#Elite models agency

[shannendoherty-fans]

1995 - Allure magazine (unknown issue).

A New Zip Code

It's hard to think of anyone more in need of an image overhaul than Shannen Doherty. That's why we gave her one.

By Christian Wright. Photography by Waune Maser.

Shannen Doherty has an image problem.

From the rubber checks to the bar brawls to the disposable marriage, her behavior played right into several inches of gossip columns. while fans of Beverly Hills, 90210, tuned in for an hour of sunny absurdity, Doherty wasn't able to maintain that ironic distance. She swallowed her character – Brenda the Bitch – whole. It's no wonder she picked up the silly, spolied starlet reputation. Still, "I don't understand it at all," Doherty says. "Recently different people have come into my life and said, 'You're this really nice person with a really bad image. Let's put out who you really are.'" And who might that be? "I'm just a nice, Southern Baptist, Republican girl".

Well, then, in the name of Newt Gingrich, a makeover! Gone is the long raven hair, it's been chipped into a real bowl cut from the 1950s (when the nation last was good and true). The eyerows are no longer so pencil-thin and arched liked skid marks left by a crazed Joan Crawford tailspin. They're a bit fuller at present. Though, she says, "this is as thick as they're ever going to get". As a younger girl (she's now only 23), Doherty suffered from bushy monobrow. Today, tweezzers are her favourite thing. The put-upon smirk: so familar back in the old Zip code, has been replaced by a more glamorous grimace. Smudged eyeliner, luch black eyelashes,and a rich, sligthly creamy lipstick lend an air of Holywood's golden age.

In fact, in this light, Doherty – with pronounced collarbone, deep cleavage, and detached stare – recalls Ava Gardner in the heady late 40s or Elizabeth Taylor when she was young, and tidy-white.

Doherty likes dressing up in guises. Of course, she should,it's her job. "That's part of acting," she says. "It gives you the opportunity to be ten other people without being diagnosed with schizophrenia." (Some might reserve judgment.) in everyday life, though, Doherty is considerably less stylized. At homr in Los Angeles, where she lives with her boyfriend, director Rob Weiss (so much for Newt's "normal" American values) she tends to wear jeans, T-Shirts, and no makeup. "I hate makeup in general," she says. "After you get done doing a series for four years you tend to go makeup-free." When she's in New York, it's a different story. "Calvin Klein, Donna Karan,and Chanel; mascara,eyeliner and lipstick. A chic-er side of me comes out. I don't know why!"

Meanwhile, the plump, girlish version of Doherty is preserved, a latter-day Marcia Brady on an endless syndication loop. How her looks have changed. "Oh, my God," she says. "So much. I never really realized that I used to be chubby. I never dieted or anything. As I grew up, the baby fat just started falling off me."

Maybe the sordid past will be just as easy to shed.

NOTE: The page article, as you can see, is very small. english is not my first language either. So maybe there's typos and mistakes and some things don't make sense. If so, please let me know and I will correct it. hopefully one day I can get a copy myself and can scan it (and know the actual issue/date!)

[nhlovesadri3]

Adriana Lima in her new 2024 Elite Milan agency polaroids.

[nicoleshelleymodels1]

How Our Talent Management Agency Supports Your Career

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[justdavina]

Andreja Pejic

She made history when she became the first transgender woman to be signed to elite modelling agency Ford models.

[catslilypad]

We're Cats on a Lilypad Studios. A solo run indie studio based in regional Australia and we make visual novels!

We aim to bring you rich and vibrant worlds, characters and narratives with a focus on fantasy, romance, and adventure.

(and cats)

See what we're working on!

GAMES

The Inn Between

Steam || Itch.io

Lead Artist: XianJin Publisher - Two and a Half Studios

A modern fantasy BL visual novel following Myka Riley, a young barista with a mystery on his hands.

He has no memory of his past, a sketch book full of creatures only he can see and a nightmare he can't shake.

A phone call from a stranger changes the course of his life as he's directed to a mystical inn on the outskirts of town.

A story of gods, demons and a world beyond anything Myka could have imagined as he seeks his past.

🏮Three love interests 🏮Incredible soundtrack + art 🏮Catboy, goatman, roommate! 🏮Free NSFW patch

Our full common route is now available in beta on our Patreon!

Heart Agency

Steam || Itch.io

Lead Artist: 6nii9

A model, an actor and an idol get assigned to a reluctant composer and brother of the agency head.

There's no punchline, there IS Heart Agency however, our BL idol visual novel in development.

A modern day BL visual novel about a composer from a famous family who isn't so keen on fame himself.

Not only are his parents world renown performers, they also own their own talent agency, which Adrian Heart is now compelled to work at.

Becoming the reluctant manager to one of three elite talents Adrian has his work cut out for him. All while maintaining his anonymity.

🎬 Three Love Interests 🎬 Original Soundtrack 🎬 Gorgeous art 🎬 All your favourite Idol themes

Heart Agency is getting a completely revamped demo via our Patreon!

Moonflower

Steam || Itch.io

Lead Artist: Tomomochi

The Moonflower...is dying...

Play as Nika Skylar, a royal alchemist with an aversion to nobility as he uncovers a century long plot, investigates a murder AND rescues a sacred and rare fae flower.

When a once a century festival is attacked, High Alchemist Nika Skylar is forced to take matters into his own hands. Accompanied by a mysterious stranger who ignites his very soul, he has one night to save not only the kingdom but the rarest and most powerful entity in the world.

The fabled Moonflower.

🌸 56 thousand words with multiple endings 🌸 Gorgeous CG 🌸 Bonus Chibi 🌸 Alchemy Minigame 🌸 Catboy

Moonflower

Steam || Itch.io

Lead Artist: Tomomochi Key Art: Fuyuure

One year after the disastrous Moonfaire all seems well in Ashmire.

But what of our fated fae?

While memories of the event are hazy to all others Captain Thane has remained vigilant, waiting for the promised return of their felinis alchemist.

With the arrival of a voiceless fox perhaps his wait is at an end?

🌘 Continue the love story of Skylar and Ender 🌘 New locations 🌘 New characters 🌘 Gorgeous art and breathtaking backgrounds

🍑Additional Patreon exclusive NSFW ending

ARTBOOKS and BUNDLES

The Art Collection Volume 1

Every month our patrons vote to decide our monthly illustrations themes and characters Illustrated by Mizu Yukiiro.

These votes include theme, SFW character and NSFW character.

A collection of select past patreon illustration and promotional artworks can be purchased in the Artbook Volume 1 on itch.io.

The Art and Lore of Moonflower

Steam || Itch.io

Delver into deeper into the world of Moonflower with the art and lore of Moonflower!

This book covers all the details of the game, from character concepts, to extended lore and even a comprehensive endings guide.

BL LOVERS BUNDLE

Steam

Three games, two developers!

Immerse yourself in three captivating stories: The Divine Speaker, an 18+ fantasy visual novel; Moonflower, a mystery fantasy visual novel; and start;again, a hilarious (yet somewhat heartbreaking) mystery visual novel.

And the best part? You can get all three games at a discounted price! Already own one or two of the games? No problem! Pay only for the games you don't have yet and still receive the bundle discount. Don't miss out on this fantastic deal!

If you'd like to follow along in real time and see other things from us as well our discord and twitter are the best places to find the studio, chat, and also see what other devs are working on as we collaborate or share.

You can find all of our links and socials on our Linktree

Find Us:

Twitter

Tumblr

Discord

TikTok

Instagram

BlueSky

Support us on our Patreon for multigame updates, exclusive illustration and more:

Patreon

Buy our merch, such a Keychains, prints and Dakimakura on Ko-Fi:

Ko-f

As well as making games, I also sometimes get to play them!

Catch me on Youtube playing games and sometimes singing!

Exclusive dev streams sometime? (づ￣ 3￣)づ

Youtube Twitch Ko-Fi Twitter Tumblr Discord

[city-of-ladies]

"Mycenaean women put their own spindles to splendid use, producing luscious cloaks and long, richly patterned or striped skirts. Far from resigning themselves to the weaving rooms, they travelled in chariots, performed songs or poetry to the accompaniment of lyres, and carried wheatsheaves for public ceremonies and rituals, as vibrantly coloured frescoes from the palace at Mycenae reveal. In one of the most enigmatic paintings, one woman holds a sword, another a spear, while two tiny men, one painted red and the other black, float mysteriously between them, like toy models or thought bubbles. Through their contact with the divine, perhaps, the women pictured gain agency over the men’s fate. Hera, Zeus, Poseidon and a female birth and death goddess known as Potnia were among the deities the Mycenaeans are known to have worshipped. While Mycenaean women clearly played an important role in religion, their political position within the palaces was weaker than that of their Minoan counterparts, and secondary to the men’s. Each Mycenaean palace complex was presided over by a male ‘wa-na-ka’ or wanax.

Surviving clay writing tablets provide just as fascinating an insight into the lives of women in the real palaces of the Mycenaean era. The fullest collection of tablets comes from a pair of rooms in the palace complex of Pylos, but Knossos, the former Minoan capital, was also a key repository. A total of 4,476 tablets have been preserved across the two sites. Among these there are references to more than 2,000 different women. Unlike Linear A, the Minoans’ writing system, the Mycenaeans’ similarly syllabic Linear B has been successfully deciphered. Working (as opposed to non-working elite) women were denoted by signs resembling an abstract impression of the female form. ‘Woman’ was conveyed by two dots for breasts, legs joined to suggest a long skirt of the kind Mycenaean women wore, and a curved line where her head would be, suggestive of long or dressed hair (in the sign for a man, by contrast, there is a straight line for the head).

The women referred to in the tablets were employed in a wide range of jobs, many of them familiar from the Homeric epics. In the Odyssey, women grind wheat and barley, ‘the marrow of men’, at mills. There were ‘flour-grinders’ at the palace in Pylos. In both epics, women weave, whether royal or servile. Andromache works in the Trojan palace with a loom and distaff while ordering her servant women about their work. Helen embroiders a purple cloth with scenes from the Trojan War as if she were telling the story of the poem herself. And as we have seen, Penelope weaves and unweaves a funeral shroud for her father-in-law, Laertes. The women who wove at Pylos and Knossos were no less versatile in their handiwork. They managed something like a textile industry, producing goods for export as well as the palace community, and worked in groups according to specialism. There were wool-spinners and carders, linen- and leather-workers, finishers and headband-makers for horses. These women usually worked separately from men, but at Pylos there is evidence that at least two women, Wordieia and Amphehia, formed part of a mixed leather-making group. 

Working groups were the modus operandi at the Mycenaean palaces. Women were usually accompanied by boys and girls, presumably their own children, as they went about their tasks. Many were divided also according to their geographical region. Pylos was split into sixteen districts over two provinces, Nearer and Further, separated by Mount Aigaleo. The palace-workers came from more than 200 named places, some of which may have been local streets, while others, including Lemnos, Miletus and Knidos, lay further afield. It is possible that, like the Sidonian (Phoenician) women carried to Troy by Paris in the Iliad to weave fine robes for the court, some of the women working in the Mycenaean palaces had been enslaved.

