#captive center model

[zcoordinate]

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[meleeyz]

୭ 𝗜𝗡 𝗘𝗩𝗘𝗥𝗬 𝗨𝗡𝗜𝗩𝗘𝗥𝗦𝗘 ˚. ᵎᵎ 

ekko 𝒙 fem!reader

୨୧ English is not my first language, so I regret in advance if something reads weird or is misspelled.

୨୧ I love that you love dad!Ekko as much as I do, I have like three or four drafts on this and I'm not going to stop now.

₊˚ ✧ ‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿ ✧ ₊˚

The Firelights hideout was never quiet, not truly. Even at night, the creak of wood, the faint buzz of firefly, and the occasional murmur of voices filtered through the air. Yet tonight, the sounds grated on you more than usual. You sat alone in the main room, slumped in a chair, your legs stretched out, and your head resting against the backrest. Your body was still, but your mind raced.

The meeting earlier had drained you. Every face in the crowd, every raised voice, every plea, every challenge—they were all into your memory. There were no easy answers when it came to survival. Staying in the hideout offered safety, but at what cost? Heading into battle was madness, and yet you had found yourself standing at the front of the room, advocating for just that.

Jayce Talis had begged.

The thought still lingered, making your stomach churn. The golden man of Piltover, the symbol of everything Zaun despised, had been desperate enough to cross the divide and plead for help. It was absurd. It was dangerous. And it was necessary.

You looked over at Wyeth’s crib, just a few feet away. He was still awake, his tiny fingers caressing the mobile Ekko had built for him. Little Firelight models swayed lazily above it, glowing faintly in the dimly lit room. His giggles broke the heavy silence from time to time, a sound that filled you with warmth.

You sighed, dragging a hand down your face. You were exhausted, but sleep felt like a luxury you couldn’t afford. For your people. For your baby. For the memory of the man you loved.

Ekko.

The name still made your chest ache. Some nights, you let yourself believe he’d be back, that he’d walk through the door like nothing had happened, his grin as bright as ever. Other nights, you couldn’t even say his name. Not out loud. It hurt too much.

A sudden commotion outside jolted you upright. Voices—louder than usual—echoed through the hideout. The door slammed open, and Roux burst in, her curls wild and her chest heaving as if she’d run the whole way.

You shot her a sharp look, raising a hand to signal for quiet, but Wyeth didn’t so much as flinch. He was still captivated by the spinning fireflies above him, his tiny hand outstretched.

“Roux,” you said, your voice low and steady despite the tension knotting your muscles. “What’s going on?”

For a moment, she didn’t answer. She stood frozen, her dark eyes wide with a mix of disbelief and relief. And then, she smiled—a wide, genuine smile that lit up her whole face.

She didn’t say a word, just nodded at you, her expression speaking volumes.

Your heart lurched in your chest. No, it couldn’t be—

You shot to your feet, crossing the room in three strides to scoop Wyeth into your arms. He let out a surprised coo, his hands grabbing at the edge of your shirt. You didn’t have time to comfort him, your feet already moving toward the stairs.

The shelter was alive with movement. Firelights crowded the central area, their voices a buzzing cacophony. They were clustered together, their faces turned toward the center where a figure stood, just barely visible through the sea of bodies.

You pushed your way forward, your grip on Wyeth tightening with each step. Your breath came faster, your pulse pounding in your ears.

Please, let it be him.

The Firelights parted as you approached, one by one stepping aside as if they could sense the urgency in your movements. And then you saw him.

Ekko.

He stood there, his hair disheveled, his clothes dirty and torn, but his smile was as radiant as ever. His eyes locked onto yours, and in that instant, it was as if time itself had rewound.

“Hey,” he said softly, his voice carrying over the crowd.

Your heart tightened, a wave of relief and disbelief crashing over you. You barely registered the people around you as you stepped closer, Wyeth squirming in your arms, reaching out toward the man who looked just like him.

And then—

You woke with a start, your chest heaving, your heart pounding like a drum. The room was dark, the faint hum of the hideout returning to your ears.

For a moment, you sat there, frozen, the vivid memory of Ekko’s face lingering like a phantom. Then, reality set in. You were still in the main room, slouched in the same chair as before.

But something was wrong.

Wyeth.

The crib was empty.

Panic shot through you like lightning as you scrambled to your feet, your eyes darting around the room. The hanging firefly mobile swayed gently, untouched.

“Wyeth?” you called, your voice breaking.

The silence that followed was deafening.

The air was suffocating, panic pounding in your chest as your eyes darted around the dimly lit room. Where was Wyeth? Your fists clenched, your pulse racing as the dark corners seemed to stretch endlessly.

You stepped forward, instinctively grabbing the nearest object you could find—Ekko’s hammer. The weight of it was familiar, grounding you for just a moment. Your knuckles whitened around its handle as you heard the faintest sound behind you, the scrape of a boot against the floorboards.

Someone was there.

Without thinking, you spun around, raising the hammer high, ready to strike—but a hand caught your wrist mid-swing, strong and firm. The hammer slipped from your grip, clattering to the ground.

The dim light caught the edges of his face first—the familiar curve of his jawline, the wild twists of his hair—and then his eyes. Those unmistakable, tear-filled eyes.

“Ekko?”

He stood there, smiling softly, as if you hadn’t just tried to bash his skull in.

“Aren’t you going to say hello to me?” His voice cracked at the edges, but the warmth in it was unmistakable.

For a moment, you couldn’t move. Your mind raced to catch up with your heart, which was already soaring, even as doubt clung to the edges of your thoughts. Was this another dream? A cruel trick?

Your knees nearly buckled. You’d been sleeping, and somehow, while you were lost in restless dreams, he had come back.

“Ekko…” you whispered, your voice breaking.

He didn’t wait for an answer. In an instant, his arms were around you, pulling you into him with all the strength he had. You collapsed against his chest, your hands clutching his shirt as the floodgates opened. Tears poured down your face, sobs wracking your body as weeks of fear, anger, and loneliness spilled out all at once.

His hand cradled the back of your head, his other arm locked tightly around your waist as if letting go wasn’t an option.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, over and over, his words barely audible through his own tears. “I’m so sorry for being gone so long.”

You couldn’t respond, your voice lost to the ache in your chest. Instead, you buried your face in his shoulder, breathing him in, letting his presence ground you. He was here. He was real.

As you clung to him, your eyes drifted over his shoulder to the crib on the other side of the adjoining room. Wyeth was there, fast asleep, his tiny chest rising and falling with each breath. Relief coursed through you like a tidal wave. He was safe.

Ekko’s voice pulled you back to him.

“I love you,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “I love you with all my heart. I love you in every universe.”

The last sentence made you pause. You pulled back just enough to look up at him, your brows furrowing.

“What does that mean?”

His smile wavered, his hand brushing a tear from your cheek.

“I’ll explain everything,” he said softly. “But not tonight.”

You hesitated, but the exhaustion in his eyes—the weariness that mirrored your own—stilled your questions. Whatever it was, it could wait. For now, all that mattered was that he was here.

You melted back into his embrace, feeling his heartbeat steady against your own.

The night stretched on, the war outside the hideout forgotten for the time being.

Ekko hadn’t let go of you for hours, and you didn’t want him to. You sat together on the small bed in your shared room, Wyeth nestled between the two of you. He stirred occasionally.

Ekko watched him with an expression you couldn’t quite name—equal parts wonder and guilt.

“He’s gotten so big,” he murmured, his fingers gently tracing the soft curls on Wyeth’s head.

“You should have seen him a month ago,” you said, your voice light but tinged with lingering sadness. “He couldn’t stop rolling over. Drove me crazy.”

Ekko chuckled softly, his gaze flickering to yours.

“You’re incredible, you know that?”

You shook your head, brushing off the compliment, but he caught your hand, lacing his fingers with yours.

“I mean it,” he said, his voice firm. “You’ve held everything together while I was gone. Our son, the Firelights, the shelter—you did all of it.”

Tears pricked at your eyes again, but you bit them back.

“I didn’t have a choice.”

Ekko leaned forward, pressing his forehead to yours.

“I’m sorry I made you do it alone. I should’ve been here.”

“Then don’t leave again,” you whispered, your voice trembling.

“I won’t,” he said, the conviction in his tone wrapping around your heart like a promise. “Never again.”

For the first time in months, you felt a sense of peace settle over you. There were still so many questions, so many battles ahead, but for now, none of it mattered. Ekko was home.

₊˚ ✧ ‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿ ✧ ₊˚

The morning sun filtered through the hideout’s windows, despite the warmth of the new day, there was a heaviness in the air, a silent acknowledgment of the battle yet to come. People moved through the corridors in hushed tones, preparing for what was ahead, stealing fleeting moments of connection with those they held dear.

Ekko stood in the tiny kitchen, his silhouette framed by the soft glow of morning. The space was simple but functional—weathered counters, mismatched cabinets, and a small table barely big enough for two. Wyeth sat snug in his father’s arms, his tiny hands grasping at the bottle Ekko held steady.

Ekko had a way of moving that was both fluid and deliberate, like he carried the weight of the world with practiced ease. This morning, however, there was something different about him. His usually sharp eyes were softer, fixed on his son with a mix of love and wonder.

You stood just outside the doorway, your hand resting on the frame as you paused. You hadn’t intended to linger, but the sound of Ekko’s voice stopped you in your tracks. He wasn’t speaking to you—or anyone else for that matter. He was talking to Wyeth, his tone gentle, the words almost a lullaby.

“You know,” Ekko began, adjusting the bottle in Wyeth’s tiny hands, “where I was, everything was… different. Almost perfect, I guess.” He let out a soft laugh, shaking his head as if still trying to believe it himself. “Zaun wasn’t like this. No war. No infected trees. No fighting just to survive.”

Your brow furrowed as you leaned closer, trying to make sense of what he was saying. What did he mean by different?

Ekko continued, his voice carrying the weight of someone who had seen too much in too little time.

“It was wild, kiddo. My friends were alive. My family. Everyone I lost… they were all there. And Zaun?” He smiled wistfully. “Zaun was alive. Really alive. It was a city of light, not smoke. People thrived there, not just got by and your grandpa Benzo still had his shop, believe it or not,” he chuckled softly, though there was a sadness in it. “And I didn’t have to carry so much. No fight, no death.”

Your breath hitched as he spoke. Whatever he had experienced while he was gone, it had left its mark on him. You clenched your fists against the doorway, torn between wanting to step inside and wanting to hear more.

“But you know what I liked most about it?” Ekko asked, his smile softening as Wyeth gurgled in response. “Your mommy.”

Ekko’s gaze dropped to his son, his thumb brushing against the soft curls on Wyeth’s head.

“I loved her there, just like I love her here. Only difference is, in that world…” His voice trailed off for a moment, a faraway look in his eyes. “We were married.”

You froze, a sudden heat rising to your cheeks. Married?

