I turn my attention to the man sitting behind the desk.

‘June?’ Harold spots me first, his Texan voice thickened by tar and smoke. He has more wrinkles around his eyes now, but the smile is as blinding as the last time I saw it. Harold’s beard is streaked with white, and when he pushes himself to his feet, the silver cane is new, too. ‘Junebug? Is that really you?’

‘Alive and in the flesh.’ I smile, reaching out to hug him as he hobbles towards me. Harold was the one who gave me that moniker barely two days after I started working here. There’s something about the way he says it that doesn’t make me feel like he’s being condescending–in fact, it just reminds me that someone loves me enough to say a nickname with such adoration. I wrap my arms around him and hold on tightly. I try not to focus on how he feels thinner underneath me.

‘So,’ Harold says, stepping away from me but not letting go of my waist–I don’t know if it’s for support or just for show. I don’t really mind either way. He inspects the rest of my team, who are standing awkwardly around. None of them can hide the thinly veiled amusement from their faces, nor the bright curiosity. ‘These your friends?’

‘Yup.’ I nod, not meeting any of their eyes. There’s too much going on right now. Shame is a powerful emotion and even though I know I shouldn’t feel it, I can’t exactly control my own brain. ‘Uh, SSA Hotchner, Prentiss, and Morgan–and that’s Dr. Reid looking uncomfortable in the corner. We’re with the FBI.’

‘The FBI huh?’ Harold affixes me with that appraising stare before pushing away from me. I follow him, keeping my arm out for support. He plops himself down in his chair and leans back. Waggles his cane at me. ‘I never thought one of my best dancers would make it up into the big leagues like that. Good on you, Junebug.’

And there it is.

It takes Spencer about three seconds to process that information. About two times faster than it does for anyone else in the room. I can see the realisation burning red hot behind his brown eyes when he jerks them to me. I can’t hide my expression quickly enough–my blink is all he needs to confirm what Harold said. Spencer’s eyes cloud for a second, lips parted.

When he cocks his head curiously, I can tell exactly what he’s thinking. What he’s imagining in that brain of his. What a little shit. When his eyes focus again, he sees my look of disapproval and flushes. Then, his expression changes–closes off. Becomes unreadable. It’s an annoying talent he has and one of the most frustrating things about him.

‘Thanks, H.’ I clear my throat, ignoring the mercilessly gleeful grin on Emily’s face. ‘Guys, this is Harold, he’s the manager here–if something happened, Harold is the one who’s most likely to know about it.’

‘You were a stripper?’ Derek blurts out. Of course he would be the one to ask first. It just encourages Emily, though. Soon enough, both of them are peppering me with questions like they’re rubber bullets.

‘How long did you work here?’

‘Yeah–were you good?’

‘Why didn’t you tell us?’

‘Do you still dance?’

‘Was she good?’ Derek directs this last question to Harold, evidently not satisfied with my silence.

‘Jesus Christ, guys, it’s not exactly relevant, is it?’ I snap, feeling a familiar burn of anger and shame. Spencer has remained, thankfully, silent, but is watching me with that blank expression. It’s unsettling. ‘Can we focus? I’ll answer your questions later, we’re here about several murders, let’s not get distracted by the fact that I used to be a stripper.’

‘You ain’t told ‘em till just now?’ Harold says from his seat, voice tinged with amusement and something that strikes me too much as sorrow. When I look at him, he’s surprisingly sad. It hurts me right in the centre of my chest. ‘I can understand that. There ain’t any shame in it, though, Junebug. You loved it here. Sure, you were at rock-bottom, but e’ryone who comes here is. It’s an absolute joy to see you doin’ somethin’ fulfillin’.’

‘Stop it, Harold,’ I say, the words choked somewhere in the back of my throat. A tingling sensation behind my nose threatens to make me sob. His words carve away at something within me, a part of me I haven’t thought about since…well, since I left Elysium. Avoiding looking at the others, I step around to the withered old man. Rest my hand on his shoulder. The next words are a breath of sadness. ‘Thank you.’

He understands that that’s not just for his words today. It’s for everything.

Harold gives me that sad smile again and rests his own hand on top of mine. It’s a connection I haven’t had in a while–Harold always reminded me of my father. Seeing him again is like seeing the ghost of my dad. I can’t afford to break down in front of the others, not when we’re here for a job, so blink furiously at the silver lining around my eyes. I plaster a smile on.

‘Bishop,’ Hotch says, voice low and measured. His words are not unkind and he is the only one out of the entire team that does not look disturbed, surprised, or horrified. Realistically, Hotch probably already knew this about me. I imagine it’s on my file somewhere. ‘If you need to go to the police station, you can. We can handle the questions here.’

‘It’s alright,’ I say, taking a deep breath and schooling my features. I do my best to forget where I am, who I am with–I try to become Dr. Bishop, the FBI agent working on a case that she has no personal connection to. ‘I can do it. Besides, I think Tia might kill me if I leave before she can accost me again.’

‘Alright, then.’ Hotch nods briskly, and the questioning begins.

Hotch leads it, as usual, Derek and Emily still staring at me with those aghast expressions. I don’t care about them, though. Whilst Hotch and Harold discuss the recent murders (three of the girls had been new dancers at Elysium, some of them regulars) and if Harold saw anything suspicious (a few odd cars, but most people who come here are unusual or strange), I keep my eyes trained on Spencer. I want to see what his reaction is, to gauge if I should start thinking about damage control.

He’s busy scouring the room, taking at each of the pictures on the wall. They're all of the dancers Harold has employed. I’m up there somewhere. I wonder if that’s what Spencer is looking for. He stands with one arm across his lower stomach, the other brought up to his chest. Long fingers rub the sharpness of his jaw idly. His eyes work furiously across the walls, committing everything to memory.

Spencer has always been good at disguising his microexpressions, so I doubt that I can ever truly work out what he is thinking from just observing him. The blankness hasn’t gone from him.

I hope he’s relaxed, though, and not severely freaked out. I have no idea what I would do if he was severely freaked out.

‘Hey, Junebug!’ Tia’s melodic voice cuts through my panic crisis-prepping brain fog as she steps into the room, making Spencer jump. I turn to look and see that my gorgeous friend is dragging yet another gorgeous friend into the office. The other girl is tall, willowy, with ice-blonde hair that she’s been carefully maintaining since I knew her. She is wearing a pair of thigh-high blue boots and the tiniest lingerie set I have ever seen. ‘Sorry to keep you waiting, this one was a nightmare to find.’

‘It’s true!’ Jas squeaks, her eyes widening as she lays them on me. I barely have enough time to process her being there before she launches herself at me. Despite the fact that she is all bone, Jas is surprisingly strong, and squeezes her arms around my neck. ‘I can’t believe you’re here. It’s been so long, what the fuck, June, where have you been?!’

‘Whoa, there, Jas,’ Tia chuckles, gripping Jas by the shoulders and extricating her from me. Grateful, I rub the spot where Jas’s acrylic nails dug into my skin. ‘Give her some breathing space. She’s with the FBI, silly, didn’t you hear me say that?’

‘You’re such a bitch.’ Jas scowls at me as she shakes Tia off, and hits me hard in the upper arm. I yelp in pain, staring at her with an affronted look. She pats the spot where she hit me apologetically. ‘I’m sorry, I just missed you.’

‘No need to get violent.’ I remind her, turning her around to face the rest of my team. ‘We’re here to ask you some questions about the recent murders?’

‘FBI?’ Jas scans my team, her eyes widening as they sweep over each member. Her gaze lingers on Spencer, and I can see the familiar glint of interest sparking in her eyes. She lets out a long, low, appreciative whistle that seems to echo around the small office. I can tell immediately what’s going through her mind, and I brace myself for what is about to happen. Jas angles her head like a cat watching a bird. Her posture shifts. ‘Well, hello there. Aren’t you the most handsome man I’ve ever seen?’

Spencer’s reaction is immediate and intense. His face flushes a deep crimson, the blush spreading down underneath his collar when he realises that she is talking to him. His eyes, wide with surprise and discomfort, immediately lock desperately on me. The way he shifts his weight from foot to foot, his hands fidgeting with the hem of his shirt, is so endearingly awkward that I can’t help but find it utterly adorable.

I have to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing as I watch Jas saunter seductively towards him, hips swaying with each step.

‘Jasmine,’ I interject, my voice is thick with warning, hoping that that hides the jealousy I’m feeling as she begins to circle Spencer like a shark. She trails a hand across the back of his shoulders and I have to resist the urge to physically remove it. Only I am allowed to touch Spencer like that. ‘Behave, please. That’s my colleague.’

What I really want to say is ‘that’s my boyfriend you’re pawing at’, but I can’t. Not when the team is standing right there, watching with varying degrees of amusement. The secret aspect of our relationship hasn’t bothered me as much as it does right now. I don’t know what to do.

‘Oh, come on, Junebug, you’ve never been a prude.’ Jas flashes me a familiar, mischievous grin as she casually straightens Spencer’s collar from behind, her nails scraping across his shirt. I know that expression–I’ve seen it on her several times before she scores a big payout, and Jas always scores big. Bitter jealousy twists in the base of my stomach. ‘If I remember correctly, you would have been all over this one a few years ago. Let me have my fun. What’s your name, handsome?’

‘I–I’m Dr. Spencer Reid.’ He stammers, bottom lip pulled between his teeth as he finds the ceiling very interesting. I can practically feel the heat radiating from him. Part of me wants to intervene, to yank her away from him and put an end to this little performance. But another part, a part I am decidedly not proud of, wants to see what Spencer will do. It’s a test of sorts, though I am not sure what I am testing or why.

‘Dr. Spencer Reid.’ Jas purrs, drawing out each syllable as if it’s fine wine. She completes her predatory circle to stand in front of Spencer, giving me an excellent view of her pert behind. It’s not exactly hidden in the thong she’s donned. She twists a stray strand of his hair around her finger. Spencer flinches away from her touch, and I can’t help but feel a pang of sympathy. I want to tell her to back off but Derek’s amused expression stops me. ‘A doctor–you’ve always loved a man with brains, Junebug. So, Spencer, what brings you to Elysium? Looking for some extracurricular studies?’

‘We–we’re here about the, the recent murders…’ Spencer chokes out, his voice strained and higher than usual. He’s still staring resolutely at the ceiling, as if trying to solve some complicated mathematical equation etched into the plaster.

‘Yes, we are.’ Hotch cuts in, his voice taking on a sharp and authoritative tone. He places a firm hand on Spencer’s shoulder, effectively creating a barrier between him and Jasmine. I feel a rush of gratitude towards my Unit Chief for doing what I could not. ‘We’re hoping you could help us by answering some questions, not by accosting a Federal Agent.’

‘I suppose.’ Jas pouts dramatically, but there is a glimmer of understanding in her eyes. She knows she’s pushed the boundaries a little bit too far. Her shoulders slump in defeat, but she turns back to Spencer. ‘I guess I can behave. But only if the good doctor here promises to buy me a drink. What do you say, gorgeous? Care to hear some stories about our Junebug’s wilder days?’

‘I will buy you that drink, Jasmine.’ I interject quickly, my words coming out harsher than intended. My hand shoots out, curling around her upper arm as I tug her a few steps away from Spencer. I fix her with a stern look, eyebrow raised in silent warning. ‘Leave Spencer alone.’

‘Fine, June, you absolute spoil sport.’ She hisses at me, but there’s no real venom in her tone. If anything, there’s a hint of amusement, as if she’s enjoying this power play. It wouldn’t surprise me. ‘Why don’t all of us go out for a drink, then, if I can’t have Spencer by himself?’

‘Can we focus, please?’ I sigh, not liking the way both Emily and Derek have perked up upon hearing the possibility of getting the juicy information about my ‘wilder days’ as Jasmine so kindly phrased it. ‘We are here on official business–we can gossip later, alright?’

‘Alright, alright, message received.’ Jas rolls her eyes but finally relents. She sits down on Harold’s desk, looking expectantly up at us. ‘Ask away.’

‘Don’t think you can escape, Juniper Bishop.’

Balls.

I turn around sheepishly, one hand on the door to my hotel room. I was so close. If I hadn’t stopped to stock up on snacks, I might have escaped, might have managed to prolong the inevitable until I felt ready to face it. That’s the unfortunate thing about the inevitable, though. It always comes around eventually.

There, standing at the end of the corridor, are Derek Morgan, Emily Prentiss, and JJ. I only need to take one look at the blonde to realise that they have already dobbed me in, and have caught her up to speed about what happened at Elysium. They stand there like hunters spotting prey and knowing it has nowhere else to run.

‘Seriously, guys? Now?’ I sigh, leaning against the doorframe and readjusting the snacks in my arms–the vending machine was limited, but it had Oreos, and that’s good enough for me. Hair falls into my face as I hang my head. ‘I was just gonna watch a film and go to sleep…’

‘Not happening.’ Emily announces, striding over to me and grabbing my upper arm. ‘We’re going to the bar.’

‘The bar?’ I say, dragging my feet but letting her lead me over to the others. I don’t like the way they are looking at me. I feel like a student being dragged to the headmaster’s office for a scolding. ‘We haven’t solved the case yet, surely it’s a bad idea to drink on the job?’

‘Then order a soda.’ JJ grips my other arm and they frog march me towards the top of the stairs.

‘Guys.’ I whine, trying to dig my heels into the plush carpet, and failing spectacularly. It’s no use. I am dragged rather roughly down the stairs and towards the hotel bar, my protests falling on deaf ears. ‘Come on, this is ridiculous–’

‘What’s going on?’

‘Spencer, save me!’ I call, looking over my shoulder to spot my handsome boyfriend by the lift, his head angled curiously as he witnesses what is essentially my death march. JJ and Emily take no prisoners, though, and continue to haul me towards the bar.

‘We’re just gonna ask her some questions, that’s all.’ Derek says, talking to Spencer as if he’s just found out that I am a suspect in a gruesome murder. Spencer blinks, confused, and starts to trail after us. ‘Care to join?’

When we reach the bar, I am deposited unceremoniously into a booth, being wedged in by Emily and opposed by JJ. Derek and Spencer don’t take long to join us, the former drifting off towards the bar with a firm warning not to start without him. The latter sits down beside JJ. I glare at them, arms folded across my chest, Oreos abandoned on the table.

‘You brought this upon yourself, you know.’ Emily says, all high and mighty. She rests her elbows on the bar and cocks her head at me. ‘I mean, I knew there was something…different about you, but this? This is not what I was expecting.’