Although the women were engaged in hard, practical labour, their work was recognised as highly skilled, and the Mycenaeans took some pride in it. Men were sometimes described on tablets as being the offspring of women of particular crafts, for example, ‘sons of flax-workers’. Female workers were allocated the same amount of food in the regular distributions as their male counterparts, and twice as much as their children, whereas in Babylonia, men typically received three times the female ration.

A mysterious senior class of priestess at Pylos known as ‘keybearers’ (did they open and close shrines within the palace complex?) even owned land. A landowning keybearer named ka-pa-ti-ja (‘Karpathia’) was wealthy enough to donate almost 200 litres of grain to the palace, probably for a religious festival. Given the historical prominence of women at the court of Pylos, it is fitting that a mythical Pylian king should intervene in the dispute over Briseis in the Iliad. Old Nestor urges Agamemnon to return the woman to Achilles and to end their feud."

The Missing Thread: A Women's History of the Ancient World, Daisy Dunn

[kelin-is-writing]

kelin may i hear more about rockstar touya \(★ω★)/

I was planning to post other headcanons before going for these, BUT I’ve got some for Rockstar!Touya that are pestering my mind these days and your asks come in the right moment, so bear with me please 🤧

࣪𖤐… ROCKSTAR!TOUYA

The first time Touya knew that he wanted to become a rockstar was in middle school, right at the age of thirteen, his influent CEO of a father was trying to mold him into a carbon copy of himself to rival Yagi Toshinori’s Enterprise. While taking a break from studies, he saw his sister watch on TV a rock concert of “Loudness” and to say Akira Takasaki is his role model is the least. That’s a true legend to him.

After “Loudness” and Akira Takasaki, he discovered “Metallica” and Kirk Hammett which made him go like “HOW??? HAVE??? I??? MISSED??? ALL??? THIS???”, scolding himself for taking so long to fall in love with the electric guitar and its sound. The next week he’s blasting full volume “The Final Countdown” by Europe inside the Todoroki Mansion like the good old stamp rock fanatic he is, getting himself scolded and grounded by Enji who is a fan of traditional Japanese music so yeah…

At one of the Todoroki family gatherings during the weekend, he was scrolling down his phone looking first of all where to take guitar lessons and second for a guitar to buy, but he knew his father would never agree to get him one. That’s when his grandfather, peeking at his grandson’s phone, butted in and asked Touya if he’s interested in music. He wasn’t sure if it was a good thing to answer that question, since he’s the father of his father, but he did and hell has it been the best thing he did!

On his fourteenth birthday, Enji’s father bought Touya his very first electric guitar, a good old Fender Stratocaster CUSTOM MADE for him. It’s snow white like his hair and has a his name engraved on the bottom left side of the guitar, while on the other side there were engraved tiger’s fangs, all in turquoise… The color of his eyes. And this has been by far Touya’s best birthday ever.

After finishing Middle School he choose to attend an Art School, taking the music classes as main classes of course; he may or not have done it to piss off and raise Enji’s blood pressure from how mad he got for choosing something different from Finances and Management. Oh his father was livid and Touya was so proud of himself for that.

He has formed a rock band, of which he’s the guitarist and vocalist, with Tenko Shimura (Bassist&Vocalist) and Shuichi Iguchi (Drummer) called “The Villains”… Are we even surprised about this name? Really? Because I am not. Tenko suggested, Iguchi supported strongly and Touya just went with it because complaining and thinking about another name was “Too much effort”. He likes it a lot but will never admit it.

At the age of nineteen, Touya owns a Fender Stratocaster (Custom Made), an Elite Stratocaster, an ST-83-80 Japan (1983) black, Lone Star Strat, IC350 black, IC50 black, ICHI00 white, Gibson SG Standard mahogany and a Jackson Pro Series DK Modern HT6 MS. He also owns four acoustic guitars for songwriting, like a Martin GPC-X1E, Martin 000-28 Modern Deluxe, Taylor GS Mini-e Rosewood SN LTD and a Taylor AD22e. Did he pay all them with Enji’s credit card? Hell yeah. Did he do it out of spite? Absolutely. Did he care about his father’s blood pressure rising even more? Not even remotely.

His favorite groups are Loudness, Metallica, Led Zeppelin, AC/DC, Europe, Scorpions, Slipknot, Three Days Grace, Green Day, Skillet, Linkin Park, The Rasmus, L’Arc-En-Ciel, UVERworld, Nirvana, Guns N’ Roses and Evanescence to list some, because there are many more he adores honestly. He isn’t a picky ear as long as the song gives him chills and inspires him, being someone who’s driven by emotions that’s what makes him likes something he hears.

Atsuhiro is their homeroom teacher, at the Art University they attend, who introduces them to Giran, a friend of his, who has an agency for new talents and after they sent him six of their songs wants to launch their very first album by August to make them debut at the “Rock In Japan Fes.”

Touya, being the emotional driven type of musician, is the one put to write the lyrics for the band’s songs and most of the times are hits, especially because his and Tenko’s voice brings to life the emotions of the lyrics in a way that it reaches the listeners right into the heart and soul.

You will never catch Touya’s fingers empty, there’s always rings decorating them and some rings are even custom made by his cousin Geten, who owns a Jewelry shop that he promotes a lot on his social media. One of his most precious rings is the one that he got made for him, with his birthstone carved in it, when he turned eighteen.

He has three earrings on his right ear: an helix, mid helix, conch and low helix. Four on his left one: two helix, a low helix and one on the lobe, plus three nostril piercings on the right side of his nose.

After “The Villains” debuts and proving his father that he could succeed through music without his help nor his name, Touya owns now a black card that he lets Fuyumi and Shoto use to their heart content.

Last, but not least, be ready to be the muse of Touya’s songs the instant he falls head over heels for you. The moment it happens everything, and I mean everything, to him becomes about you driving Tenko and Iguchi to pure exasperation.

[monicalovesyou]

Kate Moss and Naomi Campbell at the Elite Model Agency party for the Look of the Year Contest at the Hilton Hotel, London, September 1993.

[kaylinelizabeth4004]

Hii I loved your Alec fan fic sm any more Alec x f reader smut coming ?😭

Come As You Are

A/N: of course more Alec is coming, I just need time love. This one is for my midsize girlies ❤️

Summary: The Reader is feeling insecure about herself and Alec wants to help

Tags: 18+ minors dni, insecurity and mentions of body dysmorphia and self hatred, praise kink, body worship, consensual possessive language, and some fluff :)

The woman in front of her was thin and tall, with a beautiful head of curls and dark skin. Her eyes were shrewd as they took in DS Y/N Warner, standing in her frumpy suit with a notepad at the ready. Yet she certainly didn't look poorly on DI Alec Hardy, not that he would have noticed her little flirts. She angled her hips one way, answered his questions primarily, and smiled widely at his words, always looking right at him. If Y/N wasn't careful and reminding herself that she was on the clock, she had half a mind to kiss Alec right there and claim him. But she didn't.

DI Alec Hardy went to the car, and Y/N lingered for just a moment to clarify one of the points that got fuzzy.

"Right, and you work for Joan Topper Model Agency? Not to be confused with Topper Jane's Agency?" Y/N asked, checking the reference she had from the lady who'd referred them to this woman.

The woman nodded, her lips close to a sneer, "it's a very elite agency, Joan Topper."

"I'm sure."

The woman cocked her head to the side, "are you?"

DS Warner swallowed hard. She did not like not liking other women, it made her feel like a bad feminist. She should overthrow the ideas of women hurting other women and focus on the more particular idea that men made it up to make women dislike one another. And while that was very likely, it wasn't impossible for two things to exist at once. Men try to make women hate each other, and some women are just bitches. Not because they're women but because they're people.

And this woman, who couldn't possibly be over 21, with her gorgeous figure and curly hair, just happened to be one of those special humans. And it irked Y/N.

"You can't be over a size 4," the woman pressed. It was unclear if she meant you couldn't be over a size 4 in the agency, or in life. Her eyes lingered at Hardy's retreating form. "Men don't like it much."

DS Warner smiled tightly and nodded, walking back to the car and quickly getting in so she wouldn't have to see that woman again. Alec didn't notice the change in Y/N's mood, he wasn't always the best at that.

Instead of going to the station, they went back to Y/N's house. Alec hadn't actually moved in, but that was more of a title really. He stayed there nearly every night, had a section of the closet, and referred to it as home. They both knew that once they wrapped up this case, they would set aside a weekend and officially move in, but when cases got busy neither felt they could take even a day off. Work got in the way like that.

"Right, I'm going to pop in the shower then I'll be down to help," Y/N said, toeing off her shoes at the door.

"M'kay," Hardy answered with a wave of his hand, files in his arms.

She went up to the loo, started the shower and made quick work of her uniform. Her image in the mirror made her stop.

Normally, people described the moment before a shower as some of the most attractive. Moments when all of a sudden insecurities melt away and you could spend ages doing dance battles with yourself. This was not one of those days for Y/N. Maybe it was the insecurities she already had buried beneath the surface, maybe it was the late hour, maybe it was the woman who had subtly insulted her appearance, but whatever the cause she found she hated what she saw.

Y/N always felt a little trapped when she expressed her insecurities to friends. She couldn't say she was thin, because she wasn't. But she couldn't say she was fat, because she wasn't. She was an awkward middle ground that certainly didn't feel sexy. Her thighs touched when she stood, covered in little stretch marks and led to a small bush she tried to trim but it always looked wrong. Along her boobs there were stretch marks like purple tiger stripes, and she had small red bumps she couldn't explain. Of course in between the two lied the worst of the worst, a belly just bloated enough to look pregnant when she very much wasn't. Nope, Y/N was not a fan of this body.

Her cheeks flushed with emotion and the heat of the shower, and she tried to ignore it as she got in and scrubbed off the day. Her hair was clean so she left it up and tried to calm herself when she noticed her efforts were too harsh. God damn it, this was not what she had intended.

Not long after she joined Hardy at the kitchen table, sipping her hot chocolate he'd made, and pouring over the case files. Her mind began to wander but she was intent on stopping it.

"You alright?" Alec's thick Scottish accent broke her from the bank's reports, and it was among the first words he'd spoken all evening.

"Y-yeah," she said, not quite knowing what he was referring to. "Why?"

"You don't seem right."

Y/N didn't know how to respond, so she shrugged her shoulders, "I'm ... fine?"

He narrowed his eyes. Alec Hardy felt like he was in a bit of a limbo at the moment. His instinct was telling him that something was bothering Y/N, she seemed sad and distant. However, Alec was not known for having the best instinct with people and their feelings. He couldn't tell if he should leave it or press on. But it was DI Alec Hardy and he wasn't a fan of lying. "After that last interview you've gone funky."

If Y/N wasn't so uncomfortable trying to think of how to not expose this lame part of herself to Alec, she'd have focused on him using the word funky. "I didn't like her much."

"Did she say something?"

"More or less."

"Warner stop evading the question and tell me what's wrong." His voice was intense as he spoke, chocolate eyes imploring.

"I don’t like my body, I'm ugly," she said quickly, as though it would take away everything else.

Alec blinked, "wot?"

"I'm ugly and fat, Alec."