“She was just as stubborn, though,” Ekko chuckled, shaking his head. “Still had that fire in her. Still drove me crazy, but in the best way.”

Married. You had never thought much about marriage—there hadn’t been time to. Survival always came first. But the way he spoke about it, the way he described you and him together in that other world…

Ekko shifted Wyeth in his arms, his expression growing fonder with every word.

“We had so much fun, you know? Playing with your other version. You were bigger there, running around and getting into all kinds of trouble. And you had a little sister.”

The revelation sent another jolt through you. A sister?

“Yep,” Ekko went on, his voice full of warmth. “Your mommy and I didn’t waste any time.” He let out a soft laugh, his grin mischievous. “And from the looks of it, we were about to get another little firefly. Your dad’s not the type to keep his hands off your mom, you know?”

Your face burned as you pressed yourself against the wall, your fingers gripping the edge of the doorframe. He couldn’t possibly mean… You shook your head as you tried to process his words.

Ekko’s voice turned playful, his tone carrying a knowing edge.

“It’s rude to spy, you know.”

Your breath caught, and you felt your stomach drop as he turned his head. His grin widened, as though he’d known you were there the whole time.

Caught red-handed, you straightened and pushed the door open fully, stepping into the room with your arms crossed.

“You’re lying,” you said, your voice laced with feigned annoyance.

Ekko turned, still cradling Wyeth in one arm. His eyes roamed over you, as though seeing you for the first time all over again. There was a softness in his expression, but also something deeper.

“You don’t believe me?” he teased, raising an eyebrow.

You tilted your head, your lips curving into a faint smirk.

“Not a word.”

But there was something in his eyes, something intense and unyielding, that silenced the playful edge in your voice. He set the bottle down on the counter and held your gaze, his expression suddenly serious.

“You’re a lot like her, you know,” he said quietly. “But you’re not the same. You’re better.”

The words hit you harder than you expected, and you hesitated, feeling suddenly self-conscious under the weight of his gaze.

Then you straightened, fixing Ekko with a skeptical look.

“So, what? You just decided to leave this magical, perfect dimension where everything was great and come back here?”

Ekko’s gaze didn’t waver. “Yeah,” he said simply.

You blinked.

“Why?”

“Because it wasn’t home,” he said, his voice steady, certain. “You and Wyeth—you’re my home.”

Ekko shifted Wyeth to one arm, freeing his other hand to reach out for you. You stepped closer, your heart racing as you looked at him—really looked at him. Despite the time apart, despite everything he had endured, he was still all yours.

“I’m here now,” he said, his voice steady. “And when we get through this, because I’m going to win the damn war if that means see this little guy growing again…” He paused, his thumb brushing against your cheek. “I’m going to marry you.”

The air left your lungs, the weight of his words crashing into you.

You opened your mouth to speak, but no words came. Instead, you reached out, brushing your fingers against the hand that held Wyeth, grounding yourself in the warmth of your family.

“Say something,” Ekko murmured, his lips curving into a small smile.

You swallowed hard, blinking back the tears that threatened to spill.

“You’re serious?”

“As serious as I’ve ever been.”

No matter how many worlds existed, no matter how different things might have been elsewhere, this was the one he chose.

This was his family.

And for Ekko, that was enough.

₊˚ ✧ ‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿ ✧ ₊˚

tags: @serena6728 @theyluvkghanya @night-fall-moon @chaeisbroke

[seriallover]

Why certain people capture the spotlight?⭐️

1. The luminaries, the Sun and Moon naturally draw attention in a birth chart. People with strong Sun or Moon placements tend to light up any room they enter, effortlessly standing out.

Just like everyone loves capturing the beauty of a sunrise or the glow of a full moon, those with these placements have a magnetic energy that people can’t help but notice.

It’s almost like they’re always in the spotlight, which is why they often feel the need to look their best.☀️🌕

Beyoncé, Purva Phalguni Sun, Chitra Lagna and Venus.

Michael Jackson, Magha Sun and Shatabhisha Lagna.

Bella Hadid, Purva Phalguni Moon and Lagna.

There's not much to say about Beyoncé and Michael that isn't already well-known—they're icons in their own right, the biggest stars of our time. Bella Hadid has become the most photographed model off-duty and in 2022, she was named Model of the Year.

Gia Carangi, often hailed as the first true supermodel, paved the way for all the other supermodels that followed. She had a Shravana Sun and Lagnesh, with Hasta as her Lagna and a Shatabhisha Moon.

Britney Spears, Shravana Moon, was one of the most photographed stars for a while. The crazy amount of media attention even led to harassment and really affected her mental health.

Gisele Bündchen, Pushya Sun and Purva Phalguni Lagna, the only "Ubermodel"-that means being more than a supermodel.

Lauren Hutton, Pushya Moon and Lagna, holds the record for the most Vogue covers—26 in total.

I previously explored about how lunar-dominant people often achieve significant success on social media.

2. Chitra Nakshatra, known as the "Star of Opportunity," carries the Shakti of "accumulating merit." The word "Chitra" translates to "wonderful" and "pleasing to look at," as well as "illusion."

The deity of this nakshatra is Tvastar, the celestial architect who designed the universe. The symbol of Chitra is the "pearl" or "bright jewel," symbolizing beauty and uniqueness.💎💍

"Chitra" also means "picture," so individuals with this nakshatra are often naturally photogenic. 📸Tvastar, as the creator of Maya (illusion), grants those under Chitra the ability to craft captivating personas, making them talented models, photographers, actors, and successful on social media.

Kim Kardashian, Chitra Sun, built a career centered on her image. As one of the first influencers, she's become one of the most prominent and influential figures on social media. In 2015, she released “Selfish”, a book featuring a collection of her selfies.

Cindy Kimberly, Chitra Moon and Shravana Lagna, shot to fame because of her striking beauty. Her big break came when Justin Bieber posted about her on his Instagram. Now, she’s a major beauty influencer and a well-known model.

Anna Nicole Smith, Chitra Sun and Hasta Moon, made a name for herself as a model, completely based on her image. She was once one of the most photographed women in the world, and photographers loved working with her, often saying she was one of the easiest and most exciting people to capture on camera.

The thing with Chitra individuals is that, because of Tvastar, the celestial craftsman, their features often become iconic. For instance, Kim drew the attention to the BBL, Cindy’s nose has become a major inspiration for many women, and Anna Nicole brought attention back to curvy bodies at a time when the "heroin chic" look was in vogue, reminiscent of Marilyn Monroe's era.

3. Dhanishtha🌟 Shakti is "power to give abundance and fame," meaning "the most famous," "the most heard of." This nakshatra is recurring in the charts of people who usually marry famous individuals, making them well-known as well, often attracting more attention than their partner.

Princess Diana, Dhanishtha Moon and Magha Lagnesh, was the most photographed woman in the world, holding the record for the most sold-out paparazzi pictures, including one that sold for 6 million dollars.

Marilyn Monroe, Rohini Sun, Dhanishtha Moon, and Ashlesha Lagna, was also one of the most photographed women of her time.

4. Shatabhisha, meaning "hundred stars" and represented by a veiled star and an empty circle, is a nakshatra ruled by Rahu. ⭕️

This nakshatra is associated with illusion, the power to effect radical change, innovation, the foreign, esoteric influences, and trends. The empty circle can also symbolize the idea of a cult or community, like the Navy for Rihanna.

Rihanna, Shatabhisha Sun, stands out as one of the most influential artists and fashion icons. She has consistently set trends in the fashion world, with her style serving as an inspiration to many. Recently, her maternity looks have redefined how celebrities approach their appearance during pregnancy, bringing a stylish twist to the norm.

Demi Moore, Lagnesh in Shravana and Jupiter in Shatabhisha in the first house, set a trend for nude pregnancy photoshoots. At the time, this was quite controversial, but it has since become a common practice not just among celebrities, but also for non-celebrity women.

Elizabeth Taylor, Sun in Shatabhisha, was also a major target for paparazzi. George Hamilton once remarked:

"I remember when the word 'paparazzi' came along, and it just meant a bunch of guys who were all photographers looking for Elizabeth Taylor. Desperately looking for Elizabeth Taylor! And that was the beginning of paparazzi. They were not going for glamour anymore. They were going for the destruction of glamour."

[aventurineswife]

YOU NEED REQS??? I HAVE REQS

model aventurine X designer reader and like aventurine is basically reader’s muse and she legit starts to fall for him

A Beautiful Wager

Summary: As a celebrated designer, your work thrives on inspiration from the extraordinary, and Aventurine—model, IPC executive, and a walking enigma—proves to be the perfect muse. Beneath his charm and confident smirk lies a man of contradictions, and as your creative collaboration deepens, so does your bond. When the walls Aventurine hides behind begin to crack, you find yourself gambling on something more valuable than art: his heart.

Tags: Aventurine x Reader, Fluff and Angst, Slow Burn Romance, Designer x Model Dynamics, Mutual Pining, Flirty Banter, Emotional Vulnerability.

Warnings: Mentions of past trauma, Emotional manipulation, Themes of self-doubt and trust issues, Subtle exploration of power dynamics.

The golden glow of Penacony’s fading sunlight streamed through the massive floor-to-ceiling windows of your studio, painting the room with a surreal warmth. Rolls of luxurious fabric spilled across the tables, and half-finished designs cluttered the walls, each sketch a testament to your restless creativity. At the center of it all stood him—Aventurine.

He leaned casually against the fitting stand, his long overcoat draped over one shoulder, golden jewelry catching the light. His eyes sparkled with a mischief that seemed to challenge the very laws of fate. “So,” he purred, voice smooth and tinged with amusement, “am I the perfect muse, or is my reputation doing all the work?”

You laughed, though his question wasn’t entirely untrue. Aventurine had become both a fascination and an enigma for you. As a designer, you sought inspiration in the rare and extraordinary, and he was all of that—and more. His flamboyant charm, the intricate details of his appearance, even the way he adjusted his glasses with a knowing smirk—it all captivated you.

“I wouldn’t call you perfect,” you teased, stepping closer with a measuring tape. “But you’re close enough.”

Aventurine grinned, tilting his head to let the light catch the peacock feather earring that dangled from his ear. “Close enough? My, my, darling, that stings. I’ll have you know, the IPC considers me the definition of perfection.”

“Perfection isn’t always inspiring,” you replied, your voice laced with a quiet sincerity that caught him off guard. “Flaws, contradictions—those are what make people fascinating. Like you.”

For a brief moment, Aventurine’s mask slipped. His ever-present smile softened, and something unspoken flickered in his eyes. But it was gone as quickly as it appeared, replaced by his usual devil-may-care bravado. “I’m flattered. Truly. Tell me, do I inspire chaos or brilliance?”

“Both,” you admitted, stepping back to admire your work. You’d chosen a deep emerald-green fabric for his ensemble, tailored to emphasize his sleek frame and finished with intricate golden embroidery that echoed the roulette wheel motif he favored. As you adjusted the final piece, your fingers brushed against his wrist.