‘Oh my God.’ I groan, staring down at the table rather than at their three pairs of inquisitorial eyes. Spencer’s gaze is the hardest one to avoid and the worst one to meet. He’s guarded his expression so I can’t fully read it, but judging from the way he has his arms crossed, he isn’t going to come to my rescue. Evidently he’s just as curious as the rest of them. ‘Was all this really necessary?’

‘You were the one trying to hole up in your room.’ JJ says with a casual shrug, glancing over to where Derek is paying for a selection of drinks. ‘Forgive us for trying to get to the bottom of this.’

‘There isn’t anything to get to the bottom of!’ I say, voice rising in volume and in pitch. ‘I think you guys are making this out to be worse than it actually is.’

‘Aw, come on, hotstuff, we’re just curious.’ Derek says, putting down a circular black tray in the middle of the table. He divvies off the drinks, placing what suspiciously looks like a G&T in front of me. Despite my earlier reluctance to imbibe, I’m kind of grateful. I might need alcohol to get through this. Once he’s done, he pulls up a stool and heads the table. ‘Can you blame us?’

‘Yes.’ I retort, slumping back in my seat and scowling. ‘Fine. Fine. Ask away.’

‘How come you never told us you used to be a stripper?!’ Emily cuts right to the chase, leaning forward even further. If her eyes could get any wider, they would. She resembles one of those weird marsupials with the long fingers that tap on trees to eat the bugs.

‘It…it never came up.’ I shrug, running my finger along the edge of my glass and glancing at Spencer. He’s still utterly unreadable, stirring the ice around his drink with a straw. He’s watching me carefully, probably looking for any microexpressions or tells–fucker knows me too well at this point. Unlike him, I’ve never been good at hiding things. ‘It’s not exactly something you just casually tell people, especially when you now work for the FBI. It’s…frowned upon.’

‘I suppose I can understand that.’ JJ concedes, taking a sip of her drink. ‘When were you working there?’

‘Oh, maybe, like, five, six years ago?’ I copy her movement, letting the gin blaze down my throat. It’s relaxing.

‘So…was this before or after your PhD?’

‘After. I was in the middle of completing another undergrad at Cornell when…well, when I started to dance.’

‘Another undergrad?’ Derek says, apparently more surprised at my academic achievements than the fact that I used to get naked and dance around for money.

‘Yes, Derek, another one.’ I laugh, sipping my drink again and let myself watch Spencer watching me. ‘I was bored after finishing my PhD and felt like doing another degree–it was psychology, which now that I think about it, is kind of ironic.’

‘So…were you dancing to pay off your debt?’ Emily asks, her curiosity piqued. Her bright brown eyes sparkle with intrigue. I’m apparently the most fascinating thing she has seen in quite some time. ‘I mean, degrees are expensive, were you having money problems?’

‘No, it wasn’t the money.’ I confirm, eyes flickering down to trace the pattern of the wood. I have to be careful here, and I have to choose my words with the utmost precision. God, sometimes talking to these guys feels a lot like sitting an exam. ‘It was…well, there were a lot of things going on, and I felt very out of control. I don’t know, I think dancing gave me the control…and the escape…that I needed.’

‘There are other ways to get control.’ Spencer finally speaks, and I almost flinch at the rawness of his words. When I look at him, he’s staring down into his drink. His tone is laced with disapproval. ‘Why…why would you do something like that?’

‘Don’t get me wrong, I have no shame in it.’ I say, somewhat harsher than intended. ‘I loved dancing. It was empowering and freeing, and brought me a lot of joy. But I started it for the wrong reasons, and unfortunately it facilitated habits I really should have been trying to break rather than…well, rather than indulging.’

‘And, according to Harold, you were good. In fact, I think he said you were one of the best.’ Derek grins cheekily at me, eyes roving over my body. I can see Spencer tense out of the corner of my eye at Derek’s words, his shoulders closing inwards. This is dangerous territory.

‘Stop picturing it, Morgan–never gonna happen.’ I flick an ice cube at him, but laugh to show him I am actually teasing.

‘Wait, really?’ Emily sounds genuinely upset, gaping at me. The concept that Emily Prentiss was actually considering asking me to dance for her blows my mind.

‘Oh, come off it, I’m not gonna strip for my coworkers!’

‘Even if I paid you?’ Derek flirts, leaning towards me and flashing me his characteristic wink.

‘Oh, Derek, sweetheart,’ I let the words roll around my tongue, let them drip seductively from my lips. I focus all of my attention onto him as if he were another patron eager for something from Elysium. My eyes trail slowly across his handsome face, lingering on the firm jaw, sticking to his slightly parted mouth. Derek swallows–hard. He leans in just a little bit more. ‘You wouldn’t be able to afford me.’

‘Damn…’ Derek blinks as if clearing his eyes off water. The others (minus Spencer) are laughing at us, and I join in. Derek, to his credit, moves past it with dignity. ‘Worth a shot, eh.’

‘You’re a pig, Morgan,’ JJ steps to my rescue, sneering at our coworker. ‘What would Garcia say if she could hear that?’

‘Hell, she’d probably ask me to split the cost with her.’ Derek winks at me again, but I don’t indulge him this time. I’m watching Spencer, and my heart is sinking.

He hasn’t touched his drink. It just sits in front of him, condensation forming a ring around the bottom. Spencer is staring down into it as if it’s the most interesting thing he has ever seen, eyes narrowed, lips pursed. I know that if I looked under the table, his hands are most likely either fiddling with the seam of his slacks, or balled in his lap.

He looks…angry. Hurt. Betrayed, almost. I don’t really blame him. It’s a lot to hear, and I should have told him when he asked me about it on the plane. Spencer doesn’t ask for much, but what he does ask for is transparency. Truth.

I don’t know why I didn’t tell him. I want to reach out and touch him, apologise for not mentioning it to him, and apologise for the fact that when I am telling him, it’s surrounded by our coworkers. I can’t reassure him in the way that I want.

What I want to do is hold him and kiss him and tell him that none of the past matters now that my future is his. I have never regretted keeping our relationship underwraps–it works for us, especially considering it’s so new, but…but right now, it sucks.

As I continue to watch him adamantly not looking at me, I wonder if I actually do know the reason why I didn’t tell him. Maybe I didn’t tell him because some small part of me didn’t want him looking at me like that. Like I am dirty, or impure, or whatever disgusting words people use for strippers.

‘So, let me get this straight.’ JJ is saying, seeing off the remainders of her drink. ‘You started dancing because you were in a rough patch. That’s fine. What made you stop?’

‘Hah, my mother.’ My laughter is dry, and I take another sip of my drink. ‘She’s very good at being disappointed. She basically sorted me out, sent me off to complete my undergrad. I haven’t danced since.’

‘Do you miss it?’

‘Sometimes, Em, sometimes.’ I smile at her, trying to squish down any thoughts of Spencer’s upset gaze. ‘I mean, not the sleazy pricks, or the teenagers who don’t know how to listen to boundaries, but I miss my friends–Tia, Jas, Harold–and I miss the freeness of it. If you guys haven’t had some kind of pole class or something, I seriously recommend it.’

‘You could teach us.’ JJ suggests.

I laugh dryly, swilling my drink. ‘You and Emily, sure, but Spencer and Derek on a pole? Could be questionable…’

‘Hey, I’ll have you know I would be a very good stripper!’

‘Whatever you say, Derek.’ I roll my eyes at him but I can’t stop the laughter. I finish off my drink and am very glad that I decided to accept it. Alcohol warms me from the inside. Makes this whole conversation so much easier. ‘So…are you guys satisfied? Can I go to bed–can I eat my Oreos?’

‘No way, Hops, we’re only just getting started.’ Emily grins naughtily at me and gestures for Derek to get another round. Before he can, though, Spencer is already standing and walking away from the table towards the bar without a word. Ouch. It’s clear he’s not very impressed. He hasn’t even finished his drink. ‘We still have so many questions.’

‘Like, did you have a stage name?’

‘What kind of dances did you do? Pole, group, private?’

‘Did you have a signature move?’

‘Do you still have a stripper playlist? If so, can I have it?’

‘Did you ever fall off the pole?’

‘What was the most money you made in one night?’

‘Did you have any regulars? Like, people who came in just to see you?’

‘Did any of them ever try to take you home?’

‘Did you let them?’

‘Oh my God, guys!’ I have to slam my hands on the table to get them to shut up, the words coming in a breathless laugh. I think Derek might have gotten me a double because the alcohol has loosened my tongue and I’m genuinely considering answering them. ‘One question at a time, please.’

It is then that Spencer returns, passing around the drinks quickly. He can’t even look me in the eye as he sits down and goes back to staring into his drink. My mind whirrs with ways to rectify this problem, but it’s not as if I can go back and change the past. Spencer has to come to terms with this on his own merit, and all I can do is wait.

‘Tell us everything.’ Emily gushes, taking a healthy swig of her fresh drink.

‘Everything? Do you think you can handle everything, Spencer?’ I don’t know why I call him out like that. As soon as the words are out of my mouth, I regret them. I chase the icky feeling away with a swig of another double G&T.

Spencer finally looks up, his eyes meeting mine for the first time in what feels like hours. There’s a flicker of something in his gaze–hurt, maybe? Anger? Perhaps even a hint of arousal. I can’t fully tell, and that scares me. Spencer opens his mouth, but before he can say anything, Derek interrupts.

‘Hey, Reid, don’t tell me you’re not curious.’ Derek nudges him playfully, but Spencer doesn’t react. He just continues to stare at me, expression unreadable. I have no idea what that look is trying to say. ‘Come on, man, we all wanna hear about Junebug’s wild past.’

‘Don’t call me that.’ I snap, shaking my head at Derek. I don’t know why, but hearing that old nickname on his tongue upsets me. Derek shows me the palms of his hands in apology and I’m pleased to see that my little outburst has shifted his focus away from Spencer.

‘Come on,’ JJ sighs, cutting Derek and Spencer a curious glare. ‘Tell us everything.’

I hesitate for a moment, taking another drink. How much to reveal? I realise that I am going to have to toe a careful line between what is suitable to tell them, and what I want to take to the grave. They are my friends first, though. Colleagues second. There’s not much point in hiding anymore, not if they still want to go out for drinks with Jas and Tia when we’ve finished the case. There’s no going back.

‘Alright.’ I take a deep breath and start to pull at my fingernails. ‘But don’t judge me, okay?’

‘We promise.’ Emily says, voice so sincere that it almost hurts. She raises her glass in a mock toast, and the others follow suit–even Spencer raises his glass, though his movements are more stilted, eyes clouded with that mixture of emotions I’m driving myself insane trying to decipher.

‘I did dance under a stage name–it was Cassandra, or Cass. I chose it because–’

‘Because of the priestess?’ Spencer’s words are a mere mumble, but I am so attuned into him that I hear him. He’s looking somewhere in the region of my collar, but at least he’s looking at me.

‘Yeah. Precisely. She was this Trojan priestess that was cursed to see the future, but for no one to believe her, but I chose it because of what the name means, etymologically.’

‘Bless you.’ Emily teases, and I roll my eyes. ‘Go on, what does it mean?’

‘The Greek spelling is with a K, so ‘kassos’ means to excel, and ‘andros’ means over men. So her name literally means ‘to excel over men’. I was quite proud of that one.’

‘Damn…and did you? Excel over men?’

‘Oh, yeah.’ I grin, taking a sip. ‘I did a variety of different types of dances–you kind of have to do all of them, really. No favourite moves, a couple of regulars that came in just to watch me, and yes, Emily, I do still have my playlist. To answer your question, Derek, a couple of them tried to take me home, and only one succeeded.’

‘What?’ Spencer’s word is perfectly formed, a bullet that pierces through the alcoholic armour I’d been establishing. I blink in surprise. He is staring at me with his mouth slightly parted, such a betrayed look on his face that I’m cut deep to the core. Spencer had seemed content to stay out of the conversation, but this is perhaps the first sign I get about how he’s actually feeling. ‘You slept with the people you danced for?’

‘Only one, and that was a long time ago–’ I say, wondering how only Spencer can get me feeling so defensive and so eager to alleviate his concerns.

‘It doesn’t matter when it was.’ Spencer’s voice is sharp, but he remains motionless, evidently not wanting to give away too much. The rest of the team are leaning back in their seats to get away from the tense energy now crackling between us. Emily is looking between us with a curious expression. ‘You slept with someone you barely knew, someone who saw you as nothing more than a–’

‘Than a what, Spencer? Go on, say ‘whore’, I know you want to.’ I snap back, slamming my glass down onto the table more violently than intended. Spencer flashes hurt eyes at me. ‘Jesus, Spencer, it’s my life–my old life–and I did what I wanted with it. I don’t need to explain it to you.’

‘No, no, don’t worry,’ Spencer scoffs, voice laced with bitterness. ‘I’ve worked it out. You used to sell your body for money, let men ogle you and touch you and degrade you, and you slept with one of them just because you thought, what, you thought it was fun? That doesn’t make you a stripper, June, that makes you a hooker.’

‘What the fuck, Reid?’ My words are soft, but the meaning is harsh. I’m hurt. I’ve heard those words a thousand times, from a thousand different people, but hearing it from Spencer–my Spencer–sucks the life right out of me. It’s as if it’s the first time I’m hearing it. All I want to do is run away and hide, but I can’t. ‘Don’t talk to me like that. You have no idea what it was like.’

‘Oh, but I do. I’ve seen the crime scenes.’ Spencer’s voice is cold. Clinical. Detached. It breaks my heart a little. ‘I’ve seen what those men do to women like you, I know how they treat you, how they view you. And you willingly put yourself in that position–it’s…it’s disgusting and, and–’

‘Stop it!’ I snap, slamming my hands onto the table. His words hit me like a physical blow, knocking all of the air out of my lungs. My eyes line with silver. I can’t believe he’s saying this to me, I can’t comprehend that he thinks that about me. I rise out of my seat, towering over the table. ‘Stop fucking talking, Reid. How dare you?’

‘Whoa, hey, easy now…’ Emily puts out a warning arm between us and I am suddenly reminded that the rest of the team are there. They have shifty looks on their faces. ‘Let’s all just calm down.’

‘No, actually–actually, I’m done.’ I sigh, seeing off my drink and gesturing for Emily to get out of the booth. ‘I’m leaving. Fuck this.’

I grab my snacks and my phone before pushing out past the rest of them and making a beeline for the door. I can hear their voices call out after me, but I don’t care. Even when I see Spencer rise too, as if making to follow me, I don’t change my trajectory. Thankfully Derek yanks Spencer back down into his seat. At least that’s one less thing to worry about. I stalk out of the bar as quickly as possible.