DI Alec Hardy did not know a lot of things. He was shit at expressing emotions and understanding others, he did not understand social media, thought scotch eggs were gross, had a temper, and was shit at accepting help. But he knew one thing. His Y/N was not ugly.

"No you're not." She laughed bitterly and looked away. He said it louder, his tone more stern. "Y/N you are not ugly and you're not fat."

Y/N's throat was tight as she said, "thanks Alec." She didn't mean it, they both knew she didn't mean it.

"Y/N-"

"It's fine, can just get on with it?" She snapped, her voice a hair away from a yell. Alec saw her retreat further into herself. "Sorry."

He sighed, closing his eyes to try and make his thinking clearer. Alec was proper rubbish at dealing with any of this. But then he had any idea, an idea she probably didn't expect. The detective stood up and walked towards the stairs.

His ever inquisitive Y/N craned her neck to watch as he went up the steps. He was impressed she managed to last a full minute without following after him, in which time he removed his jacket and shoes, before she appeared in the bedroom door frame with a questioning look on her face.

"C'mhere."

She did, though her steps were slow as she watched him with a shrewd eye. He took her hands in his, running his thumb over her knuckles. Alec's hands were always calloused and he never knew why, as he didn't do much physical labor. She liked how they felt.

Alec brought her hands to his mouth and pressed a kiss on each of them, "I love your hands."

He could see the little flush on her cheeks start up, but she didn't say anything else. Alec went to the edge of the bed, bringing her to sit between his legs, his chest up against her back. His hands ran up her arms, "I love that when I do that you get goose flesh."

"Alec what're you doing?"

"You've got lovely arms, lovely shoulders." He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the skin of both. Then Alec pointed a finger in front of them, towards the mirror on the back of the bathroom door. They painted a lovely picture, a woman held by her man as he lavished soft touches on her. He planned to make the picture prettier. Though he wasn't always confident in sex, he was confident that he loved Y/N and that her self image was wrong. And that confidence overrode all other feelings of inadequacy.

"Alec..." she didn't know what to say. She had a feeling she knew what he was up to and she didn't know if she could handle it. He was being awfully sweet. And the scratch of his beard made her sigh. His fingers came to the straps of her flimsy, pajama tank top, pulling them until they snapped back on her skin.

In the mirror, Alec glanced up and made eye contact with her. His face was kind, tired but not of her. His hair was dark and mused, his eyes so chocolate it hurt to look at. And his freckles, the most wonderful part of the man was the freckles that ran along his face as though he never left the sun as a child. She nodded slightly, knowing that he was asking for permission.

The straps fell down, and Alec pushed the top down until her breasts fell from them, heavy and heaving against her chest. Almost instantly she felt a growing hardness against her bum, and she flushed incredulously. His hands came round and held her breasts, letting them overflow in his touch.

Throughout their entire relationship, Alec was not one who would just speak. He was the silent brooding type. The kind of guy who grunted when he asked if he fancied a pint - the answer was always no, he didn't drink. But Alec knew Y/N loved his voice, she called it sexy and he'd caught her getting off to a voicemail of his once. Whenever he got loud in the office, had to yell at someone, he noticed the way her thighs would clench and her cheeks flush. So while he was most certainly clunky at it, he tried his best to speak through his thoughts for her, hoping it could help her get to him.

"They’re one of my favorite bits of you," he murmured, his voice suddenly throaty as though he was struggling to speak with the sight of your breasts out and about.

He pressed them together, showing the deep line of her cleavage. "Don't get that on just anyone, now do ya?"

Y/N wanted to believe him, to look in the mirror and see a creature that was as attractive and he believed, but she just couldn't. Her words were soft but they were there as she said, "I have stretch marks and bumps."

Alec's brow furrowed and he held her chest tighter before letting them fall back. He was fully hard now and didn't shy away from letting her feel the affect she had on him.

"No one can expect your skin to remain the same your whole life. Doesn’t make it ugly." He said, kiss the junction between her neck and shoulder. She leaned her head back into him, letting herself feeling those beautifully calloused hands as they teased at her nipples, those soft lips kissing her skin.

He slowly dragged the tank top down until it met the waistband of her shorts. She did not look down to see the image in the mirror, this was not the body part she wanted to see. His hands were featherlight as they travelled down her abdomen, running his fingers along the rolls of her skin. The thought alone made her want to cry. Alec let out a breath, "you're so fucking soft."

That was not quite what she wanted to hear, soft wasn’t a word she felt was a good thing. Though that hadn't been his intention, Alec thought soft was one of the best things a body could be. He tried again, bringing his hands to her hips, "I love your belly. It's cute."

"It's not sexy."

"Fuck yeah it is," he argued. Alec pulled away from her and went to kneel in front of the bed. He spread her legs and went on his knees, putting his face right at her chest, which he noticed right away. Hardy brought his hand to her face and made her look at him, and he blew out a breath. She was a vision, leaned back, heavy breasts on full display and legs spread like a goddess.

He pressed a kiss in between her breasts, letting his tongue nip out to taste her skin. She giggled and said, "Alec!"

He brought his mouth down to her stomach, kissing each roll and holding her tightly. His beard itched and cause a pink rash to form, but she didn't have the urge to fight it. All along her abdomen, DI Alec Hardy peppered hot, wet kisses with nips of teeth. Then he growled softly, turning to see the mirror and force her to see what he saw. A stomach with small little love bites. "I decide what I find sexy. And that's sexy."

She hadn't even realized that she had started crying until it dripped down her face. It wasn't a sad tear, not really. It was more an overwhelming realization that Alec wasn't messing about, he wasn't saying this because he loved her. As his hands ran up her legs, prickly from unshaven hairs, he kissed and growled against her skin with the kindest love she'd felt. And she gladly let him remove her panties and shorts until she was bare, spread for him.

"I love your breasts and I love your belly, but these are some of my favorites," Alec said and he moved her thighs to sit on his shoulders. He bit at her thighs, lowering his kiss with each moment. Then he was there at the apex of her legs, with her slightly hairy, fully glistening cunt. His hot breath hit her as he murmured, "hey darling."

She shuddered, her body involuntarily moving to the sound of his voice. She had to stop the yelp that tried to escape when he extended his tongue and licked her bottom to top.

“I love that you’re so responsive down here,” Alec said between peppered kisses, letting his teeth ever so softly graze across her clit before sliding his tongue into her opening. Her muscles clenched, thighs beginning to shake as he lavished her. “I love the taste of you.”

He moved up, letting his beard scratch along her inner thighs in the way he knew she liked. Alec brought a careful finger to her opening, sliding it in with ease. She started to grind against it, hips bucking to meet his tongue as he began proper work on her clit. His fingers were long as they pumped in and out, curling i side her in the way that made her gasp. He laughed against her, he fucking laughed. A deep chuckle that radiated through her body, sending her arousal through the roof until her thighs were clamped round his head.

“Such a good girl for me,” he whispered against her. But she heard it, and practically shoved him into her. Then Alec said, “you look so beautiful, you’re doing so good love. I’m so proud of my girl.”

Y/N cried out as she came, her body convulsing with each wave. It was positively impossible to describe, a kind of hazy pleasure that takes you from this world until you’re left panting on a bed, wondering how your antisocial detective boyfriend learned to do all of that. Her legs spasmed, squeezing against him in the way he adored.

Alec eased her through it, his kisses soft and messy. Her juices covered his face, were in his beard, but he seemed to proudly display her. Her thighs were going to be red from beard rash and covered in little love bites, some more possessive than others and she relished them all.

“Such a beautiful darling,” Alec said, rising slowly as he moved up her body. “I love your body, it’s bloody sexy is what it is. But my favorite part, yes even more than your breasts, is your face.”

Then he leaned in and kissed her, he kissed her with everything he had. It was rhat desperate, dizzying sort of kiss where words went unspoken but understood. She sighed, crying but now it wasn’t a hatred. Just like she realized earlier, and now it seemed to sink, Alec loved her regardless. He didn’t just put up with insecurities, he fought to fight them with her and show her what he saw. She might not see it yet, but to know that someone like him had eyes like that was comforting.

He tasted of her, of her musk and sweat and sex, and she found it embarrassingly arousing to know it was her wetness that did this to him.

Alec came up to the bed quickly, getting in the same position from earlier. Him behind her with her body in between his legs. Alex brought her to lean on him so her neck was ready for biting, “I fucking love your neck.”

“Bloody vampire!” She laughed.

Alec chuckled, bring his hands down her sides to grip her thighs. “That so?” With a strong yet gentle touch, he spread her thighs wide enough to rest on his, locking her in place.

“Alec I need you…”

“Oh what a pretty picture you make,” Alec whispered along her skin as he removed his cock from his trousers, going under her arse to tease at her opening. “Oh look at you, you’re gorgeous. My beautiful angel grinding against my cock, spread for the world to see. Perhaps another day. Shall I show you just how lovely you are, darling?”

Fuck. For someone who’d not done much dirty talk, he was damn good at it. She whined for him to take her, and he happily obliged, sinking into her with a slow thrust.

He let out a hiss at the feeling of her taut muscles clenching around him, holding him in place as though she couldn’t hear to lose him. She gasped the fullness, relishing in it and grinding just enough to cause Alec to make a guttural sound.

“You keep goin like that Angel and I won’t last much longer.”

“I don’t want you to,” she said, moving her hips again.

That movement broke Alec. He kept one hand tight on her hip, the other snaking down her body to start desperate ministrations on her clit. He thrust into her with a fury, bucking his hips to get as deep as he can. Y/N groaned, shocked at how quickly he was bringing her to climax.

“Come in me,” she said between breathy sighs. “Make me yours.”

Something in that sent the man wild. He stood, quickly helping prop Y/N up doggy style on the bed, and began to truly fuck her the way they both intended. They were so close to climax, his strokes uneven and wild, her clit buzzing with life.

“Say it again, angel. Tell me to make you mine.”

“I’m yours,” she groaned. “Come in me, I need you. I’m yours, make me yours.”

And he did, falling slightly into her and having to support himself on the mattress. He groaned loudly, those freckles flushing. But he knew she hadn’t come again, and he kept himself inside her as he leaned down, “now, any man you ever fuck you’ll know I’m here. You’re mine, angel. My darling.”

With a flick of his wrist, she came undone.

[sanrielle]

I've been thinking a lot about Katara and her feminism vs. her desire to preserve her dying culture. Like I know that the SWT probably isn't as sexist as the NWT, but there are still a lot of enduring practices that have roots in patriarchy, as demonstrated by Sokka's earlier sexism.

So I think Katara would end up with an odd mix. She's obviously a staunch feminist who thinks girls and women should follow their own paths, regardless of what society in general thinks their roles should be. But at the same time, she can't escape from some of the subtler (and possibly more insidious) traditions of 'propriety' and the role of women as the homemakers.

[Obligatory disclaimer that I don't know that much about Inuit culture when it comes to these things. I'm purely basing this off of what is shown in the cartoon itself.]

Something that kinda goes along with this is Katara's necklace. To her, it's a symbol of her grandmother's struggle for independence, as well as a memento of her mother and the sacrificial love she displayed. In the NWT, it represented (at best) a romantic commitment and (at worst) a transfer of property. I don't think she'd associate hers with either, and she'd probably be insulted if Aang tried to give her a new one when proposing.