It was subtle, but you felt him tense under your touch.

“Do you always gamble this much on your work?” he asked, his voice quieter now, tinged with something you couldn’t quite place.

“Only when the stakes are high,” you replied, meeting his gaze.

“And what’s at stake here?” Aventurine leaned in slightly, the playful edge in his tone giving way to something deeper.

You hesitated, caught off guard by the intensity of his question. His eyes searched yours, no longer masked by his usual flamboyance. For the first time, you glimpsed the man behind the facade—the vulnerability, the pain, the weight of secrets he carried.

“You...” you said softly.

The word hung between you, delicate yet unyielding. Aventurine’s expression shifted, the cracks in his armor widening as he considered your answer. He could dismiss it, turn it into another joke, another game—but he didn’t.

Instead, he reached for your hand, his fingers brushing against yours in a gesture that felt both tentative and deliberate. “Careful, darling,” he murmured, his voice low and filled with warning. “You might win more than you bargained for.”

You smiled, refusing to let him retreat behind his walls. “Good. I don’t design for safe bets.”

Aventurine chuckled, the sound soft and genuine, and for the first time, his smile felt real. “Well then,” he said, his voice a mix of challenge and admiration, “let’s see if you can outplay me.”

The room seemed to hold its breath as the two of you stood there, a designer and their muse caught in a moment that felt like the beginning of something neither of you could fully understand—yet neither of you could walk away from.

[scoupsakakitty]

Runway to my Heart | idol!Joshua x Model!Reader | fluff

The energy in the venue was electric. The flashing lights, the murmurs of anticipation from the audience, and the rhythmic soundcheck from the live band all blended together into a perfect symphony of excitement. This wasn’t just any fashion show—it was a grand event, bringing together the best of music and fashion. And tonight, Seventeen had the honor of performing live as the models strutted down the runway.

Joshua adjusted his in-ear monitor as he stood with the rest of the group backstage. He had been to countless shows, performed on stages in front of thousands, but somehow, tonight felt different. Maybe it was the unique setting, or maybe it was the way the fashion world intertwined with their performance. He wasn’t sure yet.

“Alright, guys, let’s give them a show to remember,” Seungcheol encouraged, clapping his hands together as they gathered in a small huddle.

The lights dimmed, and the opening beats of their song filled the air. The curtains parted, revealing the runway, and the show began.

Joshua strummed the first notes on his guitar, his voice harmonizing with Jeonghan’s as the models began their walks. He kept his focus on the performance—until he saw her.

Y/N.

She was the first model to step onto the catwalk, opening the show with an effortless grace that captivated everyone in the room. The moment she emerged, all eyes were on her. Cameras flashed, murmurs rippled through the crowd, and Joshua? He completely lost track of the lyrics for a split second.

She was stunning. There was no other way to describe it. The way she carried herself, the confidence in her stride, the way the outfit complimented her—it was mesmerizing. He barely registered the soft nudge from Woozi, who had noticed his sudden distraction.

As Y/N reached the center of the runway, she made a subtle yet professional interaction with them. She gave a small wave, acknowledging their presence, and just before she turned for her exit, she leaned slightly forward, locking eyes with Joshua and gifting him with the warmest smile.

Joshua felt his heart stutter.

He wasn’t the only one who noticed. Seungkwan smirked mid-line, giving Joshua a knowing glance, but the older singer chose to ignore it, focusing back on the performance—though, not without stealing a few glances as Y/N gracefully disappeared behind the curtain.

After the show, Y/N found herself surrounded by reporters and interviewers, all eager to get a few words from the opening model of the night. She smiled as a microphone was extended towards her.

“Y/N, you looked absolutely stunning out there! How did it feel to open such a grand event?”

“It was an honor,” she replied smoothly. “The energy from the audience was incredible, and walking to live music was such a different experience.”

One interviewer leaned in slightly, grinning. “Speaking of live music, Seventeen’s performance tonight was spectacular. What did you think?”

“Oh, they were amazing!” she gushed. “This was actually my first time seeing them perform live, and I was genuinely impressed. Their presence on stage is just… magnetic. You can feel their passion in every note. If I ever have the time, I’d love to go to one of their concerts.”

Meanwhile, the members of Seventeen were also being interviewed. They stood together, still buzzing from their performance and the fashion show itself. The topic of conversation soon turned to the models and the designs they showcased.

“So, gentlemen,” the interviewer began, “which outfit or runway walk caught your eye the most tonight?”

The members exchanged glances, some laughing, some pretending to ponder seriously. Jeonghan playfully nudged Joshua forward. “Go ahead, Josh. You first.”

Joshua cleared his throat, already suspecting where this was going. He wanted to be honest—Y/N’s walk had undoubtedly been his favorite. But as he opened his mouth, his words stumbled out in an entirely unexpected way.

“Ah, I really liked Y/N…” He paused, realizing his mistake. The members erupted into laughter beside him. His ears turned red as he quickly corrected himself. “I mean—I really liked her outfit! Her outfit was really nice.”

Too late.

Hoshi was doubled over in laughter, Seungkwan was clutching his chest dramatically, and even DK was grinning wildly. The interviewer chuckled as well, catching onto the situation immediately.

“Oh? Just her outfit?” they teased.

Joshua groaned, covering his face with his hands. “You guys are the worst.”

Mingyu threw an arm around his shoulders. “Don’t worry, Josh. We totally believe you.”

2 month later

Arriving at the venue, she was immediately greeted by the staff, who ushered her backstage where Seventeen’s members were preparing for the concert. She was nervous yet excited, but the moment she saw Seungkwan, her anxiety faded away.

“Y/N!” he called out with a grin, immediately walking toward her and pulling her into a warm, friendly hug. “You actually came!”

“Of course! Thank you so much for the invite,” she laughed, returning his hug. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

Standing just behind Seungkwan was Joshua, who had been watching their interaction with a soft smile. As soon as their eyes met, he stepped forward, his expression gentle and welcoming.

“It’s good to see you again,” Joshua said with a quiet warmth in his voice.

Y/N smiled at him, a familiar feeling of comfort settling over her. “Likewise! I’m so excited for the show. I know you guys are going to absolutely kill it tonight.”

Joshua chuckled, the sound rich and sincere. “Let’s hope so. But if you’re here, we’ve definitely got to put on a good show.”

Y/N’s smile grew wider. “Trust me, I’ve already got my ticket to the best show in town.”

As the concert started, Y/N quickly found herself lost in the energy of the performance. The lights, the music, and the electrifying atmosphere surrounded her, and she couldn’t help but cheer loudly for the group. The stage presence of Seventeen was undeniable, and her admiration for them grew with every passing second.

During the show, Y/N and Joshua exchanged several quiet glances and smiles. At one point, she caught him watching her from the stage as she cheered them on. The camera then zoomed in on her, broadcasting her happy face on the massive screen above the crowd. The fans went wild, but what stood out to Y/N was the look on Joshua’s face as he gazed at her with an almost dreamy expression.

"So, how’s the modeling industry treating you?" Vernon asked, his curiosity piqued.

Y/N exhaled, leaning back slightly in her chair. "It’s been a ride," she began, her tone a little more serious now. "When I first started, I really struggled because of my height. I’m only 1.70m, and a lot of agencies didn’t want to take me on. They thought I was too short to make it in the runway business, so I started with photoshoots before I could even get a chance to walk on the runway."

"That’s crazy," Mingyu said, clearly shocked. "You would never guess you had trouble with how confident you are on stage now."

Y/N chuckled, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "It took time. A lot of time, actually. But here I am."

Dino, who had been quietly listening, suddenly spoke up with a curious smile. "Wait, how old are you, actually?"

Y/N paused for a second, surprised by the question. She smiled softly, thinking about how much had happened in such a short time. "I’m 25," she said, her voice light, as if it were no big deal.

The group looked at her, some members surprised by how young she was. Joshua raised an eyebrow, a playful smile on his lips. "25? Wow, you’ve accomplished a lot for your age."

Y/N shrugged modestly, a playful twinkle in her eyes. "Guess I’m just getting started."

The conversation flowed easily after that, with everyone exchanging more stories and sharing laughter. It was a relaxing and natural moment, one that made Y/N feel right at home among the group. The bonds between them were quickly forming, and for Y/N, it felt like the beginning of a beautiful friendship.

As the night wore on, Y/N felt more and more comfortable with the group. They were kind and funny, and the chemistry between them felt natural. The conversation moved from her modeling experiences to more lighthearted topics. Laughter filled the room as everyone shared their thoughts on everything from food to travel.

Eventually, the management asked them to take some PR photos. Y/N posed for a group shot with the members, and then some solo photos with each member, including Joshua. They exchanged playful glances, and Y/N couldn't help but smile as she stood next to him for the shot. There was something about the way he looked at her that made her feel special, as though the moment between them was more than just a friendly photo op.

“Let’s make a quick TikTok!” the manager suggested, and everyone excitedly agreed. Y/N, who had no idea what she was getting herself into, found herself attempting a Seventeen dance. She had seen it performed, but doing it herself was a whole different ballgame. Her movements were stiff and awkward at first, but the group laughed together, encouraging her to try again.

"You’re doing great, Y/N," Joshua said with a warm chuckle, making her blush slightly.

After a few takes, they finally managed to get a good shot, with everyone applauding her for her effort. “Alright, I think I still need a few dance lessons,” Y/N joked, causing another round of laughter. "Yeah you actually do." Hoshi laughed.

As the night came to a close, the group gathered for a final round of goodbyes. Y/N hugged each of them, thanking them for the wonderful time and promising to catch up again soon.

“I really hope I can see you guys perform again sometime,” she said with a smile and left.

“Dude, why didn’t you ask for her number?” Seungkwan teased, nudging Joshua with his elbow.

Joshua’s face turned a little pink, his eyes darting around nervously. “I—uh, I didn’t want to make things awkward…” he muttered.

“Awkward?” DK chuckled. “Man, even a blind person could see the chemistry between you two. You’re clearly into each other.”

Joshua sighed, realizing his hesitation had cost him a chance to connect with her. Without thinking twice, he excused himself and rushed out the door, determined to make things right.

He found her in the parking lot, just about to get into her car. He called out to her, breathless from running.

“Y/N, wait!” he shouted.

Y/N turned, a surprised smile spreading across her face. “Oh! What’s up?”

Joshua stood there, unsure of how to start, but his desire to make a connection with her pushed him forward. "I... I’d really like to get to know you better. Would you be interested in that?"

Y/N let out a light laugh, her eyes sparkling. “I was starting to think you’d never ask,” she teased, taking out her phone. “Here, I’ll give you my number.”

Joshua’s heart leapt at the exchange, his fingers trembling as he typed his name into her phone. “Thank you,” he said softly, unable to stop the smile that spread across his face.