It’s only when I’m in the lift that I let the hot, salty tears start to fall.

THANK YOU FOR READING! PART TWO CAN BE FOUND HERE.

[siremasterlawrence]

I am slim toned 38 years old light skinned black Dom nerdy Dominant in NYC seeking a total power exchange subs.

I am seeking a few permanent muscled and even better older then me subs.

Be white/asian/latino

Serious subjects want, no disappearing, no running away, happy to be trained/reprogrammed, and owned.

[oc3anawrites]

introducing my OC- Amaya Young.

you may see quite a few different OC's in my fics but in this post I'd like to introduce Amaya. (the AI image is just a reference to how she looks it's definitely not exact. My description will probably give you a better idea. Also I know she's such a basic white girl but I will have more OC's with more diverse backgrounds and physical appearance so keep an eye out for those!

Amaya's age changes based on when the story takes place but she is only a few years younger than Marc Spector.

Her physical appearance- Amaya usually sports long white hair with dyed black tips. Her eyes are a mix of a hazy blue and grey. She has a slightly warm skin tone that is a stark difference from her icy hair. Amaya has a small scar in the middle of her forehead, right above the bridge of her nose. Its about half an inch long. Amaya's features are soft but sharp at the same time. Her jaw and cheeks are defined, her eyes slightly sunk in. Her eyebrows are almost as dark as the ends of her hair and often express a lot of emotion. Amaya usually wears black clothing that is fitted to her slim figure.

Her backstory- I can't reveal much about her backstory as to not spoil the plot of the fic I'm writing but here's what I can say- Amaya is secretive, cold and blunt at times. She is impulsive and tends not to consider the consequences. Her temper can be short and she can have sudden bursts of explosive anger. She has BPD (written by someone who also does). She has a horrid fear of abandonment and when she falls in love, she goes to dangerous lengths, risking everything else to keep her favorite person safe. Her childhood was definitely not a happy one and let's just say it led to some *cough* unhealthy coping skills and the older she gets, the more she loses control over her untreated mental health issues.

She definitely won't just be a broken girl who "needs to be fixed". Her character will show her unique struggles and the way it effects her and those around her. Amaya is frustrating at times, especially with her black and white thinking. She tends not to think in the greys, assuming and judging other people and their character before giving them a chance to get to know her. She has a very hard time opening up but when she does it's like the flood gates to the worlds largest dam have just poured out in front of her. She's a little too forgiving and even though she may be untrusting, she has a soft spot for men with curly brown hair. *hint hint*. She has a hard time committing to anything, especially when it comes to love.

She is very smart and has a unique interest in Egyptology, although not nearly as smart or as into it as Steven. She just picked it up from her father. #daddyissues She is American, born in New York. (honestly I didn't know where to make her born so I decided NYC since all the avengers shit always happens there lmao) Her accent is american similar to Marcs. (except female obviously). She has traveled around the world however and even picked up a few languages and some intriguing knowledge on the way.

There will definitely be different stories that contain her as an OC but in a different way in each.

I hope you'll enjoy this complex character and maybe even some of you can relate and find understanding in her struggles throughout her character development.

[opulvnts]

    •  •  •    lolita  by  lana  del  rey :    spotted !    if  it  isn’t  aiyla  sözeri  walking  through  the  streets  of  nyc .    people  say  she  looks  like  hande  erçel ,    but  i  really  don’t  see  it .    the  thirty  year  old  humanitarian  aid  worker  &  actress  is  out  here  making  mommy  and  daddy  proud .    while  they  have  been  known  to  be  beguiling ,    we’ve  all  seen  their  obdurate  nature  come  to  light .    sources  tell  me  they  remind  people  of  effortless  elegance ,    a  heart  made  of  gold ,    disregarding  celebrity  status  in  favour  of  the  mundane ,    exuding  gentle  femininity .    /  ciswoman  /  she  &  her .

♡     ◞        𝐷𝑂𝑆𝑆𝐼𝐸𝑅  ,   𝗍𝗁𝖾   𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗌𝗍𝗂𝖼𝗌 .

official   name  :  aiyla   zehra   sözeri  .   nickname  :  lia  .   birthdate  : july   9th  ,   1992  .   birthplace  :  istanbul  ,   turkey  .   citizenship  :  turkish  -  american  .   current   residence  :  pacific   palisades  ,   los  angeles  .   gender  :   cis   female  ,   she / her   pronouns  .   orientation  :   bisexual  ,   biromantic  .  languages  :  turkish  ,   english  ,   french  ,   spanish  .   occupation  :   actress  &   humanitarian   aid   worker  .

♡     ◞        𝐷𝑂𝑆𝑆𝐼𝐸𝑅  ,   𝘱𝘩𝘺𝘴𝘪𝘤𝘢𝘭 .

faceclaim  :  hande   erçel  .   height  :   five   foot   five  .   build  :  slim  ,   toned .   eye   color  :  brown  .   hair   color  :   brown  .   hair   style  :  natural   waves .   signature   scent  :  irresistible   by   givenchy  .   style  :  very   feminine  ,   subtle   luxury  ,   timeless  .   piercings  :   three   on   each   lobe  .   tattoos  :  none  .   scars  :   none  .

♡     ◞        𝐷𝑂𝑆𝑆𝐼𝐸𝑅  , 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘰𝘯𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘺 .  

big   three  :  cancer   sun  ,   scorpio   moon  ,   sagittarius   rising  .   mbti  :   infp  -  a  .   label  : the   philanthropic  .   traits  :  beguiling  ,   altruisitc  ,   obdurate  ,   workaholic  .   character   inspo  :  bonnie   bennet   (  tvd  )  ,   annie   january   (  the   boys  )  ,   esme   cullen   (  twilight  )  ,   kala   dandekar   (  sens8  )  .

♡     ◞        𝐷𝑂𝑆𝑆𝐼𝐸𝑅  ,    𝘧𝘢𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘪𝘢𝘭 .  

biological   father  :  malik   sözeri  .   occupation  :  politician  .   biological   mother  : yasemin   sözeri  .   occupation  :   former   model  ,   head   of   multiple   charitable   organisations  .   siblings  :  demir   sözeri  ,   kazim   sözeri ,   aydin   sözeri   &   nesrin   altintaş  .

♡     ◞        𝑩𝑰𝑶𝑮𝑹𝑨𝑷𝑯𝒀  ,   𝘵𝘩𝘦   𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘺 .

born   in   istanbul ,      aiyla   was   the   daughter   to   two   very   successful   people .      her   father ,      malik ,      was   a   former   business   tycoon   who   made   his   way   onto   the   political   circuit   and   her   mother ,      yasemin ,      used   to   model   for   high   end   designers   but   is   now   running   her   own   charity   organisations .

moving   to   the   united   states   was   a   decision   malik   made   in   order   to   further   his   political   career   as   well   as   strengthen   ties   for   his   business .

initially   aiyla   disliked   her   new   home ,      the   culture   shock   was   intense  and  she   missed   her   extended   family   in   istanbul .      but   determination   to   make   it   in   a   foreign   country   was   all   that   drove   her ,      she   wasn’t   concerned   with   the   fame ,      fortune   or   prestige   that   her   parents   had .      instead   aiyla   wanted   to   do   what   she   felt   passionate   about ,      regardless   of   whether   or   not   it’d   gain   her   notoriety .

aiyla   grew   up   watching   her   older   brothers   vying   for   her   father’s   attention ,      each   of   them   undertaking   studies   that   they   thought   would   look   promising   in   his   eyes   and   gain   them   praise   and   adoration .      more   than   often   malik   was   cold ,      harsh   and   uncaring ,      most   of   it   directed   at   his   youngest ,      aiyla .      he   felt   disappointed   that   she   didn’t   aim   for   the   same   studies   or   occupations   as   her   brothers   did ,     one’s   malik   viewed   as   admirable   and   worth   his   acknowledgement .

malik   and   yasemin   sözeri   died   while   on   their   way   to   venice ,      malik   had   just   been   elected   as   his   states   governor   and   was   joining   his   wife   on   her   trip   to   italy   for   a   celebration   for �� her   charity .      their   plane   had   a   systems   malfunction   and   crashed   into   the   ocean ,      leaving   no   survivors .      the   siblings   went   to   italy   to   identify   the   remains   and   wreckage ,      the   eldest   of   her   brothers   demir   id’d   their   parents .      (   plot   twist .....    they’re   alive  ..   )  

aiyla   was   eleven   when   her   parents   died ,      being   left   to   be   raised   by   her   brothers   and   parents   friends .      the   last   interactions   she   had   with   her   parents   weren’t   the   greatest ,      her   father   and   her   arguing ,      him   telling   her   she’d   never   amount   to   anything   and   that   she   was   a   disappointment .      while   her   mother   pleaded   with   aiyla   to   stop   angering   her   father   and   to   walk   away   to   lessen   the   damage   to   their   relationship ,      promising   they’d   sort   it   out   when   they   returned .    

after   the   accident   her   brothers   started   to   grow   distant ,      each   focusing   on  their   own   careers .      during   this   time   aiyla   focused   on   school ,     once   graduating   she   took   on   the   sözeri   foundation   in   honour   of   her   mother .      she   focused   largely   on   humanitarian   work   and   philanthropy .

she   started   acting   to   pay   bills ,     even   though   she   was   technically   loaded   she   wanted   to   earn   her   own   money .      she   had   pointers   from   her  grandmother   who   was   a   famous   turkish   movie   star   and   aiyla’s   notoriety   grew   from   her   first   film .

♡     ◞        𝑴𝑶𝑹𝑬  ,   𝘵𝘩𝘦   𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘤𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘯𝘴 .

doesn’t   care   about   her   fame   all   that   much ,      you’ll   one   hundred   percent   find   her   out   and   about   doing   mundane   things .      but   it’s   also   because   she   doesn’t   quite   understand   the   level   of   her   popularity   either .

she   uses   her   appearances   and   social   media   accounts   to   advertise   important   charities   and   bring   attention   to   conflicts   in   foreign   countries   and   their   displaced   citizens .

wants   to   do   more   movies   in   turkish ,      has   only   done   one    thus   far .

has   citizenship   in   the   united   states ,     turkey   and   cambodia   (   this   was   awarded   to   her   in   recognition   of   her   environmental   and   conservation   work   in   the   country .   )

aiyla   has   walked   in   new   york   fashion   week   as   well   as   fashion   week   in   milan ,     media   drawing   comparisons   to   her   late   supermodel   mom .

is   currently   dating   dylan   rain .

[cleverhottubmiracle]