(I maintain that the necklace she wears as an old lady is the same one she had in childhood. The fact that it looks wonky in that one screenshot is nothing more than lackluster rendering.)

Anyway, I've gone a little off topic. I just think she's a really interesting study in how someone can rail against the negative parts of their culture that don't appeal to them, while also having an internalized fondness for some of those same traditions, simply because they are familiar and nostalgic.

Take Toph for contrast. I don't think she's the butch anti-feminine person a lot of people make her out to be. She just does what she wants. She's perfectly happy to go to the spa or wear dresses and makeup, but only if it's her choice to do so. She's railing against the repressive and oppressive culture of elite EK society simply because she previously had no agency over her life.

Meanwhile, Katara takes an active role in seeing to the physical and emotional needs of her brother/friends. And even though that 'motherly' role is largely a trauma response and something she deeply resents at times, I think it's also a source of comfort to her. Something about her culture that she desperately clings to.

I think a lot about her and Aang's life post-war. They would be very focused on reconstruction for years, most likely. Katara would have her own projects with the Water Tribes, but also spend a lot of time helping Aang. Some part of her craves the validation of appearing to be 'proper' concerning her relationship with him. Maybe she's a bit hypocritical about it: unwilling to wait until they've settled down to be intimate, but also reluctant to publicly break certain social 'rules'.

She keeps telling herself there's so much to do in the world, and maybe she feels this heavy burden to do as much good as she can before allowing herself to rest and slow down and create the family she's always wanted.

But then ten(ish) years have passed and suddenly! Baby on the way! Oops! Katara knows she's a public figure and cares a lot about how she's seen. She wants the respect of the people from her own culture. And so they stop. They get married. They settle down.

Katara becomes the wife and mother, which she definitely wants while also having some lingering regrets and conflicting feelings. She still wants to be a role model for other girls and women, but she likes not being constantly on the move and fighting people and playing politics. She likes getting up in the middle of the night to sing an old Water Tribe lullaby to her baby. She likes it the most when Aang is there because he's always seen her as an equal partner, not a piece of property.

Anyway, I didn't really have a point. Just rambling about my own headcanons. I've always put a lot more thought into Toph and Sokka's characters, but I guess Kataang has been on my mind lately. And tbh I never gave Katara the attention she deserved when writing fics, which is a travesty.

[kandisheek]

FIC REC WEEK 18 – CREATURE FIC

Fangbait by FestiveFerret

Pairing: Steve/Tony Rating: E Words: 5,396 Tags: Vampire Steve, One Night Stand, Blood Play

Summary: There's only one reason Tony would go to a bar like this, dressed the way he is: fangbait.

Reasons why I love it: The whole concept of humans specifically going out to get picked up by vampires is really great. And Tony obviously knows what he's doing, which I love, because confidence is sexy as hell. But so is Steve when he's fumbling every step of the way until he hits familiar ground and gives Tony the night of his life. I love this fic so much, and I bet you will too, so please go and check it out!

Best Time of the Month by Onetruesikorsky

Pairing: Steve/Tony Rating: E Words: 4,243 Tags: Capwolf, Knotting, PWP

Summary: Original prompt was: There are some really great capwolf fics out there, but can someone give me Tony getting down and dirty with Capwolf? Knotting not optional. So, yeah. This is Tony happily getting down and dirty with Capwolf. And knotting.

Reasons why I love it: The fact that Tony trusts Steve enough to sleep with him when he's in his wolf form speaks for itself. And Capwolf is adorable in his impatience and yet infinite care when it comes to Tony. This fic is insanely hot and surprisingly sweet, so if you love Capwolf, you're going to enjoy this one!

If the Water's Still Flowing by Sineala

Pairing: Steve/Tony Rating: E Words: 8,106 Tags: Merman Steve, Interspecies Sex, Fluff and Smut

Summary: When a flight test of Tony's new Iron Man suit model sends him plunging into the depths of the Atlantic, rescue comes from the most unlikely of sources. Tony had thought mermaids were fictional, but this man is very, very real. And Tony certainly never expected the merman to be handsome... and the attraction to be mutual.

Reasons why I love it: Steve is so goddamn cute as a merman, holy shit. I love the exploration of his and Tony's cultural differences and how it translates into them having sex. It's really sweet how they keep accommodating each other until they find a way to be together. And Steve getting all hot and bothered over French kisses is so fucking cute, oh my god, I love him. Definitely go and read this one, it's so much fun!

Protecting What's Mine by ATOASTBW

Pairing: Steve/Tony Rating: E Words: 8,391 Tags: Vampire Tony, Werewolf Steve, Mating Cycles

Summary: Despite being a vampire and a werewolf, Tony and Steve have overcome the odds to become best friends, and for the past six hundred years, that's all they have been: friends; nothing more, nothing less. That is, until Steve experiences a problem with one of his ruts, and being his best friend (and definitely not because he's attracted to Steve), Tony decides to help him out. However, the issues go much deeper than that of just sex, and the two are finally forced to face the true nature of their relationship.

Reasons why I love it: Steve pining after Tony for literally half a millennium and resigning himself to suffering in silence makes so much sense for his character, but holy shit, I just want to smush their face together! I love how in control Steve is throughout his rut, and how he makes sure that Tony is okay at all times. And the fluff at the end is absolute perfection. I hope you check this one out, because it's wonderful!

Turn Around (Three Times Before Lying Down) by kellifer_fic

Pairing: Steve/Tony Rating: M Words: 15,573 Tags: Werewolves, Action/Adventure, Hurt/Comfort

Summary: Everyone knows that Tony Stark is a playboy, billionaire philanthropist, but what they don’t know is that he’s also a werewolf. When a government agency known as SHIELD finds out, they use this information to force Tony’s hand and bring him into a new elite lycan field team, codename The Avengers Initiative. Suddenly Tony finds himself playing host to a bunch of lycans, a misplaced God of Thunder and an experimental supersoldier that isn’t as dead as everyone assumed. Can his week get any worse?

Reasons why I love it: My heart just bleeds for Steve in this one. The sentiment of being in between two groups, never really belonging to either, really hit home for me. And it's so lovely to see the pack bond form between the Avengers, especially because getting there is such a journey for them. This fic is amazing, and I highly recommend you read it for yourself!

[shannendoherty-fans]

Shannen Doherty by Giles Bensimon for the September 1995 issue of Elle magazine.

When Shannen Doherty was bad, she was bad enough to play lead bitch in the cult movie Heathers, get booted from Beverly Hills 90210, and have an ex-boyfriend claim in a national magazine that she was planning to sic him with sodomizing hit men.

Things change. Recently, a newly chastened Doherty got to live out a dream – spening a day as a fashion model (which she does here) – and work with one of the hottest young directors of Holywood.

Her latest movie, Mallrats, a Fast Times at Ridgemont High-style film from Clerks creator Kevin Smith; brings out a previously unexplored side of her personality. Doherty, twenty-four, describes her character as "a teenage shopaholic who emerges from every store wearing a different outfit." Hanging out in a mall for four of the six weeks of filming made her feel claustrophobic, she says, but playing a quick-change artist wasn't much of a stretch. "I always wanted to be a model. Whenever I have a photo shoot I practically run to the set. the scary part is that I'm only five foot four," Doherty says. "I met Clauda schiffer the other day and I looked like a midget next to her."

She nevertheless slips on some out-size attittude to pose in Gianni Versace's strict but seductive clothes for fall. For her favourite outfit, a pale blue, slightly boxy suit, she assumes whay she calls "a kind of Italian-stewardess-sexy look."

One role she isn't eager to replay is tabloid cover girl. "People take a character that you act for four years and assume it's you," she says. Brenda, her alter ego in 90210, was "young, immature, flighty, maybe bitchy. I proved that I could act by how strongly people reacted to her." The part made her famous and prompted nationwide circulation of the I Hate Brenda newsletter. But Doherty insists, "I'm nothing like that. Not," she points out, "that I can't strike it up for a photo shoot." – Jennifer Scruby.

[azspot]

Prostitution, she argues, is the quintessential expression of global capitalism. Our corporate masters are pimps. We are all being debased and degraded, fleeced economically and stripped of basic civil liberties and political agency, to service the cruel and lascivious demands of the corporate elite. Jeffrey Epstein surrounded himself not only with prostituted underage girls, but the powerful, including Donald Trump, who 27 women have accused of sexual misconduct, along with Bill Clinton and Prince Andrew. The hard drives found in Epstein’s safe at his Manhattan mansion, which purportedly included videos of sexual encounters filmed on his properties, have disappeared. It is unlikely they will reappear. The wretched of the earth are reduced in the neoliberal model to serving the desires and fetishes of the wealthy and the privileged.

Chris Hedges

[nicoleshelleymodels1]

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[scrixtcn]

diamonds in the sky

genre: sugar daddy/ceo!au | strangers to lovers!au | equal amounts of fluff and complicated not quite angst but angsty feelings

pairing: choi seungcheol x reader 

word count: 12.2k

a/n: coups is sweet and caring but also is perfectly able to throw money at his problems for them to not be problems anymore. also him in any kind of suit kills me. 

You knew this would be another one of those nights.

“This way, darlings,” the hotel manager whistles while ushering you and three other girls out of the elevator. “They won’t wait, you know.”

At the very top of the building is the hotel bar, a rather infamous location frequented by the rich and elite 1%. Word on the street had the Starlight bar as the coveted meetup for all sorts of transactions—both shady and open market deals between those seeking and those offering their “services” for a price. You belonged to the unfortunate latter, one slip-up in the contract signing you off as a female escort rather than the aspiring model that had been advertised in the agency’s flyers.

“Can I borrow some lipstick?”

You dig through your silver clutch, coming up empty-handed at hearing your fellow escort/best friend’s inquiry.

“Sorry, Hana, I don’t have any on me.”

The girl on the right hands over hers, and you stifle a giggle at the orange shade that doesn’t fit Hana’s look at all.

“Hana,” you begin slowly, holding out a compact mirror, “You might want to look at yourself before going in.”

She glances at the reflection and screams, the shrill sound startling even the manager. He turns around from his conversation at the bar counter, wondering if everything is alright. Not wanting to start a fuss, Hana nods furiously and tugs you aside, giving dirty glares to the one who offered her the disastrous tube of lipstick in the first place.

“Please tell me you have something—anything—in your bag to save my lips.”

“Well…” You look again and settle on a pack of tissues and clear lip gloss. “Maybe you can wipe it off?”

Letting out a low growl, she takes you on the offer and excuses herself from the group to freshen up in the bathroom. Left alone with the other two girls, you shrug off the questions on Hana’s outburst with an apologetic smile. No need to offer more than necessary to girls you probably wouldn’t ever see again.

Once the bartender announces that the guests in the private rooms are ready and waiting, you start to follow the others, only to be held back by a firm hand.

“One of the clients is arriving late,” the manager informs you, “Can you go to the 3rd floor instead?”

You frown. “This wasn’t what was paid for.

“And why me? Why me and not them?”

“You were handpicked,” the manager answers, giving you a once-over. “Y/N, right? He said you’d be wearing a black off-shoulder dress with frills?”