Y/N’s eyes twinkled with mischief. “I’ll be in Seoul for about two more weeks,” she added, a playful hint in her voice. “Maybe we could meet up again before I leave?”

Joshua felt like he was walking on air. “I’d like that… a lot.”

With one last lingering look, Y/N got into her car and drove off, leaving Joshua standing in the parking lot with a smile that wouldn’t fade. The night had taken an unexpected turn, but he couldn’t help but feel like this was just the beginning of something special.

As he returned to the backstage area, the other members immediately began teasing him again.

“Finally,” Seungkwan grinned, nudging him. “It took you long enough!”

Joshua just laughed, shaking his head. “I couldn’t let her get away. Besides, it’s not every day I get to meet someone as amazing as her.”

That night, as Joshua lay in bed, his mind replayed the events. He couldn’t believe how easily Y/N had slipped into his thoughts and how quickly everything had changed in the span of a few hours. He looked forward to seeing her again, hoping that the next time they met, it would be the start of something even more unforgettable.

[cherryblossom-heart]

Stealing the spotlight (Media coverage)

Model!Satoru x Makeup Artist!Reader

<Previous chapter. Next Chapter>

New Faces Light Up Aether Vision Runway: Suguru Geto and Kento Nanami Shine, While Satoru Gojo Falls Short

Osaka, Japan – The Aether Vision Runway event, designed to spotlight fresh talent hoping to make their mark in the modeling industry, proved to be an unforgettable night—but not for the same reasons for everyone involved. While Suguru Geto and Kento Nanami impressed with their poise and professionalism, Satoru Gojo’s flamboyant performance left much to be desired, casting a shadow over what could have been a promising debut.

The event brought together aspiring models from across Japan, offering them a chance to showcase their skills in front of industry insiders. Among the hopefuls, Geto, Nanami, and Gojo stood out as the night’s most talked-about participants.

Suguru Geto quickly established himself as the highlight of the show, exuding confidence and charisma as he commanded the runway. His ability to embody the mood of each outfit, paired with his intense, magnetic presence, left the audience captivated. Industry insiders have already begun speculating that Geto’s performance may open doors beyond modeling, with rumors of casting offers for both fashion campaigns and film roles circulating after the show.

“Suguru has that rare ability to make you stop and watch,” said one casting agent. “He understands how to tell a story without saying a word.”

Kento Nanami also left a lasting impression, albeit with a very different approach. His clean-cut style and quiet elegance stood in stark contrast to the dramatic flair of the event’s theme, but it worked in his favor. Nanami’s composed demeanor on the runway resonated with audiences and industry professionals alike, showcasing a classic charm that some say is sorely missing in modern fashion. Whispers suggest Nanami may already be in talks for future international runway shows, as well as appearances in television dramas.

“Kento is the kind of model who can fit anywhere, whether it’s on a high-end runway or in front of a camera,” commented one fashion journalist. “His versatility is going to take him far.”

Satoru Gojo, on the other hand, struggled to find the right balance between personality and professionalism. His bold style and cheeky attitude generated excitement leading up to the event, but his performance on the runway failed to live up to the hype. Gojo’s exaggerated gestures, such as repeatedly adjusting his sunglasses and breaking into playful smirks, drew more laughter than admiration. Many felt his antics detracted from the outfits he was meant to highlight.

“Satoru definitely caught attention, but not for the right reasons,” said a fashion insider. “He has the charisma, but he needs to remember that the runway is about showcasing the designs, not himself.”

Despite the criticism, Gojo’s natural charm and striking appearance still garnered some attention, with whispers of potential casting in light-hearted commercials and possibly even action-oriented projects. However, his road to establishing himself as a serious model might require some reevaluation.

Social media buzzed with commentary after the event, with hashtags like #GetoBreakout and #NanamiElegance trending, while #GojoOverhyped became the center of heated debate. Fans of all three models defended their favorites, but even Gojo’s supporters acknowledged that his performance didn’t meet expectations.

As Aether Vision Runway closes its doors, the future seems bright for Suguru Geto and Kento Nanami, whose professionalism and talent have made them names to watch in the industry. For Satoru Gojo, this debut served as a learning experience—and perhaps a reminder that charm alone won’t always carry the day.

[lillymmb]

can u write something about drew x model reader

maybe drew gets invited to a fashion show (versace, dolce, etc) and becomes completely mesmerized by her as she walks down the runway. then at the after party drew goes up to talk to her and they just have amazing chemistry and banter.

if u do end up writing this - THANK YOU 🫶🏽

"Glamorous Love"

drew starkey x model!reader

warnings: none

a/n: awwww thanks for the idea and sorry for taking soooooo long to do this😊

Drew Starkey leaned against the bar, a glass of whiskey in hand, his gaze sweeping the glamorous crowd at the after-party. The air buzzed with excitement from the fashion show that had just wrapped up. Versace had pulled out all the stops this year, and Drew couldn't help but feel a rush of admiration for the boldness and creativity of the designers. But there was one thing that had captivated him more than anything else: you.

The moment you stepped onto the runway, time seemed to slow. The lights caught the shimmer of your dress, a breathtaking combination of gold and black that hugged your figure perfectly. Your confidence was undeniable—each step you took echoed with poise, a magnetic force drawing everyone’s attention. Drew couldn’t look away, as though you were the only person in the room, the only person in the world.

And when you turned, your eyes met his for a split second, like you knew exactly how much he was drawn to you.

Now, here he was at the after-party, trying to shake off the lingering effect your presence had on him. It wasn't just your beauty—though that was undeniable—it was the way you carried yourself, effortlessly commanding the room, that had him completely mesmerized.

As the minutes ticked by, Drew's curiosity grew stronger. He didn't want to just watch from the sidelines anymore. He needed to meet you.

Spotting you near the center of the room, surrounded by a small group of people, he felt his heart rate pick up. You were laughing, your voice light and melodic, your body language easy and relaxed. It was impossible not to notice the natural charm you exuded. Drew hesitated for just a moment, a fleeting doubt creeping in. What if you weren’t interested? But he pushed it aside. He wasn’t here to second-guess himself.

He strode over with a quiet confidence, a smile playing on his lips.

"Excuse me," he said smoothly, catching your eye as the others in your group fell away, seemingly sensing the connection between you two. "I think I need to thank you."

You raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Thank me? For what?"

"For giving the runway a real show tonight," Drew replied, his voice low but warm. "I’m Drew, by the way." He extended his hand.

You glanced at his hand, then back up at him, your lips curving into a knowing smile. "I know who you are. You're hard to miss."

Drew chuckled, slightly taken aback. “Fair enough. I suppose you’d be the one to know, seeing as you were the one who had everyone’s eyes on you.”

“Flattery will get you everywhere,” you teased, your tone light but flirtatious. You reached out, shaking his hand, feeling a little spark of chemistry the moment your palms met.

He leaned in slightly, lowering his voice. "So, what does a model like you do after a show like that?"

"Drink overpriced champagne and pretend to enjoy small talk with people I barely know," you said, glancing around the room with a wry smile. "But I might make an exception for someone who actually knows how to hold a conversation."

Drew’s grin widened, the spark between you both undeniable now. "I think I could handle that."

You eyed him for a moment, your curiosity piqued. “Alright, then. What do you want to talk about?"

"How about the fact that I just watched you turn a runway into your own personal stage?" Drew said, his voice laced with admiration. “Tell me, do you know the power you have?”

You leaned back slightly, intrigued by the direction the conversation was going. "I’m just doing my job. But power, huh? What makes you say that?”

Drew’s eyes held yours as he spoke, his gaze intense but playful. “It’s in the way you move, the way you own every step. It’s hard not to get caught up in it.”

You chuckled, the sound like music to his ears. “Well, someone’s getting smooth.”

“I’m being sincere,” he insisted, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

There was a pause as you studied him, the electric tension between you growing. “Maybe I’ll believe you... If you keep up with me on this conversation,” you teased.

Drew laughed, not missing a beat. “Challenge accepted.”

For the next hour, you and Drew effortlessly slid into conversation, the banter flowing with an ease neither of you had expected. The chemistry between you was palpable, each laugh shared, each look exchanged adding more fuel to the fire that had ignited between you two. He found himself drawn to your quick wit, the way you could challenge him without hesitation, your intelligence and humor captivating him just as much as your beauty.

At some point, the music grew louder and the crowd around you thickened. Drew found himself inching closer to you, not caring about the noise or the distractions, completely absorbed in the moment. He reached up to brush a stray lock of hair behind your ear, the gesture intimate in its simplicity.

“I have to ask,” he murmured, his lips just a breath away from your ear. “How does someone like you end up in a place like this? You’re like a star in a world full of bright lights.”

You turned your head slightly, your lips brushing against his ear as you spoke. “Maybe I’m just looking for someone who can handle the spotlight.”

Drew chuckled softly, his breath catching in his throat. “I think I’m up for the challenge.”

Without thinking, he closed the small distance between you two, his lips finding yours in a kiss that was both electrifying and effortless. It wasn’t rushed or full of urgency—it was a kiss that felt like it had been building since the moment you’d locked eyes earlier on the runway.

When you finally pulled away, your foreheads resting against each other, Drew smiled against your skin. "You sure know how to leave a lasting impression."

You grinned, your fingers brushing lightly over his chest. “So do you."

And just like that, in the chaos of a bustling fashion show after-party, you both found something more than the fleeting glamour of the night. It felt real, something that could burn just as bright as the runway itself.

[corruptedcaps]

Model Behaviour

Liam paced his tiny workshop, his fingers twitching nervously as he glanced at the nearly completed bodysuit hanging in front of him. The latex and silicone masterpiece shimmered under the harsh overhead light, an uncanny recreation of the fictional supermodel girlfriend he’d spent the past year bragging about.

Maddy sat on a stool, arms crossed, her expression a mix of annoyance and disbelief.

“This is insane, Liam, I can’t believe I’m even considering this.” She said.

Liam stopped pacing and turned to her, pleading. “Maddy, you’re my best friend. You know I didn’t mean for this to happen. It just… got out of hand.”

“You could’ve just told the truth at any point,” Maddy shot back. “Instead, you built that.” She gestured at the suit.

“I panicked, okay? And now, if I don’t show up with ‘Sophie,’ my career is over. They’ll never take me seriously again.” He said, his face distraught at the thought.

Maddy sighed, shaking her head. “Ok fine let’s do it.” Liam lit up with excitement.

“The suit’s fully functional. It even has built-in voice modulation. You’ll look, sound, and… act just like her.”

“Wait, act?” Maddy raised an eyebrow. “What does that mean?”

Liam hesitated, scratching the back of his neck. “I may have added a… personality enhancer. You know, to make you more convincing. A touch of… um… supermodel flair.”

Maddy’s eyes narrowed. “Define ‘supermodel flair.’”