We independently evaluate all recommended products and services. Any products or services put forward appear in no particular order. if you click on links we provide, we may receive compensation. Introduction Chris Hemsworth—the Australian powerhouse known for his role as Thor—embodies more than just cinematic might. Off-screen, his wardrobe tells a story of effortless confidence, blending laid-back coastal vibes with sharp tailoring. Whether he’s walking a red carpet or grabbing coffee in Byron Bay, Hemsworth’s style is a shining example of striking the perfect balance between relaxed and refined. His fashion evolution mirrors his ascent in Hollywood, moving from surfer-chic ensembles to polished, statement-making looks that have cemented his status as a modern style icon. Let’s dive into what makes Chris Hemsworth style so magnetic and how you can channel it in your own wardrobe. Why Chris Hemsworth Style Matters Gage Skidmore, CC BY-SA 3.0, via Wikimedia Commons Chris Hemsworth’s approach to fashion resonates because it strikes a chord between universal appeal and personal expression. His style isn’t about chasing trends but perfecting the basics and adding a signature twist. His film roles showcase this same versatility. In Rush (2013), he portrayed Formula 1 driver James Hunt with 1970s glamour and swagger. Extraction (2020) saw him embody a gritty mercenary aesthetic that influenced tactical-inspired fashion. As Thor in the Marvel films (2011-2022), his mix of warrior armor and casual wear created a new template for superhero style both on and off screen. As a style icon, Hemsworth has redefined modern masculinity, blending rugged charm with a polished edge, inspiring not only his fans but also the fashion industry at large. TL;DR: Key Takeaways from Chris Hemsworth Style Guywelch2000, CC BY 4.0, via Wikimedia Commons Chris Hemsworth style effortlessly blends simplicity and sophistication. He combines perfectly tailored basics with bold accents and signature accessories to create a look that’s aspirational yet achievable. Simplicity with Personality: Think fitted black tees paired with slim chinos, as seen in his off-duty outfits. Balance is Key: Hemsworth contrasts casual sneakers with structured blazers for a modern twist. Details Matter: Accessories like minimalist watches or leather bracelets elevate his looks. Wardrobe Essentials Eva Rinaldi, CC BY-SA 2.0, via Wikimedia Commons To replicate Chris Hemsworth outfits, focus on key staples that define his wardrobe. These pieces are versatile, timeless, and rooted in practicality. Tailored Blazers Why It’s Essential: Hemsworth’s red carpet looks often feature perfectly tailored blazers that emphasize his athletic build. Visual Example: At the 2019 Men in Black: International premiere, he rocked a textured grey blazer with a crisp white shirt. How to Incorporate: Invest in a slim-fit blazer in neutral tones like grey, navy, or black. Pair it with dark jeans for smart-casual occasions. Slim-Fit Tees Why It’s Essential: Hemsworth’s off-duty style relies on basics like black and white fitted tees. Visual Example: Seen strolling in Byron Bay, Hemsworth has sported a black tee and beige chinos combo that was effortlessly cool. How to Incorporate: Choose high-quality cotton tees and ensure a snug fit on the shoulders and arms. Leather Jackets Why It’s Essential: A leather jacket adds edge to any outfit. Visual Example: Hemsworth paired a sleek black leather jacket with dark jeans for a night out in Los Angeles. How to Incorporate: Opt for a minimalist design and wear it over a tee or sweater for instant cool. White Sneakers Why It’s Essential: Clean white sneakers are a go-to in Chris Hemsworth street style. Visual Example: His pairing of white sneakers with a navy bomber jacket was spotted on an NYC outing. How to Incorporate: Choose leather sneakers for durability and style. Signature Accessories Gage Skidmore from Peoria, AZ, United States of America, CC BY-SA 2.0, via Wikimedia Commons Accessories are the unsung heroes of Chris Hemsworth style. They add subtle personality and polish to his looks. Minimalist Watches What Makes It Unique: Hemsworth opts for sleek, understated timepieces that reflect his modern sensibilities. How to Incorporate: Look for brands offering clean designs with leather or metal straps. Leather Bracelets What Makes It Unique: Hemsworth’s occasional use of leather wristbands adds a rugged touch to his outfits. How to Incorporate: Pair a simple leather bracelet with casual looks for a relaxed vibe. Sunglasses What Makes It Unique: Whether aviators or wayfarers, his sunglasses are always classic and well-fitted. How to Incorporate: Invest in polarized lenses that suit your face shape for both style and practicality. Notable Style Moments Eva Rinaldi, CC BY-SA 2.0, via Wikimedia Commons Chris Hemsworth’s wardrobe is brimming with iconic looks that have left an indelible mark on modern men’s fashion. 2019 Avengers: Endgame Premiere The Look: A striking three-piece navy suit with a subtle paisley pattern. Why It Worked: The tailored fit highlighted his physique while the pattern added depth. How to Adapt: Choose suits with textured fabrics for formal events. Casual Chic in Byron Bay The Look: A relaxed white linen shirt paired with beige chinos and sandals. Why It Worked: This outfit embodied his coastal roots and love for comfort. How to Adapt: Linen shirts are perfect for summer—pair with tailored shorts or chinos. NYC Street Style The Look: A navy bomber jacket, slim black jeans, and white sneakers. Why It Worked: The bomber added structure to an otherwise casual ensemble. How to Adapt: A good bomber jacket is versatile for transitional weather. Grooming and Presentation Benjamin Ellis, CC BY-SA 2.0, via Wikimedia Commons Chris Hemsworth style wouldn’t be complete without attention to grooming. His short, textured haircuts are a signature feature, often styled to look effortless yet polished. Using a matte styling cream, Hemsworth achieves a natural texture that works seamlessly with his laid-back aesthetic. This haircut is versatile, complementing both casual and formal looks. His beard maintenance is equally meticulous. Hemsworth’s neatly trimmed beard enhances his strong jawline and adds a rugged charm to his overall appearance. He likely uses a quality beard trimmer to maintain a consistent length and beard oil to keep the hair soft and hydrated. Together, his hairstyle and beard form the foundation of his confident and polished image. Confidence is another hallmark of Hemsworth’s presentation. Whether he’s on a red carpet or photographed at the beach, his relaxed posture and easy smile exude a charisma that amplifies the impact of every outfit he wears. It’s a reminder that grooming and style go hand in hand to create a cohesive and compelling look. Styling Tips for Today Binay babu, CC BY-SA 4.0, via Wikimedia Commons To channel Chris Hemsworth’s timeless looks into your own wardrobe, consider these expanded tips: Pair Classics with Trends: One of Hemsworth’s strengths is blending timeless wardrobe staples with modern, trendy pieces. For instance, he might pair a classic leather jacket with tapered joggers, creating a look that feels fresh yet grounded. When incorporating trends, focus on subtle elements like contemporary cuts or colors that work harmoniously with your existing basics. Experiment with Seasonal Updates: Hemsworth’s wardrobe evolves with the seasons. In the colder months, he’s often seen layering lightweight knits under tailored blazers, a look that’s both functional and stylish. For spring and summer, he switches to linen shirts and chinos, ensuring comfort without sacrificing style. Consider rotating fabrics and layering techniques to adapt your wardrobe to the season. Stick to Neutrals: Hemsworth’s color palette leans heavily on versatile neutrals like navy, grey, white, and beige. These shades create a cohesive wardrobe that’s easy to mix and match. To emulate this, start with neutral basics and gradually add bolder accents, like a patterned shirt or colored sneakers, to keep your look dynamic. Conclusion Chris Hemsworth style isn’t about following rules—it’s about confidence, balance, and attention to detail. By mastering the basics, adding your personal touch, and investing in quality pieces, you can channel the same effortless charm that has made him a global style icon. Ready to upgrade your wardrobe? Take a cue from Hemsworth’s playbook, and make every outfit a testament to your confidence and individuality. The editorial team at FashionBeans is your trusted partner in redefining modern men’s style. Established in 2007, FashionBeans has evolved into a leading authority in men’s fashion, with millions of readers seeking practical advice, expert insights, and real-world inspiration for curating their wardrobe and lifestyle.Our editorial team combines over 50 years of collective experience in fashion journalism, styling, and retail. Each editor brings specialized expertise—from luxury fashion and sustainable style to the latest grooming technology and fragrance science. With backgrounds ranging from GQ and Esquire to personal styling for celebrities, our team ensures every recommendation comes from a place of deep industry knowledge. Source link

[reapxrs]

𝑪𝑯𝑨𝑹𝑨𝑪𝑻𝑬𝑹 𝑺𝑯𝑬𝑬𝑻

𝐛𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐬 !

FULL  NAME.    Shamira Hadar Nejem NICKNAME.   Mira, Mir, Dahlia, Dahl GENDER.    Cis woman HEIGHT. 5’7.75” AGE. 26 ZODIAC.  Sagittarius SPOKEN  LANGUAGES. English, Hebrew, ASL, some Spanish

𝐩𝐡𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐬 !

HAIR  COLOR.    black EYE  COLOR.    Dark brown SKIN  TONE.    13 BODY  TYPE.    Slim and toned, like a coiled spring. VOICE.    Higher than expected, almost melodic, surprisingly quick to laugh, unsurprisingly quick to turn harsh. DOMINANT  HAND.    Right POSTURE.    A constant challenge; shoulders back, chin up, arms crossed or hands in her pockets. Her weight is almost always on her toes, ready to run. SCARS.    A faded blotch on her inner right arm where she got burnt with candle wax as a child TATTOOS.    Scythe on left shoulder, handle stretching half to her elbow, a faded black band around her left ring finger, Calla’s full name in Hebrew over her heart, ‘tikkun olam motherfucker’ on her right forearm BIRTHMARKS.    none MOST  NOTICEABLE  FEATURE(S).   freckles. Her wife certainly loves them.

𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐝 !

PLACE  OF  BIRTH.   NYC HOMETOWN.   Williamsburg, Brooklyn SIBLINGS. Uriah Nejem, younger brother. PARENTS.   Adara Nejem, mother. Mikhael Nejem, father.

𝐚𝐝𝐮𝐥𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞 !

OCCUPATION.   Manager (paper-wranglerer) for her and Calla’s mechanic shop. CURRENT  RESIDENCE.  Spacious 2-bedroom condo above the shop. CLOSE  FRIENDS.   Freesia, Daisy. RELATIONSHIP  STATUS.  Married to Calla FINANCIAL  STATUS.     If anything happened to Rose’s money, she and Calla could support themselves on their income, but it wouldn’t be terribly comfortable. DRIVER’S  LICENSE.  Yes CRIMINAL  RECORD.   Under her name, disturbing the peace. Not under her name, threat of bodily harm, assault, destruction of property. VICES.   Homemade sufganiyot.

𝐬𝐞𝐱 & 𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 !

SEXUAL  ORIENTATION. Wibbly-wobbly. PREFERRED  EMOTIONAL  ROLE. submissive |  dominant  | switch. PREFERRED  SEXUAL  ROLE.    submissive  | dominant|  switch. LIBIDO.    Generally low, but easy to ignite. TURN  ONS.    Her wife being affectionate, Very Good Food, when her wife (and most people, but specifically her wife) wear work coveralls tied at her waist TURN  OFFS.     Antisemitism, bigotry in general, mansplaining LOVE  LANGUAGE.  receiving gifts RELATIONSHIP  TENDENCIES.    Well, she’s married, and Calla’s been her only real relationship, so.

𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐞𝐨𝐮𝐬 !

CHARACTER’S  THEME  SONG.   “Vox Populi”, 30 Seconds to Mars HOBBIES  TO  PASS TIME. She’ll people-watch from the garage office and sketch those who catch her attention. It’s very loose and sketchy, but recognizable. MENTAL  ILLNESSES. Genetic PTSD LEFT  OR  RIGHT  BRAINED.     Fairly even PHOBIAS. Young white men in loose coats, older white men in ballcaps and/or camo print. SELF  CONFIDENCE  LEVEL.  Fairly high, but not so she’s full of herself. VULNERABILITIES.    Calla, Daisy, Freesia, her beliefs.

[treelightcitystory]

Character Chart 

Character’s full name: Brittany Elle Ambers

Reason or meaning of name: Strong

Character’s nickname: Britt, Bri

Reason for nickname: short for Brittany

Birthdate: 4/21/96

Physical appearance

Age: 18

How old does he/she appear: 19

Weight: 108 lbs

Height: 5’7 ft

Body build: Slim

Shape of face: Diamond

Eye color: Cloudy Grey

Glasses or contacts: None

Skin tone: Porcelain

Distinguishing marks: Her hair color

Predominant features: Her grey eyes

Hair color: Platinum Blonde

Type of hair: Bangs swept to left side

Hairstyle: Short

Voice: Honeyed

Overall attractiveness: Her smirk

Physical disabilities: None

Usual fashion of dress: Light pink shirt-skirt, blue compris, blue-gray shoes

Favorite outfit: Biege sweater, white undershirt, jeans, boots

Jewelry or accessories: None

Personality

Good personality traits: Intelligent, Passionate, Creative, Devoted, Integrity

Bad personality traits: Bossy, Defiant, Whiny

Mood character is most often in: Bright

Sense of humor: Yes

Character’s greatest joy in life: Being herself without her parents around

Character’s greatest fear: Her family discovering her secret

Why? They’re all kinds of phobic

What single event would most throw this character’s life into complete turmoil? Treelight City getting discovered; her parents finding out her biggest secret

Character is most at ease when: Being herself; around the people who truly love her as she is

Most ill at ease when: Being around her parents; trapped under pressure

Enraged when: someone (mainly Michael) insults the people who had helped her when she least expected it

Depressed or sad when: her parents putting so much pressure on her to be the perfect daughter

Priorities: Her mental health; her friends’ safety

Life philosophy: 

“Focus on making yourself better, not on thinking that you are better.” 

― Bohdi Sanders, The Secrets of Worldly Wisdom: Your Key to Unlocking Success

If granted one wish, it would be: To get away from her home the moment she graduates high school

Why? Her parents had made her miserable under their roof

Character’s soft spot: For Ginger (months after story)

Is this soft spot obvious to others? Yes; to her friends

Greatest strength: Her friends

Greatest vulnerability or weakness: Pressure to be the perfect daughter

Biggest regret: Letting her parents ruin her childhood

Minor regret: Standing up to them when confronted

Biggest accomplishment: Winning her first science fair

Minor accomplishment: Gaining the Daleville Gang’s trust after standing up to Michael

Past failures he/she would be embarrassed to have people know about: None 

Why? She’s always pressured to impress her family

Character’s darkest secret: Has a lesbian sexuality

Does anyone else know? No

Goals

Drives and motivations: Be Acknowledged

Immediate goals: Prove her loyalty to the Daleville Gang (during story)

Long term goals: Excel in science/biology career

How the character plans to accomplish these goals: Study as far away from her home and parents as possible

How other characters will be affected: Parents will not approve, but unable to stop her; friends will support her

Past

Hometown: New York City, New York

Type of childhood: Full of pressure

Pets: None

First memory: Her parents’ faces

Most important childhood memory: watching Bill Nye's show

Why: Where her love for science and technology came from

Childhood hero: Bill Nye

Dream job: Biologist/technologist

Education: NYC Kindergarten

Religion: Christian

Finances: None

Present 

Current location: Daleville, Alabama

Currently living with: Her family

Pets: None

Religion: Christian (formerly)

Occupation: High School Student

Finances: College fund (building on her own)

Family

Mother: Bryce Ambers

Relationship with her: Biological

Father: Adrien Ambers

Relationship with him: Biological

Siblings: Juliette Ambers

Relationship with them: Biological

Spouse: N/A

Relationship with him/her: N/A

Children: N/A

Relationship with them: N/A

Other important family members: strained relationship with both her father’s and mother’s sides

Favorites 

Color: Purple

Least favorite color: Black

Music: Pop

Food: Meringue

Literature: Sci-Fi, Thriller

Form of entertainment: Movies

Expressions: “What the WHAT?!” 

Mode of transportation: Mercedes

Most prized possession: Her chemistry and technology tools

Habits

Hobbies: Chemistry, Computer Tech

Plays a musical instrument? No

Plays a sport? No

How he/she would spend a rainy day: Practice computer tech

Spending habits: Mild

Smokes: No

Drinks: No

Other drugs: N/A

What does he/she do too much of? Trying to please people

What does he/she do too little of? Standing up for herself

Extremely skilled at: Chemisty, technology, science (all forms)

Extremely unskilled at: Gardening

Nervous tics: Tapping foot

Usual body posture: Back straight, head held high

Mannerisms: Her family’s wealthy lifestyle

Peculiarities: Her love for chemistry and tech science

Traits 

Optimist or pessimist? Optimist

Introvert or extrovert? Extrovert

Daredevil or cautious? Cautious

Logical or emotional? Logical

Disorderly and messy or methodical and neat? Methodical and neat

Prefers working or relaxing? Prefers working

Confident or unsure of himself/herself? Confident of herself (although a bit unsure)

Animal lover? Yes

Self-perception 

How he/she feels about himself/herself: Feels like she has a purpose to please everyone to keep her hobbies a secret

One word the character would use to describe self: Intelligent

One paragraph description of how the character would describe self: With a hidden secret and a wealthy, yet suffocating life, Brittany is not the type of mean girl people would imagine. 

What does the character consider his/her best personality trait? Her intelligence

What does the character consider his/her worst personality trait? Her insecurity

What does the character consider his/her best physical characteristic? Her blonde hair

What does the character consider his/her worst physical characteristic? Her grey eyes

How does the character think others perceive him/her: As a rich daughter of an influential tycoon

What would the character most like to change about himself/herself: Her tendency to please her parents

Relationships with others

Opinion of other people in general: No matter how much wealth they have, the purity of their soul is what matters

Does the character hide his/her true opinions and emotions from others? Only from her parents

Person character most hates: Michael James

Best friend(s): Daleville Gang (progressing later on in story)

Love interest(s): Ginger (months after story ends)

Person character goes to for advice: School counselor (has free passes because of family’s class status)

Person character feels responsible for or takes care of: Juliette, her younger sister

Person character feels shy or awkward around: Ginger (during first time in Treelight City)

Person character openly admires: Ginger (upon first meeting)

Person character secretly admires: Ginger (only Daleville Gang and Treelightains know)

Most important person in character’s life before story starts: Juliette

After story starts: Juliette, Daleville Gang, and Treelight City

[thursdaygxrls]

Congrats on starting college soon! I hope you have an easy time adjusting and that you have loads of fun!!

Could I please get a teddy bear and coffee? I didn't see anything about not requesting two prompts at once but if that's a rule, I'm really sorry! Feel free to ignore any one of the two!