The exact description of your outfit brings bitterness to your tongue. There was only one person who knew exactly what you’d be wearing tonight—the guy who had gifted you the dress during one of your nights with him the week before.

“Fine,” you grumble, “But tell Jeonghan he owes me double from what he usually pays.”

—

Yoon Jeonghan was a snake if you ever saw one.

You were never able to pinpoint why he was so infatuated with you, always eager to see you whenever your paths crossed during your other “work events”. There were times when he even called the agency to specifically ask for your company, earning yourself the title as “Jeonghan’s favorite” amongst your colleagues. Maybe he did like spending time with you. Or maybe… maybe he just wanted a new toy to play with after he got bored with his other girlies.

As expected, Jeonghan extends his arms for a hug the moment you get out of the elevator to the 3rd floor, a gesture you purposely avoid to show your displeasure at being pulled aside from the group call you had agreed to.

“Who stepped on your tail?” he asks coyly, giving a mock bow to kiss your hand. “Love the dress, by the way.”

“I didn’t know you’d be here tonight,” you answer crisply, “Let alone pull me aside to cater to whatever scheme you’re plotting right now.”

He laughs, a devilish sound like you just stumbled right into his clutches. “Everything will play out as it always does.”

A card key is tossed your direction before you can press on for more details.

“I need you to keep a look out for my friend. He’s staying in this room.”

You catch it before it falls to the floor and study the card. VIP Suite. Not an ordinary person by the looks of it.

“Why me?”

“Believe it or not, I don’t trust anyone else but you.”

Hearing Jeonghan mention trust brings an unexpected cackle from your throat. Since when was the devil trustworthy?

“I’m serious,” he repeats, turning tail and holding up a hand. “Take good care of him, sweetheart.”

“Wait, I don’t even know how he looks like!”

You watch as Jeonghan leaves, his figure growing smaller and smaller down the hallway. With a huff, you walk down the hall, stopping once you locate the correct room. One swipe of the card key and you find yourself stepping into the biggest space you’d ever seen at Starlight. The room not one of your caliber can easily enter, you find yourself frozen in place until you remember what Jeonghan had said before he left.

I need you to keep a lookout for my friend.

Shaking off your shoes, you step barefoot onto the carpet and wiggle your toes in excitement at exploring the space. Jeonghan never said you couldn’t look around while waiting for his friend.

“Whoa…” There is a whole separate hallway linking to the bathroom and bedroom, the entire suite no different than a service apartment targeted for long term stay. Obviously, luxury took precedent—even the sliding glass doors leading to the outdoor Jacuzzi are shined to perfection, the lights catching glimmers in contrast to the slowly darkening sky. Stepping back inside, you pranced around the open kitchen, where there’s a small stove for cooking next to the fridge.

“Well equipped.”

Midway into digging through the fridge for a bite to eat, you hear the door click open and startle, bumping your head atop the inner ceiling of the icebox.

“Who are you?”

Shuffling backwards, you shake your head and meet the dazed eyes of a drunken man. Tie in hand, his shirt is unbuttoned and to be honest, you weren’t expecting one of Jeonghan’s friends to look so slovenly at the first meeting.

“Hi, I’m—”

His chest heaves, and you have the shock of your life when he throws up directly onto the carpet and the conveniently placed heels you had taken off to freely explore his suite.  

God dammit.

—

Seungcheol doesn’t remember a thing when he opens his eyes the next morning, yawning as he sits up in bed. There had been drinks sure, but the exact amount remains a mystery after blacking out last night. How he made it back to the hotel was also a story for another day when he sees the cheerful grin of his friend sitting directly next to.

“You were quite a mess last night,” Jeonghan snickers, handing over a glass of water. “I didn’t know you had it in you to drink so much.”

“I…” Taking the water, he drinks and a flickering memory surfaces in his mind.

“Was there someone else here?”

Jeonghan chuckles. “You really don’t remember what you did to her last night?”

“What do you mean?” Panic settles in his throat and he immediately puts down the glass, grabbing Jeonghan by the shoulders. “What… What did I do?”

“You…” Jeonghan breaks into laughter mid-explanation. “You threw up all over my friend’s shoes, that’s what.”

Oh, shit.

—

Hana hadn’t stopped laughing once she heard about your unfortunate night, irritating you to no end when she brings it up again during weekend brunch with her sister.

“So Y/N goes down to the guy’s suite,” Hana reiterates, waving her fork in the process, “Looking around, and the guy just throws up once he’s inside. All over her shoes, too!”

“I swear, I will knock your mimosa onto the floor if you bring it up again.”

Unfazed by your empty threat, she shifts her glass to the other side and mimics throwing up, an all-inclusive experience with sounds of vomiting and contortions of her face in disgust. Her sister tries to keep a straight face, but you can see the giggles already starting to break through from the tightened lips.

“Okay, laugh,” you sigh, giving in to the inevitable. “Poke fun at my misery after having to walk home in wet and smelly heels.”

Giggles echo around the table, catching the attention of the other guests at the restaurant. You pick up your cutlery knife and angrily cut apart the omelet on the plate, mutilating the yellow pillow of egg with other meats and veggies tucked inside.

“it’s just so funny,” Hana snickers, letting out the last laughs before taking a deep breath and making a zipping motion over her lips. “That’s it, I promise.”

Her sister does the same, promising to leave it at that.

“Did you manage to get his number at least?”

You shake your head. “He was out like a snuffed candle after he finished throwing up all over the floor. I had to call room service and make sure they put it on his tab before I left.”

“That’s unfortunate.” Hana exchanges a glance with her sister and her sister proceeds to take out a business card, sliding it over to you. “Which is why I had my sister get it for you!”

“Huh?”

Her sister pushes up the glasses rested on the bridge of her nose. “I asked my journalist friends and they told me it’s him.”

You pick up the business card and read the name printed in black font.

“Choi… Seungcheol?”

“He’s the CEO of the hotel chain that Starlight is under,” your friend’s sister continues, “Quite a big name, so there’s always someone keeping tabs on him.”

“You should give him a call,” Hana insists, “Get compensation for your shoes, at the very least.”

“I don’t know…” You fold up the business card and stuff it in your purse. “I’d rather not get reminded about what he did.”

“It’s only right he gives you back a new pair of shoes!”

Your phone rings before you can offer a rebuttal, it being no other than the guy who had gotten you into such a mess from the start. You accept the call and hold the phone close to your ear, not giving the sisters a chance to eavesdrop.

“Hi, Jeonghan.”

“Are you free?” his voice chirps through the speaker. “My friend said he wants to apologize for last night.”

“I…” You stand up from your seat, mouthing goodbye to your friends while walking to a quieter spot to answer his call.

“I don’t really want to see him, if I’m being honest.”

Jeonghan whines at your hesitation. “He really feels bad and wants to make it up to you, sweetheart.”

“If anything, you should be the one to make it up to me!” you snap, voice raising outside the restaurant doors. “If it wasn’t for you, I wouldn’t—”

“Fine,” he relinquishes, “It’s my fault and I’ll pay triple if you go meet with him. Do it for me, please?”

Mention of the extra pay tickles your taste buds, but you push down the thought with a huff. He takes it as agreement and blows kisses from his end, offering to send his limousine to pick you up after asking for your current whereabouts. He was always like this, agreeing to anything and everything if things went his way. You didn’t like being pulled along to his whims, but didn’t want to take advantage of his kindness to you either.

The limousine pulls up in a matter of minutes, quicker than you expected. Perhaps he had been in the area, the driver offering a quick bow once he recognizes it’s you he’s picking up.

“Young Master Jeonghan said to drop you off at Starlight, miss?”

“Wherever he said to go, that’s where I’m going,” you reply, making yourself comfortable in the back. “He didn’t tell me where.”

“Understood.” He hops back into the driver’s seat and shifts gear. “We will be at Starlight shortly.”

—

“Hey.”

It’s strange how you know which table to go to once you arrive at the Starlight bar, the lone figure before the dry martini somehow pulling at your heartstrings as you slide into the seat next to.

“Do you… remember me?”

He looks up, and you nearly have a double take. This Choi Seungcheol looked nothing like yesterday’s drunken state. Today he is soberly dressed in a dark pinstripe suit, hair slicked back. The silver ring on his pinky knocks against the counter as he taps his hand on the surface, gesturing for the bartender. He proceeds to order a shot of tequila—Jeonghan must have told him your usual go-to drink before you arrived.

“No,” he admits, “But Jeonghan said I threw up all over your shoes?”

The memory brings back unpleasant thoughts. Panic at his passed-out figure by the door after he finished vomiting, frantic calls to room service and emphasizing for them to put the service charge on his tab…

He notices the grimace on your face and apologizes again. 

“I’m terribly sorry you had to clean up my mess.”

You wave it off, nodding in thanks to the bartender who brings over the shot of tequila.

“It’s fine.”

“Are you sure?” he presses on, lifting the martini and consuming half the cocktail in one long sip. “I can make it up to you.”

“It’s just a pair of shoes, no big deal.

“Another shot of tequila, please.”

The bartender holds up an ‘OK’, which makes you smile and you spin to face Seungcheol.

“If you want to make it up to me, Mister Choi, can you treat me to another round of drinks?”

He does a double take at hearing his name, garnering a chuckle from your parted lips.

“It’s not hard to get information about someone as well-known as you.”

Seungcheol cracks a smile at your words. “I didn’t know I was so popular.”

The second shot of tequila makes its way before you, accompanying it a second martini for Seungcheol courtesy of the bartender.

“Cheers? You’re forgiven for throwing up on my shoes, Mister Choi Seungcheol.”

“Just call me Seungcheol,” he laughs, a hearty sound that echoes warmly across the bar when the glasses clink. “But really, this won’t do when I ruined your shoes.”

“Hmm… I can’t think of anything now, so l’ll take a rain check on your offer.”

“Then I’ll have Jeonghan give you my number. That way, you can call me once you decide how you want me to make it up to you.”

◇

You never did call Seungcheol to cash in on his offer, not one to insist on compensation for something as trivial as ruined shoes. Vomiting happened when people drank a bit too much. It wasn’t like those shoes were valuable or even held any sentimental value (they were gifted by a former colleague after she left to sign to a rival agency with better pay and benefits).

Jeonghan had pestered you for a week asking why you never contacted his friend, but you held your ground and purposely ignored his calls whenever he asked about you contacting Seungcheol, rendering you going without pay that week due to not seeing him. Curse the clause in your contract that stated you had to attend individual calls at least three times a week or else pay from group calls would be forfeited entirely to the agency.

“How much longer are you going to play hooky?”

Hana stands by the desk in your room with a bag of chips in hand, digging into the bag while waiting for your response. Crumbs trickle onto the floor and you get up from bed, shooing her out to stand by the door if she had to eat while talking.

“You’re sweeping these up yourself if you take one more step forward while eating your chips.”

She rolls her eyes and reaches for another chip. “You heard me, missy. No pay means no rent. No rent means you and I are going to have to sleep on the streets.”

“I know,” you enunciate, crossing your arms in distaste. “I’ll figure something out before the end of the month.”

“I’m holding you to it,” Hana declares, flicking a chip crumb your direction. “You said you’d figure it out.”