“There’s no time, just know it’s just a little conditioning to help you out is all.” He said hoping his house of cards won’t topple.

Maddy glared at him but stood up. “This better not mess with my head, Liam. If I end up on a therapist’s couch because of this, you’re paying the bill.”

“Noted,” Liam said, handing her the suit. “Now, let’s get you suited up.”

Minutes later, Maddy stood in front of the mirror, transformed. The suit hugged her frame perfectly, the flawless blonde hair cascading down her shoulders. Her lips were pouty, her posture effortlessly poised. She turned slowly, her reflection almost unrecognizable.

She placed a hand on her chest, running her fingers over her impressive boobs. “That’s… me?” Her voice, now sultry and smooth, startled her.

“Pretty convincing, huh?” Liam said nervously from behind her. “You look incredible.”

Maddy tilted her head, studying herself. A sly smile crept onto her lips. “Of course I am. Incredible doesn’t even begin to cover it.”

Liam frowned. “Maddy? You okay?”

Maddy adjusted the shimmering blonde hair cascading over her shoulders, her heart pounding as she stared at her transformed reflection. This was her chance, the closest she’d ever get to being Liam’s girlfriend, even if it was just pretend. It was the main reason she had agreed to do it in the first place.

And yet as she gazed at her new and improved body a voice in the back of her head was telling her that Liam didn’t deserve her now that she could have any man she wanted now. The voice made her hunger.

“Of course I do, darling.” She purred, her modulated voice smooth and sultry. She struck a playful pose, a mix of teasing and allure. It felt incredibly natural. “Now can we get going, I NEED to be seen.”

A few hours later Liam stood near the drinks table, awkwardly nursing a glass of sparkling water as his coworkers mingled around him. His eyes kept darting to Maddy, who was currently surrounded by a captivated crowd, her laugh ringing through the air like music.

She was wearing the dress that she demanded he buy her on the way to the party. A shorter than short red dress that she insisted was festive but also showed off her long legs and ample chest. She was the center of attention, and Liam could hardly believe how flawlessly Maddy had pulled this off, or rather, how flawlessly the suit had.

As he watched her endless charm his colleagues, his boss, David, sauntered over to Maddy with a confident grin. David was tall, broad-shouldered, and had a reputation for his charm. Liam’s stomach sank as he watched David lean in, clearly flirting.

“Liam, she’s stunning!” Claire from accounting exclaimed, sidling up beside him, blocking his view of Maddy. “You were underselling her. No wonder you were so smitten.”

“Uh, yeah, she’s, uh… one of a kind.” Liam muttered, forcing a smile.

“So, Sophie, Liam’s been keeping you a secret from us for too long. What do you do?” David asked, his voice smooth.

Maddy tilted her head, a playful smile curving her lips. She was drinking in David. A man like him would never have took a second look at a girl like her before. A girl like Maddy.

“Oh but you’re not Maddy anymore remember?” The voice said in her mind, now louder than before. “You’re Sophie a beauty queen, who knows a king when she sees them.”

The words weee accompanied by a dumping of endorphins that made her eyes flutter a little and a soft moan pass through her lips.

“Are you alright?” David asks with actual concern.

Maddy felt a flush of lust come over here as concern etched David’s face. “Mmm I’m sorry, it’s just I was taken by your good looks for a moment. It’s made me light headed.” She said biting her bottom lip at him. He looked a little taken aback by it himself but was still intrigued.

Placing his hand on her lower back he started to guide her way from the noise of the party. “Why don’t you sit down? I know the perfect place.” He said to her with a knowing smirk which she returned.

Meanwhile Liam was still trying to break away from his conversation with Claire. “I know why don’t I introduce you.” He finally said after ten minutes of her gushing about how amazing ‘Sophie’ looks.

However as he glanced back toward where Maddy had been he found her to be gone. His eyes scanned the room frantically until he spotted her. He left Claire to go deeper into the office, far from where the office party noise was. However as that sound died, a new one took its place. The sound of a woman moaning and panting.

Liam turned the corner and saw Maddy sitting on David’s lap, jumping up and down as she moaned like a wanton whore.

Liam froze, his stomach flipping. “No. No, no, no…”

He pushed through the cubicles, his mind racing. By the time he burst through the door, Maddy was running her fingers through her hair as her eyes rolled into the back of her head, climaxing and completely lost in the moment.

“Sophie!” Liam blurted.

She pulled back, her expression still utter bliss as her orgasm settled. However as the afterglow of it faded so too did her euphoria, as it shifted into something cool and indifferent. But also something else in her eyes that Liam couldn’t place. “Oh, Liam. There you are.”

David looked between them, smirking. “Sorry, buddy. Didn’t realize she was off-limits.”

“She’s… she’s my girlfriend!” Liam stammered, his voice trembling.

Maddy raised a perfectly arched brow. “Girlfriend? Liam, don’t be so possessive. It’s unbecoming.”

Liam blinked, stunned. “What?”

David chuckled as he did up his pants. He clapped Liam on the shoulder, as he said “Relax, Liam. She’s just being friendly.”

“Friendly?!” Liam’s voice rose. “You were fucking!”

Maddy sighed dramatically, turning back to David. “He’s always so sensitive. Isn’t it adorable?”

David laughed, clearly amused.

“Meet me back at the party hot stuff.” She said, kissing David on the lips in front of an irate Liam. David smacked her on the ass as he sauntered out back to the party.

Liam’s face burned with embarrassment and frustration. “Maddy, what the hell are you doing?”

“Maddy? Who the hell is Maddy? Have you had one too many cosmos?” She said sharply, her voice dripping with condescension.

“This isn’t you!” Liam hissed, lowering his voice. “It’s the suit messing with your head.”

Her eyes narrowed, and she crossed her arms. “What suit? What the hell are you talking about?”

Liam froze, the words catching in his throat. “The suit, you’re wearing a suit! I built it, remember? You’re not really… this. You’re Maddy!”

She laughed, a harsh, hollow sound that made his stomach churn. “You’ve lost it, Liam. Is this ‘Maddy’ one of your friends you have a crush on or something?”

“No, no, no!” He stammered, his voice cracking. “You’re Maddy! You’re my best friend! We put this plan together, remember? You’re wearing a suit that I—”

“Stop it!” She snapped, her eyes blazing. “Do you hear how insane you sound? A suit? Ugh… at least you losing the plot will make this a lot easier.”

Liam looked at her confused. “Make what easier?”

Maddy let a smirk curl up on her lips, clearly revelling in what she was about to do. “We’re done. Honestly I don’t know why we were even together in the first place.”

Liam shook his head, his pulse pounding in his ears. “Maddy, listen to me. You’re not thinking clearly. The suit, it’s altering your mind. You have to fight it.”

She took a step closer, towering over him in her heels, her presence somehow larger than life. “You’re pathetic.” She said, her voice low and cutting. “You can’t handle the fact that I’ve outgrown you. That I don’t need you. You’re the one who’s confused, Liam. Not me.”

His heart sank as she turned on her heel and strutted back toward the party, her laughter floating over the sound of the music.

Liam stood there, frozen, his mind racing. She didn’t remember the suit. She didn’t remember who she really was. She was Sophie, his perfect girlfriend who wanted nothing to do with him.

[preppyacademy]

Breaking and Remaking : No Thoughts, Only Obedience

Kyle or Prescott's story

Kyle was in his senior year of high school and part of the football team. Academics were secondary for him—it was sports in the morning, sports at noon, and sports in the evening. He hoped to earn a scholarship by being one of the top athletes in his school. Unfortunately, Kyle always acted before thinking, which sometimes led to avoidable accidents.

One game night in early November, his team faced an opposing high school team. Kyle, prone to arrogance, didn’t warm up much, believing he didn’t need to—after all, he was one of the strongest players. His team was scoring well, but in the final decisive minutes, time seemed to slow down. Rain had started to fall, making the field slick. As he caught the ball mid-air, Kyle slipped on the wet grass and crashed violently to the ground before being tackled by several other players. His teammates, still in action, grabbed the ball and scored, securing victory.

As for Kyle, he ended the night in the hospital. His team won, but his medical results were far from victorious. A fractured collarbone, six to twelve weeks of recovery, immobilization, and rehabilitation. He was told he had to remain bedridden for weeks before he could even move.

Kyle had no choice. The hospital that admitted him had to transfer him to a specialized rehabilitation center, located six hours away but renowned as one of the best. His family spared no expense, wanting only the best care for him.

Upon arriving at the hospital, Kyle felt well received. He quickly noticed that most of the staff were male, which struck him as unusual. He was assigned to Dr. Pritchard.

Dr. Pritchard: "You’ll be well taken care of here. You’ll be staying with us for at least six weeks, possibly ten if your condition doesn’t improve. I hope we’ll get along well."

Kyle: "I hope so too."

The first few nights, Kyle struggled to sleep. The feeling of being far from home and his friends weighed heavily on him. Moreover, a low, constant noise resonated throughout his room—a repeating frequency that played over and over. The following nights were the same, but Kyle gradually became accustomed to the sound.

Dr. Pritchard: "I know time may feel slow, but here, rehabilitation is not just about physical recovery—it’s also about relaxing your mind and body. From now on, no more phone screens. We took yours last night. You need rest and must adapt to our institution’s methods."

Kyle was furious but couldn’t fight back—his body was in too much pain, forcing him to comply with the medical staff’s instructions. How was he supposed to survive weeks without his phone?

Dr. Pritchard: "When you wake up, the screens in your room will display relaxation and meditation videos. Follow them, and you’ll see—time will pass much more quickly here."

The next morning marked the beginning of Kyle’s first session with the videos. They consisted of breathing techniques and mantras to repeat. A spiral accompanied the voice-over, guiding him through the instructions.

Kyle, repeating the words: "I feel good, my body is relaxed, I let myself be carried by the waves, my mind sinks deeper into the abyss, I feel calm, every word I hear is a new way of thinking to embrace, to listen, and to learn."

Each day, Kyle was captivated—hypnotized—by these screens, which seemed to absorb his attention completely. Slowly, his thoughts began to change, and time passed in a rhythm dictated by the spiral and the mantras. Over time, the words evolved into something else.

Kyle, repeating the words: "I feel good, I am happy, my body is relaxed, my mind sinks deeper into the abyss. I am obedient, I listen to what I am told, I must act as I am instructed, I feel calm, I love to obey, I want to learn to obey."

As the days and weeks passed, Kyle healed not only physically but mentally as well, thanks to the soothing words of the spiral. His mind was gradually shaped into a model of perfection, discipline, and obedience.

Kyle: "I wish to submit to the orders of superior men, I wish to obey them, I wish to be submissive. I wish to be submissive. I wish to be submissive."

Dr. Pritchard: "Good boy. You have found true relaxation within your body."

Like a machine executing programmed instructions, Kyle regained mobility in his body. His absolute obedience, now stripped of all arrogance and rebellion, made rehabilitation much easier.