Stranger things for the teddy bear please!

My pronouns are she/her and I don't have a gender preference

Physical description - I'm 5'9 and I have long and curly dark brown hair and brown eyes. I have a fair skin tone, I'm slim and I've got full lips and fairly large eyes. I also have these dimples that I really like!

I love reading, my favorite genres are poetry, Russian lit, and mysteries! I love learning about new things and knowing a little bit of everything. I adore adventures, witty and playful banter, joking around and having indepth discussions on anything and everything! I adore all forms of art and I have quite a few creative hobbies! I listen to a lot of modern/indie rock and I love watching films very much! It takes me a while to feel comfortable around new people but once I do, I become really talkative and outgoing. I love helping out and I'm the therapist friend, people come to me to vent or for advice and comfort. I'm smart and ambitious; I love being the best at everything I do. I'm quite the hopeless romantic and I love being in love! I adore big and small romantic gestures and I love domesticity sm!! My love languages are acts of service and quality time. I'm a ravenclaw, my mbti is infp and my enneagram is 4w3!

Tysm ❤️

join my nyc event!

in my opinion, i’d ship you with…

steve harrington!

i think being a hopeless romantic and loving affection really fits with steve

same with the domesticity!!!! he canonically wants a big family

but even if you don’t want kids, he’s so husband

hugs from behind!!!

he most definitely comes home with little gifts and stuff and is like “this reminded me of you :))))”

also when you talk abt the book you’re reading he’s def gonna be staring at you like you’re a rocket scientist

and, in my opinion, you remind me of…

rory gilmore!

let me be clear, i’m talking about CHILTON rory, the one who didn’t cheat on boyfriends/homewreck

first, rory loves russian lit

being smart & ambitious are VERY rory

also, she’s big on movies & music & reading (as said before) so i feel like you share a lot of interests

she’s also sort of shy before you get to know her

you just give me a lot of rory vibes

[sparklingfireflyy]

Success Stories 1 :

🌸🌸 Lists : 🌸🌸

Success story list 1

Reddit success story

Success story list 2

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Success story list 7

🌸🌸 Appearance : 🌸🌸

Desired face

Multiple appearance change

Changed gender

Desired face with Sats in 3 days

Angel skull + Mini glow up

Desired appearance

Desired face with silly method

Grew 4 inches

Fairy like nose

Multiple appearance change

Dream face + body + Height

Complete appearance change

Sharp Jawline

Desired face

Multiple appearance change

Pale Skin

Eye color change

2 inches height decrease

Weight loss

Longer and lighter hair

Increased height from 5' to 6'

Never gaining weight + weight loss

🌸🌸 Multiples : 🌸🌸

Got out of toxic household + rented apartment+ 500k + popularity

$15 million + cars +appartments + penthouse + dancing skills + desired face + desired body + language fluency + health of family + desired friends group etc

Gucci bags + necklace + desired face + desired body + journals + cloths + sp back

6 bedroom house + never having financial issue + multiple appearance + being fertile

Laptop + desired appearance + accessories + desired apartment + desired car + cured addiction etc

Apology from ex + desired body and looks + guitar skills + full marks + better social life + Charismatic personality

Appearance + skills + material manifestations

Desired face + body + money + job + college degree + eyesight + heath + moving to nyc + shifting + wardrobe

Appearance + academics + life + manifestation

Better home situation + £500 + desired appearance + better grades

Desired appearance + personality + family + materialistic stuff

Desired body + desired face + moving out + friends + personality + self concept + void

2 million in cash + new wardrobe + pink tesla + new apartment + desired face and body + revising past grades + $150, 000 etc.

Safety + money + house + family + moving in with bf

Changing birthday + straight teeth + girlfriend + food + changing weather power + food + all A's + a new house + revising parents job etc.

Losing 20 lbs + small nose + a cat + becoming good singer + winning lottery + family etc

Perfect self concept + going in void + revision + appearance change + shifting

Changing birthday + changing name + changing birthplace + fluency in many languages + desired friends + desired parents

Face shape + narrow lips + food + perfect grades + toxic friends out of life

Seeing no. 555 + 100k + big lips + flat belly + online business blowing up

DESIRED friends group + boyfriend + body and face + birthplace + birthday

Bigger lips + healed relationship with bf + better skin

Smaller waist + longer legs + smaller v shaped face + printed working

Dream body + mom getting high pay job + getting out of abusive household + high grades + confidence

Moving to nyc + religious freedom + parent's job + karma to bullies + luck + desired boyfriend + desired appearance + high grades + money etc.

Test cancellation + perfect self concept + height increase + subscribers and views + food + lots more

No social anxiety + changing eye color + taller height + weight loss + better digestive system + nuggets etc.

Self concept + better mental health + good at maths + loving parents etc.

Manifested appearance + desired face and body + prefect grades + leaving toxic friends group + getting along with siblings

Self concept + thick eyebrows + silky hair + eye shape and eye lashes + desired skin tone + slim body + hairless arms

Clear skin + angel numbers + food + high grades + longer lashes

Being triplet + revised state + ideal parents

Clear skin + height increase + eye colour change + short nose + good family + listening exact words from crush

Appearance + dream car + laptop + piano + skills and talent + boyfriend + makeup products etc.

Kpop idol looks + talent + passing audition

🌸🌸 Illogical : 🌸🌸

Wings with sats

Dead dog alive again

Dead cat alive again

Mom back to life

🌸🌸 Void : 🌸🌸

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🌸🌸 Others : 🌸🌸

Revised grades

Idk

Revised grades to A+

[soft-bellied-tannies]

Poorly Kept Secrets

Read here or on AO3!

Taehyung has never hidden the fact that he had no interest in fitness. His boyfriends never minded - having that time together and then different hobbies or interests with Taehyung. It wouldn’t be as noticeable, but Taehyung was dating what he would consider two fitness gurus. Jimin owned a dance studio with Hoseok, spending the majority of his day training and dancing with his students. Jungkook was a personal trainer who split his time between high-interval training, weight lifting, and boxing.

While they were all toned and trim, Taehyung was comfortably soft. He worked from home as an illustrator for children’s books and preferred to watch a drama over going to the gym. His boyfriends were sweet - they never judged and told him that his body can be however he likes as long as he is happy.

Taehyung knew that the main reason he was still fairly slim was his metabolism and their balanced diet. Jimin did most of the cooking and even though their fitness guys, Jungkook and Jimin both enjoyed food. If they wanted ramen instead of a salad, they were going to have it. They simply prioritized getting in their proper nutrients to keep their energy up for work while also indulging in their favorite foods.

During their fifth year together, Taehyung received an interesting opportunity to go work with a publishing team in New York City for an author that wanted to meet him and see his work in person before agreeing to bring him on the project. He didn’t love the idea of being away from his partners for nearly three weeks, but Taehyung liked the author and thought his style could fit the book series well so he went.

A few nights into his trip, the three were on a video call when Taehyung said something that piqued his boyfriends’ interest. He had told them he was disappointed in his tight schedule in NYC because he would have loved to do a food tour of popular restaurants. While that was understandable, his next comment is what sent Jimin into a new headspace.

“Man, if I actually had free time while I was here, I’d probably come home ten pounds heavier.”

Jungkook had laughed, agreeing with his boyfriend that he would be the same way. Jimin giggled and gave his attention until the conversation ended, but once they hung up, he turned to Jungkook and looked to be deep in thought.

“What’s up, Minnie?”

“I just…did you see Tae’s face when he said that?”

“Said what? That he wanted to do a food tour because I would honestly be pretty disappointed to miss out on that too, but I’m sure he’s still happy to be there,” Jungkook replied, assuming that Jimin was concerned with Taehyung’s enjoyment of the trip.

Jimin shook his head, contemplating if he was overthinking or jumping to conclusions. He knew Jungkook would be honest with him so he decided to go for it. “No, I’m sure he is happy too. It was actually when he said something about gaining weight. His face…he just looked, I don’t know, like he wanted to gain those ten pounds.”

“Huh…I mean, yeah, I guess he did,” Jungkook said, thinking back to the conversation and realizing that Jimin is right. It honestly wasn’t even surprising to consider that Taehyung liked the softness - he is actually pretty open about his tummy appreciation.

“Do you think he…does he feel like we won’t like it if he gains weight?”

Jungkook wrapped his arm around Jimin’s shoulder and kissed his temple. He knew that Jimin would spiral over something like this if he thought Taehyung was even slightly unhappy. “Baby, I am certain that Taehyung knows we love him no matter what. I think he just goes with the flow.”

Jimin was quiet for a moment, thinking yet again but also comforted by Jungkook. “What if we helped?”

“Helped how?”

Jimin shrugged, looking a little embarrassed that he was even bringing it up. “Maybe give him more snacks or bigger servings. We could test it out when he gets back and see if he reacts positively. The minute he makes any mention of not enjoying it, we stop.”

Jungkook thought it over and couldn’t seem to find a downside. “Yeah, okay, could be fun. It would be cute if he doesn’t even notice.”

Jimin laughed and shook his head, “I’m sure he will be onto us right away.”

—

Upon Taehyung’s return home, he was smothered with love by his boyfriends who so desperately missed him. Jungkook encouraged him to shower while he unpacked his bags for him. Jimin was making all of Taehyung’s favorite dishes for dinner to celebrate his return.

Taehyung thought nothing of it considering his boyfriends were absolute sweethearts. Jimin had a reputation for spoiling them both so it was pretty expected to see the table full of kalbi, japchae, sweet potatoes, and little banchan dishes. “Wow, Minnie, this looks delicious. Thank you!”

Jimin accepted the kiss with a laugh, determined to keep that cute smile on his boyfriend’s face forever. He took Taehyung’s plate and put just a bit more of each serving than he typically would, piling it up with food. If his boyfriend said anything about the amount of food he was given, Jimin was simply going to reason that he just had a long flight and deserved it - however, Taehyung accepted the plate with a smile and tucked right in.

Jungkook ate well too, having trained two extra clients that day so he had been starving when he got home from work. His large appetite seemed to be a welcome push for Taehyung who actually refilled his serving of japchae and sweet potatoes to Jimin’s surprise. They talked about his trip which seemed to be enough conversation to stop him from realizing how much he had eaten. Jimin had been finished for quite some time while he watched the other two enjoy the dinner he made.

Once Taehyung seemed to be slowing down, Jimin went to the fridge and grabbed a strawberry cake. It was one of Taehyung’s favorite things that Jimin made so it went with the meal properly. “I made a cake for you too. It’s the strawberry one you like.”

“Oh my gosh, Minnie, I love you. I honestly don’t think I could eat another bite right now, but I promise it won’t go to waste,” Taehyung replied, still not suspecting a thing since it seemed like a normal Jimin act of service for his boyfriends.

“That’s fine, baby. It’ll be in the fridge whenever you want it.”

Jungkook hopped up to help Jimin clear the table, offering to do the dishes. Taehyung sat back momentarily, letting out a deep breath as his fullness finally hit. He looked up to make sure his boyfriends weren’t looking and rubbed over the top which was rounded out with the evidence of his dinner packed inside.

With more effort needed than he expected, Taehyung hoisted himself out of his chair to bring his dishes to the sink. He kissed Jimin’s cheek as another show of gratitude for the amazing meal his boyfriend prepared before he was instructed to go find a movie or a drama to watch while Jimin changed clothes and Jungkook cleaned up.

Jimin returned from their bedroom and he was caught off guard by the sight in front of him. Taehyung was leaning back against the couch, one hand on his lower stomach resting while his other hand rubbed gently at the crest of his belly bloated with dinner. He had an older white t-shirt on that usually was form-fitting, but it was now clinging to his taut skin. Not wanting to interrupt, Jimin went to the kitchen first to grab some drinks and share his discovery with Jungkook who tried to sneak a glimpse from the kitchen.

When Jimin came back to the living room, Taehyung was no longer in that position and was covered up with a blanket as he scrolled through their shows. Jimin put some water, soju, and cherry coke on the table - free for anyone to take. They looked through the show options together for about fifteen minutes before Taehyung shifted next to him, looking back towards the kitchen.

“Hey, Gguk?”

“Yeah, babe?”

“Would you mind bringing some of the cake when you’re done?”

“Of course. Minnie, you want some, baby?”

“Yes, please!”

“Okay, three slices of cake, coming up!”

Taehyung laughed at Jungkook’s silly voice he put on at the end as if he was taking their order, not noticing how the request was affecting Jimin who had genuinely not expected Taehyung to even touch the cake that night. He was definitely not complaining, but he had barely digested his own food and he had eaten a third of what Taehyung had.

Jungkook was quite generous with his servings of cake, knowing very well that he was pushing the limits. Taehyung happily accepted the cake and started digging in as they watched the movie he selected. Jimin was eating slowly which was not out of the norm, but this time it was from the distraction of watching Taehyung eat.

Jimin waited until Taehyung only had a few bites left before offering his over, nearly half of the slice left. “Tae, you want the rest of mine? I’m so full and I was snacking on the berries the entire time I was cooking so I think I’m over the taste of them,” he said with a laugh, actually telling the truth.

“Oh, sure! That’s what you get for your cooking snacks, Min,” Taehyung teased as he took the last bite of his own slice to accept Jimin’s plate.

“Snacks are the best part of cooking,” Jimin replied, giggling so much that he leaned into Taehyung’s side. Both of his boyfriends watched him with endeared expressions. He kept his spot on Taehyung’s shoulder even while he worked his way through the next piece of cake, having to restrain himself from rubbing Taehyung’s belly which was getting tighter with each bite.

Jungkook offered the cherry coke to Taehyung when he leaned forward to grab the water. After his last bite of Jimin’s cake, Taehyung took a long drink of coke which topped off his belly to his absolute limit. Taehyung had not eaten that much before, but he would admit that it felt great.

Jimin switched their position so Taehyung’s head was tucked against his shoulder, gently running his fingers through his boyfriend’s hair. “You okay, love?”

“Yeah, just feeling full. I guess I really missed having homecooked meals while I was gone,” Taehyung admitted, trying to understand the feeling for himself while also being lulled into a food coma with Jimin’s tender scalp massage.

“I’m glad you enjoyed it. I missed cooking for you,” Jimin replied, trying to sound innocent in his intentions. He continued his little motions until Taehyugn fell asleep. Jimin immediately looked at Jungkook who had also found the night interesting, both sharing a knowing look that this plan was going very well so far.