“Get out before I hand you the broom to sweep up my room.”

Once she leaves, you close the door and sigh. The end of the month was coming up in three days’ time. You’re sure Hana isn't the type to save either, so likely you’d have to cover her share (or part of it) as you usually do. Her big spending always end in maxed out credit cards every month, an amount not even help from her sister can cover to pay in full as you liked.

Jeonghan usually more than willing to offer financial assistance, your latest cold war with him had turned him to call for other girls to accompany him to parties or other work events. No way in hell were you going to ask him for help.

Perhaps…

—

“Welcome to Andromeda, do you have an appointment?”

You swallow nervously at seeing the crisp beige wallpaper and red sofas lined around the corners for those waiting to see the CEO to sit at. Everything screamed precision and order, two things you never had in your line of work as an escort. Even the receptionist’s white blouse and black pencil skirt were neater than the scuffed blue denim dress you picked out of your closet just an hour prior.

Talk about two different worlds.

“I… I do,” you lie, crossing your hands behind your back. “Can you tell Seung… Mister Choi he owes me a new pair of shoes?”

The receptionist looks up at you from her computer and you put on your best smile.

“Please? Your boss will understand.”

If there is the slightest sigh from her parted lips, you miss it, digging your nails into your palms as she picks up the telephone and dials into his office. To your delight, she hangs up and proceeds to gesture for you to enter. You nod in thanks and uncross your hands; the nail marks leaving indents on the skin, you quickly rub your palms to soothe your frantic nerves and push open the doors.

Seungcheol looks up from his desk and blinks twice at seeing you in person. A rare sight that has him standing up, mouth widening to a grin when he recognizes you.

“I was wondering who it was that I owed a pair of shoes.”

You smile and take a seat. “I’m glad you still remember.”

“What’s the occasion?” he asks, sitting back down and sliding his documents and files aside. “You could’ve texted me; you have my business card.”

“Can you lend me some money?”

Straight to the point, it catches him off guard and he asks you to repeat it to make sure he heard it right the first time. You reiterate the request for a loan and watch carefully as he leans back in his chair.

“What’s it for?”

“Rent,” you begin slowly, “I have three days before the end of the month when it’s due. And…”

“And?”

“I really can’t think of anyone else to help me but you, Seungcheol.”

His face is expressionless, and you continue in hopes to move him enough to lend a helping hand.

“I’m sorry if me coming here unannounced was rude. Really, I… Jeonghan’s been annoying me and I’ve been ignoring his calls because all he does is ask if I had you compensate me for ruining my shoes that night. In… In my—”

You flourish a hand around the phrase ‘line of work’. “In my line of work, there’s a clause with my agency that states escorts have to take individual calls at least three times a week or else pay is turned over entirely to the management company. I haven’t been paid in the last two weeks and you’re the only one who can help me this time.”

The silence in his office is overbearing, so thick in the air that you nearly make a notion to get up and open the windows until he breaks the silence himself.

“You’ve been ignoring Jeonghan’s calls?”

“Y-Yeah,” you mumble, taking out your phone to show him the call history. “Even have his number blocked.”  

The tiniest snort breaks way into a full bout of warm laughter, the same laughter that tickled your insides from your first meeting with him at the Starlight bar. Clearly he is amused by your answer, even delighted at the fact that you’d been ignoring Jeonghan.

“No wonder he’s been sulky,” Seungcheol chuckles. “All because his favorite escort girl wasn’t answering his calls.”

Still laughing to himself, he reaches into one of the drawers and takes out a checkbook. You watch as he grabs a pen from the container on his desk and scribbles an amount onto one of the checks, tearing it out and handing it over once he signs off on it.

“I hope this is enough?”

You glance over the amount written at the top right and hold back a gasp. It was more than enough. Enough to pay for the next three months, enough to pay off Hana’s credit card bill overdue from last month, enough to even treat yourself to some new dresses to wear to work after subtracting the necessary expenses first.

“I…”

“Do you need more?”

“No,” you blurt out, reaching your hand out to take away his container of pens. “It’s… It’s too much.”

An arched eyebrow and his curious gaze pierces straight through you; you fidget a little but proceed to reaffirm your stance on his check.

“It’s too much. I only need enough to pay for this month’s rent.”

“Then consider the rest my compensation for a new pair of shoes.” He gestures to his pens and you quickly hand them back, embarrassed by your rash behavior to someone kind enough to lend money for your troubles.  

Picking up the fallen check from across the desk, Seungcheol stands up, offering the much-needed money to you again.

“This check is yours. Even has your name on it and everything.”

Hesitant fingers eventually grab hold of the check and tuck the slip carefully into your cross-body bag. Taking a deep breath, you bow in thanks and he hurriedly makes his way around to hold your hands.

“No, no, don’t do that,” he blubbers, panic settling in his eyes. “I-I didn’t mean to sound mean, really—”

“You’re very kind, Seungcheol.” Rubbing at your eyes, the budding tears of gratitude are flicked away and your lips widen to a grin that uproots the tension and anxiety about making ends meet. “I’m glad I blocked Jeonghan’s number on my phone.”

He laughs at your remark. “Well, it’s not every day I see him sulk and get flustered, so it was worth every penny.

“Are you free tonight, by the way?”

The question catches you by surprise. “Tonight?”

“For dinner,” he explains, “To celebrate being able to pay rent for next month.”

“You want to treat me to dinner with more of your money?”

“Sorry,” you wince, taking a step back, “I didn’t intend to sound so… harsh.”

Seungcheol shakes his head. The hint of the smallest smile dances around the corner of his lips, one that carries a bit more than amusement and awe at your sharp words.

“It’s fine. It means you have nothing to hide from me.

“So dinner at 7pm tonight?”

You nod, tucking the memory of the smile to the back of your mind.

“I’d love to.”

—

Dinner with Seungcheol didn’t just happen that one night, but for (surprisingly) many more consecutive nights. You might have already sampled every single high-end restaurant featured in the local magazines at this rate, candlelight dinners in the presence of one of the richest men in the city with complimentary wine and dessert. Seungcheol also had a habit of greeting you with a gift each time he picked you up from work, the gesture bordering on more than mere friendliness whenever you consulted Hana about it.

“He likes you,” she had said in the simplest explanatory manner, “Maybe he even sees himself as a sugar daddy of some sort to you.”

The term eliciting a nose scrunch and firm shake of your head, you firmly tell yourself that cannot be. Surely it’s anything but that when you technically still owed him money. Why would he want to spend time (and more money) on someone indebted to him?

—

“Bestie, your boo’s calling.”

You look up from the dresser, lipstick in hand. “Who?”

“The one and only Yoon Jeonghan, that’s who.”

Capping the lipstick, you get up and head out to the living room. Hana gestures to the phone still ringing on the coffee table, two pieces of chips in between her manicured fingers. Scooting past her, you scan the screen and a pang of disappointment tickles your bones when you see it really is Jeonghan calling and not someone else.

“Hello?”

“Finally remembered to unblock my number?”

His crisp tone does little to faze you. 

“Should I re-enter it to my block list?”

“Well, no.” There’s sniffling on his end, and you overhear a distant sneeze. “I was just checking to see if you really unblocked me like Cheol said you did.”

Tingles tickle your stomach at hearing Seungcheol’s name, but you push it down with a huff.

“You know I’m a woman of my word, Jeonghan.”

“I do. Which is why I’d like you to go out to buy some soup for me right now.”

“What?” You check the time on your phone and it’s already 7:15pm. “I can’t get soup for you. Me and Hana are having a girls’ night out today.”

“Please. You’re the only one who can do this for me.”

“Jeonghan, can’t you just—”

His voice is muffled, and you catch the tail ends of a cough when he resumes speaking into the phone.

“I would stay here to take care of him, but there is a dinner I absolutely cannot miss out on, sweetheart.” Desperation laced in his pleas, Jeonghan’s voice is muffled again and you stand stumped at the cutoffs in the conversation. The phone call then ends altogether, leaving you even more confused when the entire thing sounded like an emergency.

“What the fuck?”

Your phone then pings with an incoming text, complete with pictures of a bedridden Seungcheol next to a mountain of used tissues and the address to deliver the soup to once you bought it.

“Hana,” you begin once you tuck your phone into the back pocket of your jeans. “I can’t go with you tonight. One of my friends is sick.”

◇

You will never forget the look of relief on Jeonghan’s face when he opens the door to Seungcheol’s VIP Suite at Hotel Celestia, a Choi establishment on the other side of the city.  

“Thank god you’re here,” he sighs, rummaging into his wallet and taking out two of his credit cards. “Use these if you need anything else.”

Gone before you can even say goodbye, you hold up a hand and wave anyway, closing the door. The lights are on the dimmest setting once you step in, the choice to keep your shoes on a firm one after the fiasco from your first meeting. This time, the suite didn’t hold the luxurious feel it should’ve had for a hotel suite, but rather an emptiness at the lack of another presence besides the coughing heard from around the corner.

“Seungcheol?”

Around the corner, you spot the mountain of used tissues on the floor and see him bundled up in bed. Picking your way through, you set down the container of soup on whatever space is left on the nightstand and slowly place a hand on his forehead.

“You’re burning up.”

Somehow you take on the role of a nurse for the remainder of the evening, shuffling from the kitchen to heat up the soup to the bathroom and back after cleaning up the tissue mountain and messy bedroom. Washing your hands diligently after touching all the germs, you pull up a chair and take off the towel on his forehead, feeling his temperature again.

“Not as hot as before.”

As quietly as possible, you lean forward and tap him on the shoulder. Seungcheol stirs, eyes barely open when he feels your touch.

“Jeonghan called me over,” you explain, “I brought some soup, you should—”

He mumbles something you fail to catch, and when he repeats it you realize he’s not calling for you in his feverish state.

Who is he asking for?

Seungcheol blinks, and he quickly shakes his head when he notices you sitting before him.

“H-Hi.”

You offer a wave and gesture at the now-cold soup.

“For you. Courtesy of Jeonghan.”

He nods and you hand over the container of soup, which he drinks straight out of in large gulps.

“T…Thanks.”

Taking the empty container, you nod and set it down before speaking.

“You still have a bit of a temperature, but it’s a lot better than before.”

His eyes more energetic than earlier, Seungcheol shakes his head and looks at you with an apologetic smile.

“Sorry you had to… see me like this.”

You cross your legs and fiddle with your fingers, the unknown name bugging your mind. To ask or not to ask, especially when he is unwell.

“Did… Did you eat?”

“Sorry,” you blurt out, standing up from the chair. “I… I have to go.”

“So soon?”

“Yeah, I…” Without looking at him, you grab your purse and hurriedly wave, not catching the last bit as you take your leave.

—

“Rent’s due again, bestie.”

You gesture at the envelope sitting on your desk. “Give that to the landlord when you see him later.”

Hana skips towards your desk and picks up the envelope. A low whistle twinkles through the room at the stack of bills nestled inside.

“You got this from Seungcheol?”

“Jeonghan,” you correct her, “I asked him for a favor and that’s what he gave me.”

“I thought Seungcheol was your new sugar daddy now.”

Picking up a pillow from your spot on the bed, you throw it at her and she quickly dodges.

“What did I say wrong now??”