Then, the final week of his stay arrived. Kyle sat on his bed, staring into the distance, still repeating the obedience mantra.

Kyle: "I listen, I obey, I serve. My will is that of the Academy. To doubt is to fail. To resist is to fall. Order is my truth, obedience is my virtue. I bend, I disappear, I become. Every command is an honor, every task a privilege. I do not need to think—only to answer: Yes, Sir."

Dr. Pritchard: "Good boy, you make me proud. You’ve done well in your exercises, and now, after ten weeks, your time with us has come to an end. Unfortunately, we must make room for new arrivals like you."

Kyle: "Yes, Sir."

Dr. Pritchard: "As you say—'your will is that of the Academy.' Your mind has been shaped for the Academy—the Preppy Academy, to be precise. Would you like to join the Academy, my boy?"

Kyle: "Yes, Sir."

Dr. Pritchard: "You no longer wish to return to your old high school, correct?"

Kyle: "Yes, Sir."

Dr. Pritchard: "You will remain a good boy—obedient and disciplined?"

Kyle: "Yes, Sir."

Dr. Pritchard: "We will now relieve you of these hospital clothes—you no longer need them."

Dr. Pritchard placed a harmonization device over Kyle’s head. It resembled a large lamp with a metallic tube beneath it, sending electric signals into the subject’s brain. He activated it while Kyle continued to chant his desire to obey.

Kyle remained immobilized, paralyzed by the machine—unable to move of his own will. In his mind, the words "Obedience," "Submission," "Discipline" flashed over and over again.

Two nurses arrived, cut off Kyle's clothes and stripped him naked. Dr. Pritchard pulled a chastity cage from a drawer and locked Kyle's penis in it. He locked the cage and gave the key to a nurse, who left with it.

Dr. Pritchard: "You'll learn that your sex is no longer of any use to you; it belongs to the Academy. You only need it to urinate, because that's a natural need. But to urinate, you'll have to ask permission. If you feel pleasure, your penis, now the size of a phalanx, will be compressed, you'll feel pain and you'll learn to live with pain. Pain is a gift to be cherished, the very essence of a good Preppy Academy student. The more time passes, the more you won't even feel it anymore, you'll get used to what you've become."

Kyle: "Yes, Sir."

Kyle did not flinch. Who he had been just weeks ago had disappeared into the abyss of his mind. Sometimes, though rarely now, he could hear a faint inner voice telling him this wasn’t him, urging him to fight. But that voice was slowly drowning beneath the waves of his consciousness.

Dr. Pritchard: "Now, we will dress you. You haven't learned this here yet, but you will soon understand that being a good boy means being elegant at all times. Appearance is an extension of your obedience. It’s not about having style—it’s about proving your submission through every detail of your attire. Dressing preppy is fundamental. It is a duty, not a choice."

Kyle: "Yes, Sir."

Kyle was dressed from head to toe, like a boy being sent off to school. A neatly pressed, button-down plaid white shirt, tucked into light khaki shorts held up by thick brown suspenders. Long white socks and polished black loafers completed the outfit, along with a large, subtly checkered bow tie.

When Dr. Pritchard tied the bow tie around Kyle’s neck, Kyle opened his mouth—not in surprise, but as if this attire had been meant for him all along, as if the relaxation of feeling truly himself in this clothing had loosened his jaw. His body and mind understood: he was meant to be a good preppy boy.

Dr. Pritchard: "That’s a good boy."

By late morning, Kyle was transferred to the Preppy Academy, placed in a class appropriate for his age. He was quickly integrated among other students eager to learn submission, obedience, and discipline.

He embraced the academy’s dress code without hesitation, developing a particular fondness for plaid patterns—the very motif Dr. Pritchard had introduced him to. In time, the administration and Kyle himself sent a letter to his family, informing them of his transfer and his wish to continue his education at the Preppy Academy.

Kyle’s father had heard of the institution through a friend whose son had returned home completely transformed—eventually becoming the family’s butler. Pleased with the results, and reassured that this was Kyle’s own request, his parents placed their trust in him.

Dr. Pritchard frequently visited the Academy to check on Kyle. Over time, he began calling him Prescott—his middle name—which suited him far better and carried a more refined sound.

Dr. Pritchard became Master to Prescott, who, with the Academy’s approval, would come to serve him every weekend—submissive and obedient. For example, he offered him his mouth to be filled with the doctor's cock from times to times.

Dr. Pritchard decided how Prescott should dress. He had even noticed during Prescott’s hospitalization that he often squinted from staring at the spiral for too long. As a result, he gifted him a pair of elegant glasses—enhancing his preppy and exemplary style even further.

Far from the field, far from his arrogance, Prescott had become a good boy. He could thank the Preppy Academy for that.

Who’s next?

[zcoordinate]

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[brittanyearnestauthor]

Discovering How to Write Character Qualities Effectively

When crafting characters, it’s essential to give them qualities that make them likeable, relatable, and believable. In this post, I’ll outline a variety of character traits to help you build well-rounded, engaging characters that will captivate your readers.

Character Qualities to Consider

- Confidence: Characters with confidence are likeable and flexible in their actions, giving you plenty of opportunities to explore different storylines.

- Conscientiousness: This quality drives characters to approach tasks thoroughly and live intentionally, adding depth and realism to their lives.

- Creativity: Creative characters can have diverse hobbies, unique jobs, or a mix of both, making them more intriguing and complex.

- Curiosity: A curious character feels relatable and allows for expanded character and plot development.

- Humility: Humble characters are easier to root for, offering opportunities for mentorship or role model dynamics in your story.

- Patience: Patience helps pace your story effectively, allowing for valuable lessons and more nuanced narratives.

- Affection: Affectionate characters feel more believable and foster strong emotional connections with others.

- Compassion: Compassionate characters are sympathetic and helpful, contributing to growth and development within your story.

- Discipline: A disciplined character adds complexity, especially in action-driven stories, where training and focus play significant roles.

- Gratitude: Characters who express gratitude tend to be likeable and can bring warmth to your narrative.

- Loyalty: Loyal characters strengthen relationships and create positive opportunities to advance the story.

- Openness to Change: This trait allows you to write impactful plot twists with believable character reactions.

- Optimism: Optimistic characters showcase hope and positivity, offering endless opportunities for uplifting storytelling.

- Respectfulness: Respectful characters fit seamlessly into your story while avoiding unnecessary negativity.

- Ambition: Ambitious characters bring determination and drive, making them engaging and easier to write.

- Courage: Courageous characters open doors to explore compelling narratives filled with challenges and triumphs.

- Cheerfulness: Cheerful characters can serve as a source of support and positivity for others in your story.

- Honesty: Honest characters inspire trust and give you creative freedom to explore integrity-based plots.

- Adaptability: Adaptable characters thrive in varied situations, offering flexibility in storytelling.

- Consistency: Consistent characters help maintain narrative focus while allowing audiences to connect with them more effectively.

- Empathy: Empathetic characters can understand and share emotions, balancing negative and positive interactions.

- Flexibility: Flexible characters bring versatility, making your story dynamic and engaging.

- Persistence: Persistent characters pursue their goals despite obstacles, creating space for challenges and twists that highlight their strengths.

- Adventurousness: Adventurous characters open the door to exciting, diverse stories that resonate with audiences.

- Trustworthiness: Trustworthy characters build meaningful relationships, simplifying character bonding and progression.

- Reliability: Reliable characters help create cohesive plotlines and believable team dynamics.

- Punctuality: Punctual characters can serve as a contrast to those who are not, offering opportunities for teachable moments.

- Integrity: Characters with integrity are multifaceted and adaptable, adding richness to your narrative.

- Courtesy: Polite characters bring warmth and the potential for heartfelt, meaningful stories.

- Accountability: Accountable characters allow for compelling plots centered on responsibility and consequences.

- Diligence: Hardworking characters help avoid plot holes and elevate believability in achieving goals.

- Perseverance: Characters with perseverance inspire through their determination and ability to overcome challenges.

- Generosity: Generous characters open opportunities for narratives about selflessness and helping others.

- Consideration: Considerate characters make strong leaders and reinforce the value of empathy and kindness.

- Kindness: Kind characters evoke emotion and create heartfelt stories with universal appeal.

- Fairness: Fair characters are ideal for roles such as judges, lawyers, or public officials, offering integrity in positions of influence.

- Self-Control: Self-control adds complexity by exploring how much a character can endure before reaching their limits.

Conclusion

By giving your characters well-rounded qualities, you’ll have endless opportunities to develop them into the perfect "actors" for your story. Use this list as a guide, but feel free to adapt these traits to suit your narrative. With thoughtful character development, your writing will become more engaging and impactful.

Happy writing!

[thesimselfsworld]

Idol Profiles Part 1: Rising Starlight

x - Lily Lovett

Lily is a newcomer idol who debuted with the group Bl*ssful Five where she is considered the center. Despite her shyness and clumsiness on stage, which make her stage presence abysmal, she has steadily gained recognition for her vocal talent, with each performance showing how she's been gradually improving.

It is also rumored that she is a relative of Liam Bishop, a popular model who may or may not have helped her break into the industry.

x - Tsumugi Inoue

After a year with her group SBY49, of which she was formerly the center, Tsumugi has decided to break away from the group and the tutelage of her older brother Francis Mikadzuki, also known as choreographer FRNZ, and take her career into her own hands (supposedly by choice), now riding solo and captivating the audience with her carefully curated charm. However, due to allegations of nepotism and her reportedly unpleasant offstage behavior, the name "Tsumugi" has become quite controversial in fandom spaces on social media.

[simphornies]

Glitchy [ Vox x F!Reader ] pt. 2 (NSFW)

A/N: Was not expecting the attention the last one got. I already had a part 2 in my head as soon as I posted it. Sorry if the writing is off! I'm a bit rusty. Enjoy!

MINORS DNI

Warnings: smut, teasing, light bondage(?), oral, creampie

Velvette's fashion show was ongoing. She somehow set you up to model one of her latest pieces as the grand finale. You liked to dress up but being in front of crowds that didn't involve killing made you nervous. "C'mon bitch! Are you ready?" She switches up your hair into a fitting updo, showing off your TV wire inspired earrings. "Oh Vox is going to love this one." To be honest, you did want to tease Vox a little bit to get back at him for spying on you. Valentino sneaked you into his office while he was asleep at his desk and you saw that most of the cameras were paused on you. "Did you really put on a whole show to fuck with him?" You asked, straightening out the skirt she had you put on, "And does this outfit have to be this short. You know I don't like showing off too much skin. Gives too much to look at." Your statement made Velvette and Valentino laugh, "Babe, with a body like that you should be showing off. It's almost a crime to keep them hidden." Val slaps your ass and pushed you towards the curtain, "You're almost up, knock Vox dead. Do that move I showed you too."