—

Two months went by quickly and although they had not had another night like Taehyung’s welcome home, Jimin and Jungkook had certainly worked out a system. Jungkook had made a cute little snack basket for Taehyung’s office when his boyfriend mentioned getting distracted by his work to the point of missing lunch sometimes. Jimin had been beefing up Taehyung’s portions at various meals without it being obvious - an extra egg or two in his omelets, doubling his meat or veggies - and maintaining a healthy balance.

Taehyung’s middle had undoubtedly shown the most results, his soft tummy burgeoning into a pudgy belly. While the weight did distribute a little bit, it seemed that his stomach was the main landing place of his new weight. Jimin and Jungkook both agreed that the one downside of their plan was the lacking of feeling him up, both wanting to get their hands on him but not wanting to give away their current plan.

Jimin entered the bedroom one morning, intrigued by huffing coming from their closet. “Tae, everything okay, baby?” he asked, walking in to find his boyfriend fighting to get one of Jungkook’s hoodies to fit correctly. He had to utilize every ounce of his willpower to not comment on how amazing Taehyung looked.

“Just wanted to wear one of Gguk’s hoodies and I realized that I may be getting a little…chunky,” Taehyung said as he gripped a handful of his stomach, not sounding sad but more disappointed about the sweatshirt in particular.

Completely on the fly, Jimin remedied the situation. He was thankful that Taehyung picked a hoodie that was inconspicuous enough to get by convincing him it was his. “Well, first of all, it probably helps if you actually picked one of his. That’s mine, Tae,” he said, absolutely lying through his teeth.

“Oh, really? It didn’t have a tag, but I assumed all the gym hoodies were his.”

“That’s a dance studio, babe, not a gym,” Jimin said with a laugh as that part of his story was true. He and Jungkook both had hoodies from a friend’s dance studio called The Lab, however, Jimin knew that his was hanging on a hook in his office at the dance studio right now meaning that Taehyung was most definitely wearing Jungkook’s and it was definitely a little snug.

Taehyung blushed slightly, embarrassed about being called out on his mistake. Sometimes he felt bad for not fully knowing about the dance world even though he supported Jimin with his whole heart. He stood and watched Jimin grab another hoodie from Jungkook’s section of the closet, handing it over to him with a smile and a kiss on the cheek.

“Try this one, love,” Jimin instructed, watching as Taehyung took off the first hoodie with a bit of struggle. He purposefully picked one of Jungkook’s that he knew was well oversized, his boyfriend’s preference for his clothes. The hoodie went on perfectly fine, even hiding a bit of Taehyung’s new size under the baggy garment. “See, perfectly fine. You are not getting chunky or whatever you said. Everyone gains a little relationship weight after a while, it means that we are happy, right?”

Taehyung nodded, accepting Jimin’s kiss and watching his petite boyfriend leave their bedroom after the little pep talk. Honestly, Taehyung could care less if he was gaining weight. He loved feeling full of Jimin’s homecooked meals, the warm weight around his middle actually made him feel pretty incredible.

But, he also wasn’t blind - he had most certainly put on weight. The scale had been creeping up a little more than usual over the past few weeks. He had always hovered around 150, fluctuating at times, but he always stayed in that area. Since his return from America, the number has only gone up; his latest weigh-in that morning read 164 - the highest it’s ever been.

Fourteen pounds wasn’t crazy in the grand scheme of things, but Taehyung could not seem to equate it back to anything he had actively done. That thought alone is what made him consider his boyfriends having a hand in it. Maybe Jungkook’s kind gesture of his office snack pile and Jimin’s generous portions were intentional. He instinctively went to leave the bedroom, planning to approach them about it when he decided that he could play their game too.

Taehyung leaned into their little efforts for the next month, noticing them more blatantly when he was actively aware of it. Jimin had definitely been serving him bigger portions or adding a bit more to his food almost unconsciously while Jungkook’s healthy snack options were often accompanied by more sugary or calorie-dense options. He was usually given his beloved cherry coke rather than them asking what he would like and the right side of the middle fridge shelf had become home to whatever dessert Jimin had made.

Jimin and Jungkook had a few conversations about it on their way to and from work on the days they could go together. They both noticed Taehyung’s more active participation as the evidence was rounding out healthy in his midsection. Jimin had told Jungkook about the hoodie situation, both laughing about it afterward at Taehyung’s easy acceptance of Jimin’s excuse. They certainly weren’t going to complain when their boyfriend was so happy.

Another two weeks went by when Taehyung had secured the biggest book deal of his career by far. A prolific children’s author was looking for a fresh hand to illustrate their upcoming ten-book series. The story and direction were totally Taehyung’s style and the paycheck was going to be huge in comparison to his normal rate. It was absolutely a cause for celebration.

Jimin and Jungkook insisted that Taehyung could ask for anything in wanted and they would make it happen - so proud of their partner for his accomplishment. Taehyung asked for a day trip to his favorite gallery in Seoul which they had expected. When Jimin asked what restaurant he should make dinner reservations at, Taehyung shocked them with his request. He hoped that Jimin would be willing to make that same dinner from his first night back after the NYC trip.

Taehyung told them it was all of his favorite foods that Jimin made just the way he liked it and they could spend a relaxing night together. Both were fully on board, preparing for Saturday all week long. Jimin made a list of all the food he needed, leaving the studio early on Friday afternoon to meet Jungkook at the grocery store.

On Saturday, their visit to the gallery was fun and they headed back home so Jimin could start cooking. Jungkook and Taehyung sat at the kitchen counter, keeping him company while he cooked and sneaking strawberries from his precious cooking snack bowl. He shooed them to set the table as he finished up and started bringing food to the table.

Jimin happily filled Taehyung’s plate high with even bigger servings than that first night. Jungkook wasn’t nearly as hungry as that first night which also meant more food for Taehyung. All three ate while making comfortable conversation, Jimin topping off Taehyung’s japchae twice while he was distracted by whatever Jungkook was saying.

As that telltale roundness at the top of Taehyung’s belly started to make an appearance, Jimin assumed that dinner was coming to a close. Much to his surprise, Taehyung asked him to pass the sweet potatoes and happily dished himself what was left in the serving dish. Jimin and Jungkook jumped into a conversation about doing a collaborative barre fitness class, something to focus on so they didn’t sit and stare at Taehyung who continued to eat.

A deep breath from their partner is what their attention back to Taehyung. He had made quick work of the sweet potatoes and looked determined to finish his japchae which had seemed bottomless thanks to Jimin’s refills. His shirt was clinging to his bloated belly, an old button-down that had already been close to being outgrown prior to dinner. He brought the plate to his mouth, scraping in the last few noodles stuck to the plate and ignoring the interested eyes directed at him.

Just as they were getting ready to clear the table, Taehyung grabbed his full glass of coke and chugged it, enjoying the tight bubble created by the carbonation on top of all his food. He had to admit that it felt amazing - so much better than the first time because he was purposefully indulging rather than not realizing what had happened.

Leaning back slightly only pushed his belly forward more and even he was a little surprised at the sight. The shirt was really giving his stomach an accentuated roundness with its fight against the buttons. Still choosing not to acknowledge it, Taehyung had to use both hands to push himself out of his chair. He took his dishes to the sink and smirked when he heard frantic whispers behind in from the dining room.

After another few seconds of whatever hushed conversation was being had, Jimin called out, “Tae, do you want to come change into something comfier before we start the movie?”

Jimin asking him that innocent question seemed to be the moment he decided to break their not-so-secret facade. He walked back to the dining room with his hand resting on top of his bloated middle. “Oh, are we skipping dessert?”

Both his partners halted their movements trying very hard to keep their composure. Jungkook recovered first, looking back at Taehyung with a soft expression. “I, uh…we just thought you might have wanted a little break. Maybe take a little time to digest.”

“Well, I was kind of hoping to see if we could pop the buttons on my shirt,” Taehyung responded with a casual shrug as if that was a normal thing for them.

Jimin dropped the plate in his hand, scrambling to pick up the mess he created from the shock he had experienced. “You…what?”

“Minnie, come on now, you think I haven’t noticed that my beloved gym bunnies are trying to fatten me up,” Taehyung replied, rubbing his hand across his stomach to ease the bubbly digestion going on. “I’m just trying to figure out who is enjoying it the most out of the three of us.”

Jungkook looked at him with a pleased smile knowing that his boyfriend was happy with the development while Jimin’s face was set with determination.

“Ggukie, can you please go get the cake?” Jimin asked sweetly, a kiss placed on Jungkook’s cheek as he passed him to take Taehyung’s hand. He guided his hefty boyfriend into one of the kitchen chairs, leaning down to kiss him. “You’re happy? With this and us?”

Taehyung’s expression softened, feeling so much love at the simple question. “Of course, baby, I wouldn’t be doing this if I was unhappy. Honestly, I don’t know if I’ve ever felt this good.”

Jimin smiled giving him another kiss that was immediately followed by one from Jungkook who had heard the interaction. They exchanged quiet ‘I love you’s with each other and paused to appreciate the moment.

After an analytical gaze over Taehyung’s body, Jimin moved closer and whispered in his ear. “You know what I think would have at least one of these buttons popping, my love?”

“Hmm?” Taehyung asked, feeling a little dazed at Jimin’s sultry tone. He never imagined a scene like this playing out in their relationship and he could not ignore how turned on he was by it all.

“You finishing the whole cake.”

“Oh shit,” Jungkook mumbled, feeling just as hot under the collar as his partners. He was happy to let Jimin take control knowing that he was the best in a dominant role.

Jimin smirked, grabbing Jungkook’s hand and bringing it to join his on Taehyung’s stomach. “See, Jungkookie thinks it’s a good idea too. Want to give it a try? For us, baby?”

Taehyung whimpered in response, never able to hold his resolve for long when Jimin was in charge. He looked up at him with what they affectionately called his ‘puppy eyes’ and nodded his head gently. “I’ll try my best.”

“I know you will, my love,” Jimin whispered closely, followed by another kiss on Taehyung’s lips because he couldn’t resist. “Would you like to feed yourself or should we do it?”

“Jungkookie. Want Gguk to do it,” Taehyung answered, as he straighten his posture in the chair getting ready for the next round of food.

Jimin handed an eager Jungkook a spoon as the younger pulled a chair up beside Taehyung. He filled the first spoonful with a huge bite and got started right away. The first third of the cake disappeared so quickly that Taehyung hadn’t even realized how much he had eaten. He knew Jungkook was the right choice because he was a quick eater himself on top of being motivated whereas he was certain Jimin would have teased him and prolonged it as much as possible.

Speaking of Jimin, Taehyung assumed he was able to eat more and more because of the little hands massaging his midsection, breaking up the air bubbles, and helping him digest as his stomach was put to the test. The waistband on his jeans felt like it was going to break skin soon with how tight they were getting. Taehyung was both annoyed and proud for choosing to wear some of his older clothes for their gallery date.

Over half the cake was gone before Taehyung asked for a break. He let out a groan and relaxed into the chair under him while panting through a few cramps. His body was reaching its limit, stretching his stomach capacity to the widest it has ever been. The two buttons holding his shirt closed over the crest of his belly were ready to give up and Taehyung was determined.

“Okay, I’m good,” Taehyung said, nodding for Jungkook to continue. His partners were honestly impressed at that point, both thinking that the whole cake was just a teasing statement and not a reality. Jimin was about to ask if he wanted to tap out, but Taehyung had his sights set on those buttons.

Jungkook continued his consistent motions of feeding Taehyung, only allowing him enough time to breathe in between bites. They both watched as Jimin walked into the kitchen, continuing with the cake until he returned with another bottle of coke in one hand and a carton of milk in the other. “I figured you may need something to drink soon. Which one would you like, baby?”

Taehyung cringed at the thought of adding more bubbles to his stomach on top of all the sugar and the milk seemed genuinely refreshing at that point. He pointed to the milk and was thankful for Jimin bringing the carton to his lips, allowing him to take a large swig to wash down the cake. He considered giving up after feeling the milk sit heavy in his stomach, but there was only a little bit of the cake left and his buttons were creaking.

Jungkook seemed to understand Taehyung’s final push, leaving the spoon in front of him for however long he needed it. Jimn noticed the heavier breathing as Taehyung forced through the last bit of cake, keeping his eyes locked on the button hanging by a thread at the roundest part of his boyfriend’s stomach.

“Last bite, babe,” Jungkook said, his own cheeks flushed from watching Taehyung finish off the entire cake. He was equally impressed and turned on by the entire evening.

Taehyung swallowed slowly, somehow still wanting to savor the last bit of cake. It was his favorite after all, but he figured Jimin would be more willing to make it now. He was desperate to pop his button so even though he knew it was going to be a regret later, Taehyung asked Jimin for more milk claiming he needed to wash down the sugar.

Jimin held the carton up to his lips, his other hand resting on Taehyung’s meaty thigh as his boyfriend chugged the milk. Jungkook and Jimin both watched in anticipation until the moment they had been waiting for finally happened. Taehyung let the milk drain down his throat and then took a deep breath, enough for his belly to ever so slightly suck in before he fully pushed it out on the exhale.

A quick rip of the thread was followed by a button landing somewhere on the hardwood floor below the dining table. Taehyung’s shirt was not gaping right in the middle, his tan skin now peaking through from underneath. He moaned at the release of pressure and felt his belly continuing to fight its way out.

Jungkook leaned in, kissing his jaw and neck without being able to form any words about what he saw. Taehyung let his partners have their way with him, too stuffed to even move. He felt Jimin’s fingers sneak along his shirt, slowly undoing the remaining buttons and gently massaging his lower stomach to encourage the food to digest. Taehyung finally felt ultimate relief when Jimin managed to get his pants unbuttoned, belly rounding out now that it wasn’t contained in his tight clothes.

“Wow, baby, look at you. This is an impressive belly you’ve grown, looking so round right now,” Jimin said, a raspy tone overtaking his voice - a clear sign of his arousal.

“Feels good,” Taehyung mumbled, still panting in relief. “Love you both so much.”

Jungkook and Jimin both returned the sentiment as they both continued their exploration of Taehyung’s body. Jimin continued his vocal appreciation as well. "I wonder how heavy you've gotten with the way that gut sticks out now."

Taehyung moaned in response to Jimin's teasing words. He knew that he was certainly the heaviest he had ever been at that current moment, but he had weighed himself that morning in anticipation of their evening. "180."

"What?" Jimin asked, his hands stilling on Taehyung's stomach. Jungkook paused his movement as well, assuming he must've misheard their partner.

"180. Weighed myself this morning," Taehyung responded, looking between them as he waited for their reactions.

Jimin looked down at his belly and then back up at him, basically in awe of the information - not expecting that number quite yet. "You gained..."