“He’s just a friend,” you mutter, digging deeper into the covers. “Nothing more.”

“Girl, he was taking you out to dinner every night and getting you all those exquisite gifts. I don’t think that’s something a regular friend would do.”

Poking your head out, you let out a guttural scream and she leaves, closing the door behind her while taking the envelope. No longer in the mood to sleep, you kick the blankets off and sit up. Ever since his sick day, you’d been avoiding Seungcheol like the plague—ignoring his texts, purposely not picking up his calls, using Jeonghan as an excuse whenever he tried to ask you out on the off chance he crossed paths during your other calls. If Jeonghan had noticed you were playing the ghost card he didn’t show it, not one to pry when he was back on your good graces.

A vibration buzzes from your nightstand and you reach over a hand; panic lights up in your eyes when you see the caller id. The phone rings for two more times, then buzzes again, this time from your roommate.

“What is it, Hana?”

“Can you come out here? There’s someone here to see you.”

“Wait, who in the—” You hurriedly get out of bed and change to a set of more presentable clothes. Fixing your hair, you brush out any knots and rush out.

“Is the landlord here early, I saw you take the money…”

Your words fade when you see who is standing next to Hana in the living room.

“I’m sorry,” she mouths, holding up two envelopes (the second one equally as thick as the one she took for rent). “He said I can have another envelope of the same amount if I can get you out of your room.”

She scurries away before you can scold her for taking bribes and you sigh, a deep breath echoing across the four walls. 

“Why are you here?”

Seungcheol adjusts the collar of his white silk shirt. “You wouldn’t take my calls.”

“I’ve been busy.”

“Busy enough to ghost me but free to spend time with Jeonghan?”

The barb in his words is prickly, and you take a step back when he moves forward.

“Did I do something wrong?”

“No,” you murmur, unable to look him in the eye. “I mean, technically no.”

The gentlest of touches rests on your face and you muster the courage to look at him. Concern pools in his eyes as he studies your silence, lips contorted to a frown.

“You can tell me,” he reassures you. “You know I’ve never said no to you.”

The kindness unusually sharp, it digs into your heart and you wince at hearing his words.

“You need to leave.” Pushing him aside, you walk to open the front door and look away. “I can’t do this today, Seungcheol.”

“Wait, but—”

“Please.” You stand your ground. “You need to leave.”

He gives in, head low as he takes his exit. Once he fully passes through the threshold between your apartment and the hall, you slam the door shut and slump to the ground. You didn’t know why you were so frustrated at him over a name. This angry curiosity you’ve been carrying around since that day…

Not jealousy, no. But it festers like an untended wound, threatening to consume your insides the longer you leave it unchecked.

“God, this fucking sucks.”

◇

“Cheol brought these for you.”

You gloss over the Celine handbags, trying hard to not stare at the vintage pink one that had been out-of-stock for weeks. You mentioned it to Seungcheol once as an off-handed comment when he took you to the store to get you a gift, wistfully staring at the empty rack when the saleslady regretfully informed him they were out of that color for the bag. He promised to keep an eye out for it and apparently had taken it to heart, finally managing to get the pink one you wanted so long ago.  

“The smaller leather ones are very you,” Jeonghan muses, holding up each one in curiosity. “He knows your taste.”

“I don’t like this brand anymore,” you lie, shaking your head when he offers them your way. “Give them to your other girlfriends.”

He waves his hand, and one of his household staff comes forward to take away all the handbags.

“You know I’ll only keep them here until you’re in the mood to take them home.”

Glaring at his cheekiness, you scowl and he slings an arm over your shoulders.

“What did Cheol do this time to mess up your pretty smile?”

“He… You remember the day he got sick?”

“Yeah.”

“He… He was calling for someone else. It was a girl’s name, but I didn’t recognize it.”  

“…Then he still hasn’t forgotten about her.”

Jeonghan notices your tense posture and sighs.

“It’s not my story to tell.”

“But,” you begin, unable to hide the tremor in your voice. “But… Don’t you know a little… a little bit? Can’t you tell me a little bit?”

“I can’t.” Jeonghan releases his hold on you and stands up. “It’s really not my story to tell.”

Not even the puppy-dog eyes that usually worked wonders proves effective in prying open Jeonghan’s mouth, rendering you hopeless while pouting on the couch. He notices and takes your hand, pulling you up from your seat and squeezing your fingers for reassurance.

“Come on, I’ll treat you to dessert instead.”

“I don’t want it.”

“Not even matcha crepe cake? It’s the newest flavor at the dessert place you like so much.”

Unable to resist, you accept his hand and follow him out.

“Fine, but you’re paying.”

—

Maybe deep down you’d already known a man like Seungcheol would have a story to tell. A story he kept hidden from his closest friends, one he keeps close to his heart with vulnerabilities he has only shared with one other person.

You knew you weren’t that person, yet you couldn’t help but want to be the more you ruminated over the mysterious name. The her he clearly still wanted to see again despite their extremely publicized breakup. She, who moved on and was now married to the heir of one of the richest real estate firms in the country. The paparazzi periodically did feature spreads on whatever snippets they managed to snap of the couple’s private life: brunches, cocktail parties, pool fun, outings with their two children, etc. They looked happy, smiles all around.  

He had been happy for her. When you first brought up the magazine to him after doing your own research on the matter, you hadn’t caught the look of wistfulness in his eyes then, but now…

Now it made sense. The silence, diverted glances, abrupt changes in topic, it all now made sense.

“What’s on your mind, sweetheart?”

Startled, you turn your head and find yourself not at home, but in a private room at the Starlight bar. Just short of knocking the cocktail glass off your neighbor’s hand, apologies trickle from your parted lips and he chuckles.

“Jeonghan, you didn’t tell me she’s the airhead type.”

“She’s usually not,” Jeonghan muses, waving a hand in front of your face. “What are you thinking about?”

Ignoring his prying, you turn to his friend and offer another wave of apologies, raising your own glass of water.

“Buy her a drink, Joshua,” Jeonghan nags, “It’s the least you can do for taking my favorite girl away from me.”

“No, it’s okay,” you blurt out, not in the mood to drink tonight. “I’m not—”

“She doesn’t want a drink,” Joshua retorts, swinging an arm around your shoulder. “I’ll keep her company while—”

The door to the private room squeaks open, interrupting Joshua mid-sentence. You look up and freeze, not expecting to see Seungcheol of all people standing by the entryway. Jeonghan notices the growing tension and stands—ushering Seungcheol to sit—but Joshua is oblivious, grandiosely introducing you to his friend (whom he didn’t know you were already on very familiar terms with).

“She’s with me tonight,” Joshua smiles, closing the gap between you and him. “But she doesn’t seem to be warming up to me.”

Seungcheol turns to you with his eyebrows raised.

“Are you and Joshua together now?”  

It rubs you the wrong way, the way he asks the question. Why was he so quick to assume you already had somewhat of an intimate relationship with Joshua when you just met the guy today?

Jeonghan spots the fire in your gaze and extinguishes the flame with an interjected “No”, slapping Joshua’s arm off your shoulder and squeezing himself in the middle. One hand rests on your thigh, a comforting touch that helps in stilling the building anger and snappiness crawling up your throat to be spat out.

“Sorry, she’s with me actually,” Jeonghan smiles, “I’ve been booking her consistently since—you know—since you stopped asking for her.”

“Wait, she’s not—”

Joshua holds his tongue after seeing the sharp glance from Jeonghan, promising to call you again as he excuses himself to leave the tense atmosphere in the room. The trio of you, Seungcheol, and Jeonghan now alone, Jeonghan is the first to break the silence.

“I’m going to let you and Cheol have some time to sort out your problems,” he says to you, standing up and shaking his head when you tug at his sleeve for him to stay. “Call me when you’re done.”

You throw a glare at him, one that Seungcheol overlooks as he bids goodbye to Jeonghan.

Not liking the situation one bit, you reach for Joshua’s glass and down the margarita in one go, the burn in your throat akin to liquid courage for the upcoming confrontation.

“You scared off both my clients,” you begin with a huff. “Just because you’re also rich like them doesn’t mean—”

“Then I’ll pay triple for tonight,” The words slide off Seungcheol’s mouth smooth as honey. “You won’t be missing out on the two of them when I can pay for their share as well as mine.”

He scoots closer while you instinctively slide to the left. The gesture brings a scowl to his face and your hands curl into fists.

“I do not appreciate being bought out like that, Mister Choi.”

“I didn’t…” He licks his lips. “You were the one who kept avoiding me!”

“I wasn’t avoiding you,” you lie, angling your body away. “My schedule has been fully booked each time you reached out.”

A heavy sigh leaves his mouth. Clearly he picked up on the fact that you weren’t going to make this easy for him.

“Can you at least tell me when you’ll have more free time to meet with me?”

“I don’t know what I am to you, Seungcheol.”

He pauses, clasping his hands together and resting them on his knees.

“Care to explain why you think that way?”

You bite your lips, glancing back at him. He is as patient as ever while waiting for you to answer, and that is when you knew you had to come clean for your own sake if not his own.

“I… Who was it you were calling for that night you were sick?”

It’s funny how you can practically see the gears turning his brain, Seungcheol practically an open book to everyone around him. Never one to keep secrets (or someone able to keep a secret), but clearly even those who are usually open books have their own share of hidden chapters within the pages.

“I didn’t know,” he begins carefully, eyes downcast. “I didn’t know Jeonghan had called you to stop by.”

“Are you still thinking of her?”

“…No. She is happily married now.”

“Then why didn’t you say anything the first time?”

He tears his gaze away from the floor, fingers digging into his knuckles as tears pool in his eyes.

“Because I’m scared you won’t believe me when I say I feel nothing for her anymore. I’m scared of how much I don’t want to lose you when I realized I was starting to fall in love again.”

—

Much to Jeonghan’s disappointment, you had gone home with Seungcheol that night, his hand ever so tightly grasping yours while leaving Starlight. Making sure to let your roommate/best friend know of your whereabouts, you send her a quick text that you’d be staying at Seungcheol’s place and she all but replies back with a “:P”. No doubt her dirty mind expected more than just a good night’s sleep.

Nothing happened that was out of your expectations: an offer for a fresh change of clothes, shower, a late midnight snack (he had virtually nothing in his fridge but you weren’t hungry anyway), and sleeping in his bed while he set up camp in his study. You sense he wanted to elaborate on where things had ended in the bar, from the constant side glances and hesitation at even touching your hand when he brings over a clean shirt and pair of gray sweatpants in exchange for the pink pleated mini dress you chose to meet Jeonghan and Joshua in. It’s one thing to hear him out, but another to recharge and clear your mind after such an eventful night with some space and well-needed sleep.

Sleep was minimal, perhaps the enormous size of his bed daunting and keeping you awake with the thought of him tucked away in his study. He looked no better (dark eye bags and large yawns) alongside the messy bedhead and nearly bumps into the bathroom door if you didn’t alert him after freshening up.

“Did you have a good sleep?”

You turn around from your seat by the open kitchen, mug of instant coffee in hand.  

“I slept…okay.”

Yawning, he nods at hearing your answer and shuffles towards the fridge. His hair still sticking up on all ends, you have half a notion to get up and run your fingers through his dark locks to smooth it out when hearty chuckles echo across the kitchen area.