You rolled your eyes at them and walked away. Val looks down at Velvette, "$100 bucks if he short-circuits." She grinned, "$100 if he gets up and they fuck later." The two shook on their deal and walked around to get to their seats.

Vox didn't typically sit for Velvette's shows but you had asked him to show up because of a piece you said you wanted him to see. The two other Vees sit next to him, "You look like you're having the time of your life, Vox." Val teased. "Fuck off, if Y/N didn't ask me to be here, I wouldn't be. Where is she anyways? I would expect her to be here considering she wants me to see this piece so bad." Velvette gasps, "Wow. So you wouldn't even show up to my show if I told you to come? I'm so hurt." Her words filled with sarcasm. "Shut up. It's almost time for her part."

Vox blinked, "What? What do you mean he-" Her finger covered his mouth and Val moved his head to look at the stage, blowing out some smoke for "effect" as you make your way down the catwalk.

You donned a gorgeous off shoulder top that showed too much, or too little as Val would say, of your cleavage. A skin tight skirt that rode up a little bit as you walked the catwalk hugged your hips. Above your skirt, the strings of your thong (that Velvette insisted you wore) peeked over adding a little extra flair. And the best part? You were of course in Vox's signature colors. You did a spin showing off the outfit and scanned the crowd. Your eyes locked with Vox's and you smirked as you thought about what Val taught you hours before. You bent over in his direction, one hand on your knee and one hand on your hip. You spun on your red bottom heels and posed one last time for the cameras, looking at Vox before leaving him with a wink. You looked away as soon as you see his screen glitch, red liquid oozing from the side of his mouth.

After the show, you put on a mesh coat. Velvette came running at you with a hug, "You did wonderful! I knew you could nail that. Have you seen the ratings?" She whipped out her phone with an article raving about the latest show with you front and center of the pictures, "The people love you! And the sales are coming in." You smiled, happy that you impressed the fashion critic herself. "Glad I could make you proud, Velv." Claps came from behind you and you turn to see Valentino and Vox, walking side by side. "Amazing work, sweetie. You nailed the tit show." He smiled, giving you a hug as well. "Thanks Val. I would never have done that move if you didn't teach me the art of captivating an audience with my tits. You're the master." You elbowed the tall sex demon. "So, did you like the show Vox?" You looked up at him, trying to make the eye contact that he wasn't reciprocating. "Come on~ Did my tits glitch you out." You teased. He cleared his throat, finally making eye contact with you with his signature smile. "I already knew you were hot, baby. I love the color combo." He gives you a hug, whispering into your ear, "Did you do that on purpose to fuck with me?" "Pfff. Me? Why would I ever do such a thing?" You spin around and pulled Velvette close to you, arm over her shoulder, "Besides, I'm not the fashion genius here. She is." Velvette gave him a teasing look and laughed, "Oh I would never! You're reading too much into it. Now shoo, Y/N and I have an afterparty to go to!"

You weren't a fan of parties but Velvette insisted you come. Well, she bribed you with some drinks. You grab a glass of wine and walked out of the club to get a breath of fresh air. As you scrolled through your phone, you see from the corner of your eye a familiar red figure walking towards you. It was the radio demon himself, Alastor. "Alastor! Pleasure to be meeting you. Quite the pleasure!" He grabs your hand to shake it, "I've seen your influence around town from the latest fashion show put on by the overlord Velvette and might I say you're quite the stunning lady." He plants a kiss on the back of your hand. You had your guards up, this was Alastor. The demon that brought down overlords as soon as he manifested into hell. What the fuck could he want from you? "Thank you for the praise." You say as you pull your hand away from him, "What can I do for you, Alastor sir?" You back up slightly, taking steps back towards the entrance of the club hoping Velvette could see the predicament you're in. "Nothing too much. I just have a couple of...questions for you, my dear!" He grins menacingly, "You seem to be in close quarters with Vox, would you like to make a deal?" You scoff, "A deal? I'm not stupid. I'm not making a deal with you. What do you want?" "Would you like to go on a little outing with me?" "A what." "An outing! A gorgeous doll such as yourself must be exhausted having to deal with that annoyingly loud picture show." He was talking about Vox, "I could show you a better time. I can give you aid taking down all those who you wish if you permit me." Before you could answer, a glowing blue circle appears at your feet plunging you down to hell knows where. You land in Vox's lap, his face glitching with rage. "That fucker--Thank the seven rings I was watching around the club you were at." "Vox I-" "That little prick! I'll show him he shouldn't mess around with the Vees! That motherfucker-" "Vox." "-is lucky I wasn't there!" He chuckles, his one eye going crazy at the thought of Alastor hurting you. "Vox!" You yell, finally getting his attention. He seemed to have forgotten you were still in his lap in his fit of rage. He looks down at you, blushing a bit as you were still in the clothes from the fashion show. "Can you let me down please. Your little desk is cramped and I can't get myself off without getting tangled in your cords." Vox, in a panic, backs his chair up, a cord getting caught in one of the wheels and throwing you both back. He catches your head with his hand as to not hurt it. "Fuck. My bad. I was ju-" He cuts himself off noticing the position you're both in and the state of your clothes. He was on top of you and your top got yanked down a bit which meant your tits are now in full view. Not to mention the fact that you somehow got wrapped up in his cables. Him glitching at the sight of you made you smirk, "You like what you see? Or are you too angry at the radio demon talking to me to notice anything?" You cockily said before laughing, pulling your top up to put your tits away, "Now can you help me out of your cables, please?" Vox didn't move. He was frozen. You thought that maybe he short circuited. "Hello? Vox?" You place your hand on his screen, trying to knock him out of his daze, "Vox are you in the-" Before you could say another word he pins your wrist down above your head as he crashes his lips on yours. You melt against his, returning his affection. You taste a faint hint of mint on his tongue as he wraps it around yours, almost battling for a spot in your mouth.

When he pulls away, you were out of breath. You watch his eyes scan your body and take in the sight. "Sorry. I couldn't help myself to you. You just look...so hot right now." He says, taking his hand off of your wrists and trying to back up to free you. Your eyes wander and notice the bulge in his pants. A dirty thought crossing your mind. "If I look so hot, why don't you do something about it." You smirk up at him, gently guiding your knee over his bulge, sending shivers down his spine. "I'm stuck Vox, helpless under you. You really going to throw this golden opportunity away for both of us?" You teased. Vox composes himself and lets out a low chuckle, the antenna on his head letting out some sparks. "You've been driving me insane all day, babe." He speaks in a low tone, his voice turning you on. You feel around above you and grab the nearest cables and tangle your wrists in it, "Show me what you can do, Vox."

He didn't hesitate to undo his bowtie. He took off your top, tossing them to the side before lifting up your skirt. He was taken aback at the thongs you were wearing, they matched his shirt. "Did Velvette put this one on you too?" He asks as he caresses your inner thigh. You purr at his touch, "Mmm...No. Those ones are mine. I got them after your confession~" "You know how to drive me crazy." He slides your thongs off and lightly drags his finger over your slit, making you shiver in excitement. "Now it's my turn to drive you crazy." His blue tongue sticks out of his screen and goes straight into eating you out, relishing your taste. You suppress your moans as to not let anybody else hear. "Be loud, this room is soundproof."

His tongue enters you and swirls around, driving you as crazy as you've been driving him. You squirm in pleasure as the overlord feasts upon you, licking up all the juices. You feel a knot forming in your stomach, your face flushing in delight, "Ah. V-Vox." You moan out, "I-I'm gonna-" He doesn't stop one bit, if anything it seems like he sped up. The knot grew tighter and tighter until you came all over his face. He pulls away, grinning as he looks at your shaking body.

"Let's go somewhere, more comfortable for you." He untangles you with ease, besides your wrists, and teleports the two of you into his already locked bedroom. He plops you down on the bed before taking his pants off, his cock leaking pre-cum. You drool at the sight of his length, "Come here." You say, still a bit out of breath, as you get on your knees for him. "Giving me orders now?" He chuckles as he got closer to your face, his cock resting on your cheek, "Is this what you want, babe?" You look up at him with lust filled eyes before you take him into your mouth, tongue wrapping around his length as you your head up and down. He grabs your hair, making sure it stays out of your face as he looks down at you sucking him, "What a good girl," He purrs, caressing your cheek. You pick up your speed, eager to taste him. Vox grunts in pleasure, thrusting his hips as he pushed himself deeper into you, "Make sure you take every last drop." He grabs your head and starts fucking your face deeper as he gets closer. His cock twitched before letting a load down your throat. He pulls himself out of you, your lips making a pop as he did. You open your mouth to show him what was left, closing it to swallow and opening it back up again to show him that you didn't leave a single drop. He puts his hand under your chin, "Now ass up, sweetheart." You wasted no second getting into position for him. You've been dying to take his cock ever since he confessed to you. Ever since you found out he watched you on his screens. Ever since you laid eyes on him actually. "You're drenched, babe." He grins as he rubs his tip at your entrance, "Beg." You whine and wiggle your hips, trying to see if you can slide him in yourself. He grabbed your hips firmly, slapping your ass, "I said, BEG." he demanded. "Please Vox." "Please what?" He teased his tip, pushing just a little bit in, "What do you want? Speak up." "Please fuck me senseless, Vox. Please." You pleaded in desperation. He grabs your hair, pulling your head up closer so he can whisper in your ear, "Good girl." God the way his voice changes sent shockwaves through out your body.

He enters you slowly, "I'm going to make your entire body glitch the way you made me glitch." He was relentless. Torturing you almost. He picked up his speed and started pounding into you. You moaned in delight, enjoying how rough he was with you. "Faster, please Vox." Your request filled with pleasure, "Vox. Pl-please!" He slaps your ass in response, letting go of your hair and holding your head down on the bed, "Since you asked so nicely." He kept himself at a quick pace, taking in the sight of you drooling on his sheets. He pulls out of you to flip you over, you were about to whine but him suddenly filling you back up again stopped that quick.

Your walls tightened around him, "You're so tight. Are you gonna cum for me like a good girl?" Your brain was turning into mush, rendering you unable to form a real response. The only sounds coming from your mouth were ineligible slurred words and moans. "I'm going to fill you up as deep as I can. I'm making you mine." He growls, pinning your tied wrists above your head. He plants on your chest before licking your exposed chest. He leaves hickies all over your chest, marking this night on your body for only him to see. You feel the familiar knot forming in your stomach again and you're positive he can feel it too. He grunts as he thrusted into you with reckless abandon, pounding you senseless into his mattress.

"V-Vox. Pl-please." He kisses you with as much passion as he could give as you cum around his cock, tightening your walls so much you squeeze him dry as he released his fluids deep into you. The electricity crackled as soon as he came before everything powered down around you. He pulls away from you, resting his head on your neck as he tried to catch his breath. You can see the light emitting from his face flickering different colors.