"Thirty pounds," Taehyung finished his sentence before adding, "Well, thirty as of this morning. There's an awful lot in here right now so probably sitting closer to 185 now."

Without warning, Jungkook stood and offered his hands to Taehyung who looked at him with a bit of hesitation. “Think you can make it to bed, big guy?”

Taehyung’s face flushed a deep red at the nickname and nodded while placing his hands in Jungkook’s, allowing himself to get heaved out of the chair. Standing, his belly sat in the v of his open jeans sitting so plumply round that he looked pregnant. He tried to ignore Jimin’s pleased gasp at the sight as he turned to walk down the hallway, knowing his boyfriends were going to watch his every step. Walking wasn’t quite the right word as it was more like a waddle.

Once Taehyung crossed the threshold of their bedroom, Jungkook and Jimin turned to each other with a smile. Jimin kissed Jungkook, letting it linger until he pulled back slightly and whispered, “First one to undress gets to ride him first.”

Jimin immediately took off down the hallway, stripping his shirt as he went. Jungkook called out after him, running down the hall behind Jimin while unbuckling his belt. They sprinted into the bedroom through a flurry of clothing and were met with Taehyung collapsing back onto the bed, his belly in full view. He had never felt sexier than right now - stuffed to the brim with both his partners dying to get their hands on him.

“No fighting, boys. You’ll both get a turn.”

One thing was certain, this was definitely going to be happening again. Taehyung knew that scale would say 200 in no time.

[creamytinydays]

The Crush: A Spiderman x Everlark crossover

Summary: Mild-mannered student by day, famed thief-turned-hero the Black Cat by night, Katniss Everdeen is juggling taking care of her sister and protecting New York City all while not trying to fail Criminology 101. If that weren’t complicated enough, she’s got a crush on two guys - Spiderman, and the cute nerd she sits next to her in class. What’s a girl to do?  

Unbeta’d, written quickly in the dark under a bridge like the troll I am, etc etc

Rated: M-ish? Kissing n stuff. 

Enjoy! 🕷

kpkpkpkp

I will never get sick of this. I’m hurtling through the air, as graceful as a ballerina, the alleyway a dark ribbon far below me. Jumping off of buildings used to terrify me. Now, it’s old hat.

I somersault through the air before landing lightly on the rooftop, my black boots barely making a sound on the concrete. 

Spiderman lands just a moment after I do. His toned body is wrapped up in red and blue spandex like a present. Even under the mask, I can tell he’s smiling. 

“Looks like we ruined their night,” he says, jerking his thumb to where we left two thieves webbed on the side of the building across the street. Their obnoxious voices carry across the street.

“Curse you, Spiderman!”

“God, do people really say that?" I wrinkle my nose although Spiderman can’t see under my mask. “So cliché.”

“Very unoriginal.” He laughs.

“I’m a little offended they’re not cursing me.” Granted, the Black Cat is much newer on the NYC superhero scene, but still. You’d think I’d get some credit.

Spiderman is watching me intently, and I assume he’s admiring my new costume. He’s barely kept his eyes off of it all night. I preen a little. I did a few favors for a tailor in Hell’s Kitchen, and he paid me back with this fitted all-black jumpsuit and matching cat-ear mask.

“Where to next?” I ask. The city is spread out like a maze of twinkling lights below us, and the night is young.

“Looks like this building could use some surveillance,” he says, his voice low.

“What? There’s nothing going -”

Spiderman pushes me up against a wall, his hands all over me. I lift up his mask just above his mouth and he moves mine, just high enough for our lips to touch. He kisses me hard, but I barely notice the bricks digging into my back. 

Yup. He definitely likes the new suit.

Normally I’m the one that pounces on Spiderman after patrol, but today his movements are urgent, like he wants to devour me. I am definitely not complaining. 

His slim hips press into me, making my head get fuzzy. He tastes like sugar and smells like rain. Last week, I was able to make him moan so loud it scared some pigeons. Tonight, I’ll try to make a new record.

I lick the soft skin of his neck and he groans. “You’re going to be the death of me.” 

I bite him, scraping my teeth under his ear. “Ouch, that – ahhh—”

I lift his mask even higher, but he catches my wrist.

Damn.

“Don’t you think it’s time? We’ve been partners for months,” I pout.

He jerks his mask back on and leaps onto the wall above me so he’s well out of reach. 

“Come on, don’t be like that.” I cross my arms.

“Are you ready to reveal your identity?” he shoots back.

“How about you go first and we’ll see.” I twist some of the platinum blonde hair of my wig between my fingers. I always wonder what he would think if he saw my actual hair, which is long and dark. As for what’s behind his mask, it’s driving me crazy not to know.

“I’ll see you tomorrow Cat,” he says flatly.

“Seriously? We were just getting started!” But it's too late, he's leapt off of the building and is swinging off into the distance, which is a bit dramatic if you ask me. I sigh.

Maybe he just doesn’t like you.

Insecurity twists in my stomach like a knife. But I push it away. Just because he doesn’t want to reveal his super-secret identity just yet doesn't mean anything.

I climb my way down into the alley, then head towards the Upper East Side, and home.

kpkpkp

Unfortunately, my commute home is interrupted. Or rather, I interrupt five men attempting to rob a woman in dark side street. I take four of the guys out easy, but without Spiderman to watch my back, one of the morons manages to slice my arm with his pocket knife. I punch him between the eyes a little harder than necessary and he falls to the pavement, which is perhaps an overreaction on my part, but very satisfying.

When the woman is safely on her way with her purse returned, I sprint home until I'm finally climbing in the living room window of the apartment that I share with my sister. 

“Look at you!” Prim is still in her scrubs, sitting on the couch. She eyes the blood dripping from my wound and sets her TV dinner aside. “I’ll go get my kit.”

“I’m fine!” I call after her, and try not to get blood on the carpet as I sink down at the kitchen table.

“You’re not fine,” Prim says. I only yell a little when she douses antiseptic on the wound. Luckily, Prim manages to stitch me up in no time.

“You’re so smart. Why didn’t Buttercup bite you instead of me?”

Prim swats me on the arm. "Buttercup didn’t bite you.”

"Sure he did. The bastard."

Buttercup, the cat in question, glowers at me from his chair. I don’t remember much about the night I got my powers - just the wet slide of rain on my skin, a dark alleyway, the smell of blood and finally waking up to a this damn tabby meowing at me, as if to say, “you're late.” He followed me home and hasn't left since.

“All set.” Prim sets down her needle and fixes me with an evil grin. “So, when are you going to ask out to Spiderman?”

I groan. “Thanks for the stitches, duckie." I ruffle her hair and dance past her to my room.

“Come on!” Prim calls, but I shut the door before she can give me the third degree. How can I ask him out when he can’t even trust me? What are we going to do, go on a date to a movie in full costume? I flop onto my bed. It’s tomorrow’s problem. Tonight, I sink gratefully into sleep.

Kpkpkp 

There’s nothing like New York City in the fall. The crisp air, the Halloween decorations on the stoops, and the store displays of diamonds. Ok, maybe that last one is not quite fall-themed, but I find myself drawn to the window of Tiffany’s where I try not to drool over a diamond necklace. My fingers itch. I’ve never broke into Tiffany’s, but it would be so easy. And don’t I deserve a little treat? Apparently, word has gotten around that I’m working with Spiderman, and now no shortage of freaks are crawling out of the woodwork to take a bite at me. Freaking Vulture of all people tried to take me out today during an early-morning patrol in Central Park, the jerk.

The necklace is so shiny, and princess-cut, which is my favorite.

But no, those days are over. When I got my powers, I promised myself I’d only steal enough to get Prim through med school, and pay for my degree. Those days are over.

With heroic restraint I turn away, and march to class along with a horde of my fellow NYU students. I find a seat in the huge lecture hall, filled with the chatter of students.

I’m just pulling out my notebook when a student beside me speaks.

“There’s something in your hair.”

“What?” I turn to see he’s cute, with intelligent eyes behind glasses.

“There.” He plucks a leaf out of my messy braid. “Have you been getting into fights with plants?” 

No, but Vulture thought it would be funny to throw me into a tree.

“Thanks,” I say. He flashes me a smile. He has a dimple, just one, on his right cheek. It’s adorable.

“Are you a criminology major?”

“Environmental science and French double major.”

He’s eyebrows disappear into his curly hair.

“Are you?” I ask. 

“I’m a computer science major. Just declared it. I was debating between chemistry and computer science for a while.”

My interest is piqued. I haven’t met a lot of computer science majors since they always seem chained to their laptops in the STEM labs. 

“Why does a future software engineer need to take Criminology 101?”

He fiddles with his pen. “Why are you taking this class? It’s not exactly a French major course requirement.” 

I can’t tell him it’s to help support my, uh, extracurriculars. He lets the question hang, and neither of us move to answer.

“What else are you taking?” I finally ask.

“Calculus, physics, Python. Oh, and photography.”

It’s my turn to raise an eyebrow. That’s a lot of classes. “Why photography?”

“I have this internship with The Daily Bugle.”

I make a face. “Ugh, the Bugle is the worst. Always slandering Spiderman for literally no reason.”

I realize too late I’ve probably offended him, but he shrugs nonchalantly. “Yeah, I tend to agree. But it pays the bills.”

“I’m Katniss.” 

“Peeta.” He shakes my hand, and his bicep flexes under the blue long sleeve shirt that matches his eyes.

I’ll have to ask Spiderman if he knows Peeta. He has some contacts at the Bugle, like his photographer that magically gets all these amazing shots of Spiderman taking down bad guys. I’m beginning to think he takes his own photos and just sends them in to his photographer friend there. 

It looks like Peeta about to say something more but the professor strides in and the lecture begins. I scribble notes but keep getting distracted. Peeta laughs at the professor’s jokes, and each time my heart does this weird little flip. I even catch him staring at me once before he looks away hurriedly.

At the end of the hour, I’m packing my bag when he flashes me a smile.

“Want to grab coffee tomorrow? There’s this cute coffee shop called The Bean–“ 

“In the East Village?” It’s a clean but tiny hole in the wall, and hardly anyone goes there. I know this because Spiderman and I have been a few times to fuel up on caffeine before patrol.

Wait – is this a date? Peeta is smiling crookedly at me. I picture a flash of red and blue and guilt sits heavy in my stomach.

“Um, maybe?”

“Maybe?” Peeta cocks his head. I’m starting to melt under his guileless gaze and nerdy-cute glasses. How can I say no?

“No, I mean – yes. Yes, let’s get coffee.”

Spiderman has made it clear he doesn’t want to share his identity. Which I totally understand. But we can’t have a relationship if we’re always hiding behind a mask.

“Noon tomorrow?” I suggest. This date will be good for me. Even if Spiderman kisses me with the intensity of a fire consuming a house, even if his laugh is like a spring breeze – no. Stop it! 

Peeta nods, swinging his bag gracefully over his shoulder. 

“See you then, Kat.”

I freeze. There’s something in the sound of his voice, or maybe it’s because it’s so close to what Spiderman always calls me, that makes me do a double take.

For the first time since I’ve met him, Peeta is frowning. “Nope, I can see that was a mistake.”

“I prefer Katniss.” I shrug. 

“All right. Katniss.”

I like it when he says my name. A lot. But I don’t show it.

I turn on my heel and hurry out of class.

kpkpkp

 🍁  Leave me a comment if you liked it! Would love to hear what you thought!! 💎

Photo credit to Unsplash

[styleofdiamandis]

             PHOTOSHOOT: L’OFFICIEL MAGAZINE

Marina once again demonstrated her commitment to her glamorous style for the US version of L’Officiel. Photographed by Michael Beckert in NYC’s The Pierre Hotel back in February 2019, the editorial shows Marina wearing the finest runway pieces and high jewelry.

Styling by Yael Quint and Mina Erkli, makeup by Mariko Arai and hair by Sean Bennett.

For the first look, Marina wears a full Chanel Spring/Summer 2019 look which comprises a beaded white knit sweater with the house's signature camellia flower sitting on each shoulder, and a bouclé midi skirt featuring multicolored palms embroidery, and a high slit.

The Greek-Welsh beauty was decked in lots of high jewelry for this editorial! These stunning morganite and diamond teardrop earrings are courtesy of Jacob & Co., whose designs we'll see much more of later!

Personally, no editorial is complete without some romantic Valentino in it! The off-the-shoulder black silk taffeta awe, our girl poses in, was the opening number from the Italian house’s Spring/Summer 2019 collection.

The look was accessorized with a diamond necklace which is courtesy of The Pierre NY hotel, and the Roger Vivier Maharaja black velvet slingback pumps with white feathers.

Both the Josie embellished floral embroidered chiffon sleeveless midi dress which looks like it could have been picked up straight from a painting...

...and black floral lace wide-brimmed hat with matching organza veil, M wrapped around her neck, are from Erdem’s Spring/Summer 2019 runway show!

She crowned the look with Bvlgari’s Serpenti Obere white-gold and diamond huggie earrings.

Next, our girl is seen wearing a Zac Posen Spring/Summer 2019 off-the-shoulder draped mermaid gown in blue polka-dotted degradé taffeta.

More high jewelry from the house of Bvlgari! Firstly, a pair of Serpenti earrings in 18k white-gold, set with pavé diamonds ($60,123.41)...

...and, of course, the Serpenti Viper two-coil bracelet in 18k white-gold, set with full pavé diamonds.

In this beautiful shot Marina lounges in her bed while wearing a cotton terry bathrobe from The Pierre NY featuring their logo embroidered in gold.

The house of Jacob & Co. signed her earrings crafted from 18k white-gold earrings set with 8 natural Colombian briolette emeralds totaling 68.98 carats highlighted by 245 marquise, pear and round brilliant cut diamonds totaling 11.96 carats...

...and the matching show-stopping necklace, featuring 16 Colombian briolette emeralds!

Last but definitely not least, we got a Gucci Spring/Summer 2019 look! This is the nautical-inspired long-sleeved A-line midi dress with collar in contrasting blue & red, and buttoned front.

Slim-silhouetted eyewear was a huge trend back in 2018/19 and these Poppy Lissiman Le Skinny clear cat-eye glasses definitely fit the bill!

Bvlgari created her snake head-shaped Serpenti earrings in 18k white-gold, set with emerald eyes and full pavé diamonds.

As you might have guessed by now, they’re also behind her Serpenti Viper 18k white-gold ring set with pavé diamonds.

The final piece of this look (and this spread) is this Gucci mini Zumi purse in burgundy lizard leather. It features a top handle, detachable gold-tone chain strap and the house’s logo and signature horsebit hardware in silver & gold.

[scarlet--wiccan]

So I was reading about Gloriana/Meggan Braddock now. She’s Romanichal born and raised in the UK but she only looks the way she does because she automatically shapeshifted into what Brian Braddock found attractive when she fell in love with him. Which is a blonde white woman.

I know it’s supposed to be automatic but they had a Romanichal character whitewash them self…?

I feel like I am the only one that wants Meggan to change to what she should actually look like without her mutation shapeshifting her to be what her white English upper class cis husband finds attractive!

Well, I just want to say upfront that blonde and fair-skinned Romani people obviously do exist, and reiterate that there is no right way for a character like Meggan to look. It’s entirely possible for someone of Meggan’s background to look, more or less, exactly the way she looks— the problem is that we know this isn’t her natural form. It’s an assumed form that she got comfortable in, and decided to keep. As far as I’m aware, she doesn’t have a normal human base form at all— her true aspect is as a sort of faerie creature, and that’s fine, but the human-passing presentation which Meggan affects is deliberately not based on what her parents, or anyone else in their community, looked like.

Why does she become an image of white beauty? It may be because she learned it from TV, or because she picked it up, empathically, from others, namely Brian. It may be patterned after Brian himself. None of those explanations really matter though, because the true answer is simple— the writers and artists used a white, blonde, slim body as visual shorthand for Meggan’s true, inner beauty. If her trauma and negative self-image make her into a monster, then, of course moving past that hurt will make her beautiful— and beauty, of course, is a skinny white girl.

Anyhow, this is, apparently, Meggan's true form-- an elfin, fae appearance with almost alien proportions that sometimes, um, glitters. Various writers have indicated that she is a faerie or has faerie heritage, but I don't believe that anyone has ever fully explained that.

N: "This is your true aspect, bright child."

R: "[...] Meggan? Why have you changed back? This is what you wanted-- to know what your really look like."

M: "I'm used to this form. It's how everyone is used to seeing me... but more importantly, it's how I choose to be." Excalibur #46

We've see this faerie form in other scenes, without all the flashing lights, but her coloring is white and blonde there, too. Perhaps, then, her assumed form is just a toned-down version of her true form. Well enough, but one must still consider the optics of Meggan, a child born to poor and seemingly ignorant Romanichal parents, being born with special powers that make her magically white. Whenever other "gypsies" are brought up in Excalibur, they're dark haired and sometimes rendered with markedly ethnic features. It is Meggan, alone, who affects such white and Eurocentric beauty-- and it is Meggan, alone, whose beauty and gifts allow her to rise above her circumstances and leave her life as a Romani girl behind so that she may be a faerie princess and marry a rich white man.

If you can't tell, I don't like this character very much, but it's not her, it's everything about how she's written and drawn. It does not sit right with me, at all. Anyways, I'll leave you with this strange little gem:

"It's my face Brian, they must be my features. But you're right, I have been shapeshifting, whether I wanted to or not-- I wonder if it's significant that I stabilized with this? Oh, Brian-- you should have been there to see the whole game! I was doing so well, I wasn't using my powers to help, I was playing those men on their physical terms-- and I won! I didn't know I could do that! Stand up for myself, by myself, as myself-- I never dreamt it would feel so good!" Excalibur (1988) #8

At this point in early Excalibur, Meggan's shapeshifting is an instinctive camouflage reflex-- she borrows traits from other people around her, but she doesn't have any real control over it. In #8, Meggan spends the day wandering about NYC on her own and meeting various people. The high point of her day is when she joins a game of pick-up basketball and, in playing, find herself more present, grounded, and un-self-conscious than ever before. The appearance that she has adopted is not her true form, but a mimic of the Black folks that she was hanging out with--you'll notice, however, that she doesn't immediately revert to her blonde appearance, even around Brian, until he calls attention to the fact that she's not her "usual" self. Am I supposed to think that this blonde form is more natural or authentic to Meggan than the various Black and brown appearances she's taken on? Because I'm not convinced.

[ofxcatalina-arch]

*     ◟    :    〔   adria arjona  ,      cis female    +   she/her/they    〕      damn  !      is    that     𝑪𝒂𝒕𝒂𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒂 𝑨𝒎𝒂𝒊𝒂 𝑹𝒊𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒂 𝑪𝒂𝒓𝒓𝒊𝒛𝒐  ?      last    i    heard    they    were    making    a    name    for    themselves    as    a     𝐬𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐢𝐞𝐫     /    𝚍𝚘𝚌𝚞𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚐𝚎𝚛   for    the     𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐱 𝐦𝐚𝐟𝐢𝐚   /    & 𝚊𝚗𝚢 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚢      .     i    heard    that    the     𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘳𝘵𝘺-𝘧𝘰𝘶𝘳    year    old    is    a    bit     𝗶𝗺𝗽𝗲𝘁𝘂𝗼𝘂𝘀     but    can    also    be     𝗱𝗲𝗽𝗲𝗻𝗱𝗮𝗯𝗹𝗲   .      sometimes    you    can    hear    them    humming    paper planes   by    m.i.a ,      though    people    mostly    associate    them    with     🇹🇦🇱🇰🇮🇳🇬 🇹🇴 🇸🇴🇲🇪🇴🇳🇪 🇴🇳🇱🇾 🇹🇴 🇷🇪🇦🇱🇮🇸🇪 🇹🇭🇪🇾'🇷🇪 🇬🇴🇳🇪 / 🇳🇴🇹 🇸🇪🇪🇮🇳🇬 🇼🇭🇴 🇼🇮🇱🇱 🇭🇺🇷🇹 🇾🇴🇺 🇧🇺🇹 🇰🇳🇴🇼🇮🇳🇬 🇹🇭🇪 🇵🇦🇮🇳 🇮🇸 🇨🇴🇲🇮🇳🇬 / 🇪🇳🇩🇦🇳🇬🇪🇷🇮🇳🇬 🇾🇴🇺🇷🇸🇪🇱🇫 🇫🇴🇷 🇰🇳🇴🇼🇱🇪🇩🇬🇪 .      (      whiskey      ,     27  ,      she/her  ,      gmt    +    no triggers  .      )

tw : death. childbirth. murder. alcohol. (possibly others)

GENERAL DETAILS.

FULL NAME:   catalina amaia rivera carrizo NICKNAMES:   cat AGE:  34 DATE OF BIRTH:  1st Feb 1988 PLACE OF BIRTH:  guatemala city CURRENT LOCATION:   soho, nyc. ETHNICITY:   guatelmalan  &  puerto rican GENDER:   cisfemale PRONOUNS:   she/her/they SEXUAL ORIENTATION:   bisexual - biromantic OCCUPATION:   makes her own money as a forger – if you need a new identity, she’s your go to girl EDUCATION LEVEL:   highschool education – obtained in guatamala LIVING ARRANGEMENTS:     apartment in soho SPOKEN LANGUAGES:    spanish ,  english ,  italian , little bits of french

PHYSICAL APPEARANCE, ETC.

FACECLAIM:   adria arjona HAIR COLOR AND STYLE:  brown hair, wavey, occasionally straightened. EYE COLOR:   brown. HEIGHT:   5ft 5 WEIGHT:   57kg BODY AND BUILD:   slim, toned, good amount of muscle and body strength TATTOOS:   she has only one tattoo but it is a piece that covers her entire back, very few people have ever seen it. PIERCINGS:   ears are pierced and she has an industrial bar, and a tongue piercing. SIGNATURE SCENT:   chanel coco mademoiselle

PERSONALITY.

POSITIVE TRAITS:   dependable.  loyal (but who to?).  relaxed.   NEGATIVE TRAITS:   impetuous.  casually chaotic.  theif.  enjoys the life of crime. LIKES:   stealing things.  kicking back with a beer.   DISLIKES:   taking life too seriously. BAD HABITS:   she drinks a lot, possibly drunk 90% of the time.   GOALS AND AMBITIONS:   maintain her father's approval but be closer with her brother & nephew. SPORT:      doesn’t care for sport at all. BEVERAGE:   ice cold corona on a hot day.   FOOD:   will eat anything – not fussy at all and loves to try new things.

FAMILY, RELATIONSHIPS, ETC.

MOTHER:   gloriana christina rivera – deceased STEP-MOTHER: ariana santiago carrizo – deceased FATHER:   manuel ruiz carrizo – alive SIGNIFICANT OTHER:   potentially wanted BEST FRIEND:   wanted EXES:   wanted SIBLING(S):   half-brother  -  domenico basilio santiago carrizo – alive CHILDREN:   none

LIFE.

Born in Guatemala Catalina was the product of an affair between a member of the mafia and a Puerto Rican woman the mafia wanted dead, for reasons unknown to Catalina. Her father loved her mother and despite the mafia’s intention to take her out her father still continued their affair until Catalina was born. The mafia got their wish, as her mother died due to amniotic fluid embolism. Her father, Manuel, was distraught but he brought Catalina into his home where she was raised alongside her half-brother, Domenico, who was ten years older than her. Domenico’s mother, Ariana, accepted although she had no choice in the matter. Ariana still helped raise Catalina until she was murdered when Catalina was four. Catalina was told that the murder was a member of a rival gang looking to take out Domenico, but that was a lie she is yet to uncover. The truth was that Manuel murdered Ariana in front of Domenico. Raised by only her father treating Catalina like a princess as a child. And Catalina looked up to her older brother until she was 10 years old when Domenico left to go to America.

Catalina was too young to fully understand what had happened between Domenico, their father and Ariana. And for her life continued to go on in Guatemala where over time as her father rose through the ranks Catalina felt more alone than anything else. Her father, although he would spoil her with anything she ever wanted, only ever wanted to make him proud of her. In her teen years she started to anything she could for her father's attention. She began to involve herself with a soldier within the 18th street mafia and he taught her much of what she knows today. Catalina became more and more involved in the life of crime and is now skilled in anything from theft, forgery, dealing and is skilled with melee weapons and firearms, but honestly just loves a good fight. By her late teens/early twenties she realised how much her father wanted Domenico to take after his lead, but that Catalina could never fill that position. He wanted her to be treat and viewed as royalty, but didn’t believe she’d ever be good enough to get her hands dirty within the ranks of the mafia. Catalina fought every day to change that, pushing herself to become what he wanted from Domenico.

For several years she was a soldier within the 18th street mafia, but there came a time where Manuel wanted her to go to the states and see what was happening there, see what Domenico was doing and how the operations were running within the Latinx Mafia / Espinar family. Aged 28 Catalina moved to the states, initially living with Domenico for the first few years. She realised how little they really knew each other since he left when she was still a child and eventually, she moved into her own apartment in Soho.  Catalina is now a soldier within the Latinx Mafia in New York City, and though she has integrated well she still waits for her father to call her back to Guatemala several years later.

HEAD CANNONS.

She’s an excellent forger, any legal documents you need, she’s got them ready within twenty-four hours. For a price of course.

She loves fighting – you can see her in the underground fighting scene from time to time, but she’d get into a scrap with someone for the smallest things.

She drinks a lot – she is a functioning alcoholic and no one has ever really noticed or brought it up if they have.

She clearly has daddy issues, always wanting his approval, but never comparing to what he’d hoped her brother would be.

Despite how her father raised her she isn’t your typical girly “princess” type. More often than not she is wearing ripped jeans, a tee and combat boots.

WANTED CONNECTIONS:

ROOMMATE(s)- someone he can split the rent with, they don’t even have to like each other but their connection can be plotted however I would love the idea of a bunch of roomies like in new girl. (0/?) BEST FRIEND – everyone's gotta have a best friend, this person could have shown her the city when she first arrived and they hit it off ever since (0/1) DRINKING BUDDIES - they go out, they drink and it’s as simple as that.  more can be plotted. (0/?) EXES - can be plotted but she would have likely just ghosted after a period of time or it fizzled out (0/?) ONE NIGHT STANDS - past or present and can be plotted. (0/?)

[comfortscripts]

i didn’t know u do ships omg!! can i please get a male Marauders ship?

• 5’3 / INFJ / libra☀️ cancer🌙 libra⬆️ / gryffindor

• im an actress and writer, and i’ll actually be studying acting in NYC at my dream school soon!

• ive got shoulder length dark brown wavy hair and brown eyes. im pretty slim since theatre is surprisingly good exercise, but i want to be more toned.

• i love love love classic literature so if i was a witch i’d probably be equally obsessed with both muggle and wizarding literature

• im pretty lovey-dovey with my friends. i cuddle and kiss them all platonically, and they also all say im the best gift giver they know

• i like to pretend im super confident and self assured, but secretly im very insecure and soft and just want to be taken care of and treated nicely :,)

• i listen to a lot of simon and garfunkel, ezra furman, jelani aryeh, the monkees, indigo girls, the cranberries, suki waterhouse, and tom rosenthal

• my style is kinda basic but elevated? a black turtleneck, miniskirt, knee high boots, gold jewelry, and a trench coat is what i wore today

• im jewish

Congratulations on going to your dream school, that is amazing!!!

Also I am incredibly sorry this is so late </3

Remus Lupin

The support that lives at the heart of this relationship is unmatched. You help him with his lycanthropy and he never misses a performance.

Nights cuddled up as he reads through your work and you two brainstorm ideas

I am a firm believer in Remus being a light academia style icon so I feel like the two of you would complement each other by being simple but smart

Swaying to old records as you both messily waltz through the common room at 3am

Remus has confidence, he is a Marauder after all, but similar to you, he worries about what people assume. That understanding you two share makes things easier to navigate in the relationship.

The werewolf would probably spend hours just cuddling and holding you, he is touch-starved and wants to protect you

I don't know what Religious Education is like at Hogwarts but I can imagine that Remus would research whatever he could about Judaism to make you feel comfortable, and to know more about you

"So my love, I was reading that Shakespeare play and I think I have some ideas on how you can really step up the character." Strolling into the common room before falling into position next to you. Cosying into the burgundy velvet sofa and bringing you into his side.

Remus always smelt like chocolate and old books, that scent alone calmed every nerve in your body. Dulled the aches and banished the bruises that you gained in rehearsals.

"I would love to hear them, but for now, could we just relax? It's been a long day"

Nuzzling closer as you gripped his sweater-covered arm in hopes to pull it tighter across your body. You felt Remus soften at your touch as he allowed himself to sink further into the embrace of the moment.

"Of course. Why don't we have a small nap before dinner?"

Soon after those words left the Marauder's mouth, the two of you had drifted into a peaceful slumber with your heartbeats syncing up as his breathing pattern matched yours.