He pulls out of you, his cum flowing out. He grabs a towel to clean you off as well as he was able to before cleaning himself off. He unties your wrist before plopping down next to you. You nuzzle up next to him. The city lights turn back on and the light seeped into his room. He seems to have kept the lights off in the room. You feel his arm wrap around you. You look up at him, hand resting on his chest.

"Was the teasing worth it or what?" You asked, giggling a little bit. "Hell yeah it did. I'm so glad I sat through the whole show just for you." He sighs contently, pulling you closer to him. "Will you run this entire hell with me, dear?"

"Gladly, Vox."

Valentino groans as he sends over $100 to Velvette. "You of all people should know he wasn't going to be able to pussy out this time." She grins.

[riding-with-the-wild-hunt]

"Even from that region comes now Egalmoth. He had had charge of the engines on the wall; but long since deeming matters to call rather for handstrokes about the streets than shooting upon the battlements he gathered some of the Arch and of the Swallow about him, and cast away his bow. Then did they fare about the city dealing good blows whenever they fell in with bands of the enemy. Thereby he rescued many bands of captives and gathered no few wandering and driven men, and so got to the King's Square with hard fighting; and men were fain to greet him for they had feared him dead." - J.R.R. Tolkien, The Book of Lost Tales Part II, "The Fall of Gondolin"

@gondolinweek » EGALMOTH

[ID: an edit comprised of four posters in shades of off-white and dark brown, with some accents of very pale blue and orange.

1: Thiam M, a senegalese model with dark brown skin and hair. He leans his head on one hand, looking thoughtfully into the distance against a white wall. He is wearing a silver bracelet. White cursive text in the center of the image reads "Egalmoth," with thin sans serif text above it reading "lord of the" in all caps / 2: A rainbow amid clouds, framed on the top and left side by white lines. Sans serif text in the upper left corner reads "But they of the Heavenly Arch being a folk of uncounted wealth were arrayed in a glory of colours, and their arms were set with jewels that flamed in the light now over the sky." The phrase "uncounted wealth" is in cursive / 3: Colorful gas clouds in space, with stars shining through. Same format as Image 2, but with reversed orientation. Text reads "Egalmoth was their chieftain, and wore a blue mantle upon which the stars were broidered in crystal, and his sword was bent," with "chieftain" in cursive / 4: A close-up of a dark-skinned person's face. A cluster of shiny gold stars are stuck beneath their eye. Same text as Image 1, except that the sans serif text is on the bottom and reads "heavenly arch." //End ID]

[kentocalls]

higuruma hiromi | infinity Words: 1.5k, suggestive, smoking Summary: Model Higuruma Hiromi has many eyes pointed at him but his–will always–search for you. Inspired by x, written for @valleyofwater

He’s worn many suits, especially given his early years as a naive, arrogant, bustling attorney.  His attire nowadays is from name brands he mispronounces on the regular. A modeling career he doesn’t take seriously because it wasn’t meant to be serious. You asked, he arrived. You posed him, he moved. Ever eager to be the center of your attention. The one thing Higuruma covets, an itch under his skin. A touch he has yet to allow himself the mercy of.

⊹ You launched his career many years ago, it pulled him into a world that dotes on the very features he’s gotten slack for in the past.  His lightly tanned skin, slender build, deceptive height in photography makes him permissible to use across multiple concepts. He can be the tired and bored suits model or the too-cool and unserious high fashion model. His large nose and smaller brown eyes are suddenly unique, in style, captivating. The new praise means nothing, it’s a touch of your hand, tilting his chin, “Hiromi, stay turned to the light.” That giant lens blocking the stars of your eyes so, fine, he turns to the carefully placed studio light. It’s a darker concept, he notes. His agent, that poor man, would panic seeing all this red and shadow.

Hiromi would ask, what client, what ad, what product, but that’s shallow pleasantry isn’t it?  What he wants to do is thank you, for trusting him with this, for being utterly selfish and brash. Lifting his head, moving his arm, kicking out his feet, treating him as exactly what he seeks to be, your most favorite model. The prop that springs to life whatever fantastical ideas swirl in that mind of yours. Oh how he’d love to sneak in, take an elevator ride through all your neuronal synapses and still, still he’d find it hard to pinpoint what makes you, you. “That expression is perfect.” It’s the face he makes when he thinks about you, when he drowns out the rest of the world and wonders how it would feel to lay his head across your chest… would you let him, if he asked? ⊹

You're comfortable with him, the jaded ex-lawyer turned super model turned mystery.  Higuruma Hiromi is a complicated man and not. Least, not to you, not in your studio, on your carefully crafted set, under your watchful eye.

He always sits in a way that would make the burden Atlas bears seem light. You direct your studio hands, this is the last shot, they won’t be needed once the tub is placed and filled to your liking. The drops of red you’ll add on your own, once you’ve settled him in and explained the concept. What is it?  What had you said to him? A commentary on justice?  What a brazen lie. There is no external client, this is for you. Your portfolio, your need to touch his skin and have his presence wrap around your studio as it often clouds your mind.  You don’t hate that he’s famous, you hate that he doesn’t care.  Hiromi has asked for no compensation other than dinner and cigarettes. You know better than to think of him as cheap anything.  His mind doesn't shallow, hollow, meaningless contact. His brain doesn’t allow him to run on top of the surface.  No, Hiromi sinks his teeth in and deep, Hiromi bleeds dry the object of his fascination. Sometimes himself too in the process. And you know better, better than to want him…and yet…

⊹

“That’s a nice sweater.” He comments dryly, stepping into the tub, water rushing to accommodate his long limbs. “Won’t it shrink if it gets wet?” That tone, those eyes.   You’d wave it off if there were a real set, a real campaign, a real…anything other than excuse to get close to him.  Laughable, the concept ‘a commentary of justice’ and you’re here…abusing your power aren’t you?  No, no.  This is a game you two have played over and over for years on end now. Off your top goes and he hisses, “I think you should be on the other side of that lens.”

“I wonder who taught you all that charm?”  As you step in, one of his hands comes to steady your calf, you add the other leg, standing tall, looking down at him and oh, he gives your muscles a squeeze. 

“Is it working?” He can’t tell, you’re such a good poker face with that camera. Those eyes slightly glossed over, assessing every centimeter of him, tugging him up by his tie. “Could you comb your hair back a bit more, with the water–careful, none on your face, remember?” Funny how his limbs move at the mere suggestion of your words and halt at your discretion too.  Your name spills from his lips, “...like this?” “Perfect, you’re always…” the camera shields your emotions, “so perfect for me, Hiromi.” ⊹

It’s a game that could go on for hours, days, weeks, years. Hiromi will sit when you ask him to, speak when you address him, if only he’d build up the nerve to ask you to keep him.  Let him throw away this unearned career, forget about the fashion weeks and runways and first class anything. His hands belong here, on you, keeping you steady. His body belongs here, under your will, move him as you need. And you do, heavens above could not promise him the satisfaction that comes from your twisting and pulling and positioning of him. 

And if you were to read into this, all his interviews and all his behind the scene clips, of how he flinches and pulls back from hands that approach his face… how he places boundaries around how and who and when he can be touched on set… none of that crosses his mind when its you, if you were to read into that… “What would you like to eat tonight, Hiromi?” He’s half submerged, the red and gavel pooling into a tye-dye design.  Eyes snap to your camera, then he tilts up, the water drips down and free.  There’s a few that bead across his eyelashes, you reach out to brush them away.  “Anywhere you’d want to take me.” You hum. You stand again, to hang your camera up and out of liquid danger, and sit at the foot of the tub. He leans back to the opposite side. “I’m not much of a cook myself, but I do…have this as promised.” It’s magic, whenever you pull the dry cigarettes and lighter from.  It’s mystifying, how perfect that brown and white roll of toxins perches at your lips. How you light and take a drag, the longest seconds of Hiromi’s life and he’d still want this moment on loop. Over and over. The way the embers sparkle in your eyes, the way your lips part slightly, that crawl of yours that forces water to him, over and out the edges of the tub. So close. He’s had you close like this before, a different set, a different photoshoot but now there’s no camera to hide either of yourselves with. His hands find your waist, his mouth parts on it’s own as you slip the cigarette between his lips, his eyes never, ever leave yours, and he refuses to let your warmth part from his.  He can keep you warm, he’s good enough for that, surely. “I’d take anything.” Famished, he is.  For you, one look, one touch, one breathe…would it satiate him?  The way your eyebrow quirks up, the way your hand finds chin again, always moving his face into the light, it’s an excuse, really.   There’s only one way to soothe the burn under your fingertips. “You’d take anything, but what would you give me, Hiromi?” Anything doubled, tripled.  He’s about to speak when you lean all the way in, chest to chest, his brain short circuits, “Would you give me a kiss?” “Take twenty, thirty, an infinity–” and you know him, you’ve always known him to talk himself out of any situation so you shut him up. He’s given permission, infinity was it?  A number you like, a number you can work with. The water sloshes in a rage known only to the dark storm seas, not fit for this studio, not fit for all this expensive equipment you have, within an arms reach or so.

But he kisses you as if starved, no restraint, nothing chaste. Tongue over tongue, moans so pretty for you, his hands keeping you pressed flush, not even a molecule of water given entry between you two. You have to bite at his bottom lip to pull away, to catch your breath, look at him.

The way the water drips down, hair askew, the way red drips from his lips and yours. The way his eyes have lidded heavy, the feel of his chest…rising and falling against your own.  “We’ve got…a long way to infinity, don’t we?”

He nods.  No other road he’d want to pursue, no other path worth entertaining.  Keep him, keep him, won’t you?

[problematic-faves-appreciation]

The definition of a romance novel: a story centered around the non-platonic relationship between two (or many) characters — with a guaranteed happy or hopeful ending for the main couple.

Those are the chief requirements needed for a story to be considered a romance!

Romances are not equivalent to...

• "endorsement".

• a "good guy" hero. No. In a romance, the term "hero" simply refers to the male love interest/main male protagonist of that story.

• "boyfriend material".

• female characters who "should be" role models for the readers, especially young women.

• an ideal (healthy) relationship.

• "relationship goals IRL!"

• didactic.

• an instruction manual.

• a substitute for sex education.

• wholesomeness all around.

• cozy fiction.

• dark-themes-free.

• "being especially dangerous to women" because this genre glamorizes subject matter that isn't okay nor legal IRL. Like, people play video games which glamorize crime and violence, but they don't get nowhere near the same amount of shit that romance novel and fanfiction readers do for doing the SAME EXACT THING as them: enjoying the fictional depiction of whatever, not its real-life counterpart.

As such, dark romance is still a romance, no matter how much certain people clutch their pearls about the messed up couples, and dark themes and tropes (cruel heroes, stalking, kidnapping, captivity, abuse, non-consent, trauma bonding) this genre has to offer. If a dark romance novel contains the central love story and happily ever after elements mentioned above, then sorry not sorry. That's a romance.