“Something wrong?” you ask, getting up and placing down your mug of coffee by the sink.

“I…” Seungcheol turns to face you with a sheepish smile. “I have absolutely nothing in my fridge for you to eat.”

“That’s fine. Jeonghan actually bought me dinner before we went for drinks at Starlight.” You grab the mug and take another large sip. “Plus, I usually skip breakfast on weekends anyway. Coffee is enough.”

The refrigerator closes softly and Seungcheol holds up his hands in defeat.

“Guess I’ll wait until later to eat too, then.”

“What, no, that’s—” You usher him out of the kitchen and towards his room. “Go change.”

“Change?”

“Get changed,” you clarify, “I’ll treat you to breakfast.”

—

You knew fast food was the last thing on his mind when you pull Seungcheol into the McDonald’s at the corner of the street.

“What is this place?”

Your mouth drops. “Choi Seungcheol, are you telling me you have never been to a McDonald’s before in your entire life?”

He returns an awkward grin, interest reclaimed by the large screen for self-ordering.

“You just tap here and then click pay?”

The disbelief is thick in your voice as you mutter away while ordering two Big Macs and French fries, ignoring his murmurs of awe at all the choices available on the menu.

“What’s this one?”

You follow his finger at the Happy Meal. Of course, he would ask about that one.

“That one comes with a toy.”

His eyes light up at the mention of a toy, and you aren’t surprised when he taps to include one Happy Meal into the order. Refusing to let him pay, you beat him to it once the order is confirmed, delegating him the responsibility of finding a vacant table while you wait to pick up the food from the front. The wait is thankfully not too long, and you spot him sitting at one of the tables by the window while looking extremely out of place in his purple dress shirt and black slacks.

“Do you always dress so formally?” you speak up the moment you place down the tray of food. “Even for something as simple as eating fast food?”

“I didn’t know you’d be bringing me here,” he replies, tunnel vision for the red box containing the Happy Meal. “This is the one with the toy, right?”

You nod, hiding a scoff as you watch him tear into the box. His eyes shine at the sight of the blue toy car and its driver, excitement prickling in the surrounding air.

“Wow,” you marvel at the large shell and ferocious jaws of Bowser, the character Seungcheol received in his Happy Meal. “Of all the ones to get from the Mario franchise, you get the one that’s the evilest.”

The shock on his face catches you by surprise, and you can’t find it in you to tease him anymore when he looks devastated at the idea.

“I’m just playing, Bowser’s cool in his own way.”

“He’s going in my office,” Seungcheol murmurs, tucking the toy away into the front pocket of his slacks. “Keep me company during the day.”

“Suit yourself.”

He reaches hesitantly for one of the burgers and unwraps it. You watch his reaction and snort at the look of awe on his face as he takes one, two, three more subsequent bites. It was the first time you had seen anyone so excited over fast food—let alone something as trivial as McDonald’s.

“May I?”

He hovers a hand over the French fries and you hand him the entire container.

“Eat your heart away.”

He must not eat fast food often, judging from the glow in his eyes. The Big Mac demolished in seconds, now it is the French fries that are tossed into the cave that is his stomach. You can feel the curious gazes of those around your table and continue to pick at your own burger, small bites all throughout.

“That was delicious,” Seungcheol hums, leaving no crumb of potato behind. “I can’t believe I’ve never had this before.”

“Fast food is common for people like me,” you laugh, crumpling the wrapper once you’ve finished eating. “It’s not as exciting as you’re making it out to be.”

He follows you like a puppy when you get up and clear the table, tossing the trash and putting the tray away before opening the door for him. The passerby all stare at Seungcheol like he’s an alien, the formality in his outfit sticking out like a sore thumb especially from the entrance to a McDonald’s. You try to walk fast to not catch attention, but the sudden grip on your forearm catches you off guard and you pause.

“Yes?”

“I just wanted to make sure you’re still here.”

“People are staring,” you sigh, easing his hand off you and interlacing your fingers to his. “Let’s go before they start asking questions about what someone like you is doing near a McDonald’s.”

The walk somehow turns into a window shopping adventure, Seungcheol stopping every few feet to stare at stores that catch his eye. He pulls you in after him despite your protests, making a lap around but not buying anything like he usually does. Clothing, makeup, even the local coffee shop catches his attention like Christmas had come early this year. Each time you humor him by letting him pull you in, no different from the role of a parent monitoring an excited child.

It stings your heart when you realize he was having fun because he probably never had the opportunity for such simple pleasures in life. Eating fast food or window shopping were things of minimal priority to his daily schedule, not like meeting with important clients or managing an entire social hierarchy of employees and upper management as CEO to one of the largest hotel chains in the city. People always say the sky’s the limit, but right now it feels as though there is an astronomical distance between his world and your very own.

So how is it possible for the silver spoon that is Choi Seungcheol to fall in love with you, the dullest utensil in the tray?

—

It would be unfair to assume he wasn’t interested in you.

Nearly everyone said the same: he liked you, he loved you, he clearly saw you as more than a friend or even one of the girls he chose to spend money on. He didn’t act like a mere sugar daddy who dropped thousands on you without breaking a sweat. Seungcheol had pretty much confessed the night he caught you at Starlight, no Jeonghan for you to use a shield to deflect to.

“So do you like him or not?”

You roll your eyes at your roommate, unamused at her habit of barging in without knocking.

“Hana, do you want to take him off my hands instead?”

She wiggles her eyebrows. “I’m not against the idea, but ask anybody and they can see he only has eyes for you.”

Scoffing, you turn your attention back to the open closet and settle on a black mini dress with a contrasting white collar. The bow tie and sleeves adding just the right amount of elegance, you pick it up and show it to Hana, who wrinkles her nose at seeing your choice.

“It’s cute and all, but sleeves?”

“What would you pick?”

She eases herself into the array and sifts through. Fingers expertly parting each hanger, she snaps her fingers once she finds what she deems worthy to wear for the night: an off-shoulder red satin dress with a high slit.

“No,” you refuse, ignoring her objections. “It’s just a cocktail party.”

“Then you gotta look the part! Who goes to a cocktail party wearing something an office secretary would wear?”    

Against your protests, your roommate insists on her dress of choice, even to the point of placing herself directly in front of your closet door so you had to physically push her aside if you wanted to switch dresses. Knowing how stubborn she can be…

“Okay, I’ll stick with this one,” you sigh, holding up the red dress. “Black heels good?”

She nods in confirmation, giddiness taking over when she spots your makeup bag on the dresser.

“Can I do your makeup? You’ll catch everyone’s attention for sure once I’m done with you!”

“…Just don’t go too crazy.”

—

Sometimes you wish you weren’t so kind.

There was clearly a reason why your instinctively felt the urge to follow a monochromatic color scheme. The sea of black suits and white gowns said it all, yet here you are in a shade of red that stuck out like bloodstains on a clean towel.

Did she know ahead of time? Impossible when she hadn’t even been invited.

Was the universe out to get you? Most definitely.

“Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.”

Looking up from your glass of champagne, you take the offered hand and squeeze. Jeonghan’s eyes widen, surprised at your iron grip.

“Hey, I’m not the one who didn’t follow the dress code.”

“I was coerced into wearing this,” you groan, throwing up your hands in defeat. “It wasn’t my idea.”

“Well, you look beautiful.”

“Thanks.”

Snorting at your half-hearted thank-you, Jeonghan offers a hand and you take it, comforted by his presence as he introduces you to the other guests. Not one to socialize much at these types of meet-and-greets between the elites, you plaster on the politest smile you can muster and let Jeonghan do all the talking.  Occasionally you hear your name mentioned and chime in a word or two, but anyone can see your mind wandering if they look closely, costing you your first mistake of the night when your fingers lose their grip on the half-empty champagne glass. The spilled liquid leaves a stain on your shoes, déjà vu eliciting a thin smile at the memory of walking home barefoot while holding a pair of smelly, vomit-clad heels.

“You okay?”

“Sorry, I…” You smile apologetically. “Where’s the bathroom?”

“Go that way and then take another left at the corner.”

Apologizing again, you pick up your dress and quickly walk towards the left. Curiosity drips from the onlookers of the red dress flapping about, but luckily no one stops you on your way to the bathroom.

No one except…

“You’re here.”

Your brain comes up empty while trying to think of an excuse to get away from Seungcheol, and he offers an enthusiastic grin at seeing you at the party.

“Did you arrive with Jeonghan?”

“He sent his driver,” you answer, shuffling your feet anxiously. The sign to the ladies’ room is practically two leaps away. “Saw him just a few minutes ago actually.”

“I see.”

Before he can continue, you rush past him and nearly collapse onto the tiled floor once you enter the bathroom—sinks empty and stall doors open. Slamming your hands on one of the sink counters, you take a deep breath and catch sight of your winded reflection in the overhead mirror.  

“I look like shit.”

Checking to confirm the stalls are void of others, you give yourself a quick pep talk and take more deep breaths, steadily calming down before fixing your makeup. Another glance at the mirror, and you’re surprised to find Seungcheol still standing where you had left him once you leave the bathroom.

“You’re still here.”

He looks up from his phone, shoulders relaxing before tucking away the device.

“Wanted to see if you were okay when you practically sprinted in there.”

“I’m okay,” you hum, brushing off imaginary dust from your arms. “Just needed some air.”

Nodding, Seungcheol then extends an arm for you to hold.

“May I have this dance?”

You pause. Instinct tells you to pull back, but the earnest look in his eyes is too strong to resist. Slowly, you take his arm and the smile on his face practically lights up the entire room despite the dimmed glow of the ballroom fixtures. Dimmed lights, slowed music for a waltz, the ambiance almost rivals Cinderella’s first dance at the prince’s ball.

But you aren’t Cinderella, and you break away before the magic can end at midnight.

“I’m sorry,” you murmur, shaking your head. “I—”

“Is it because of my ex?” Reaching into his back pocket, Seungcheol takes out his phone and taps on the screen, pulling up a text thread for you to see.

“I was just telling her I finally found someone I want to be with,” he continues, “She wished me good luck right before I asked you to dance.”

“Why me?” you sniffle, holding back the brimming tears in your eyes. “I’m… I’m just another escort.”

“You’ve always been honest with me. That’s more than what all the other girls could ever offer when I’m just another bank for them to extract money from.

“And you even showed me McDonald’s,” he adds with a hearty chuckle, “It was the first time someone has ever treated me to such a delicious meal.”

“Seungcheol, that’s—”

“I love you,” His voice drops to a whisper. “I love you for just being you.”

—

The heart knows what it wants. People can get muddled by what they see and what they hear, but the heart ultimately knows what it wants. And in trying to convince yourself otherwise, you had somehow gotten hold of Seungcheol’s heart before you knew you even wanted it.

“Can you please go see him?”

“I can’t.” You bury your face in your hands. “I don’t want to know how he thinks of me after I walked out on him like that.”

Hana rolls her eyes, not understanding your self-induced predicament. “The guy literally told you he loves you.”

“So? He’s someone who can have whatever he wants with a snap of his fingers when I’m just a—”

“Don’t you start calling yourself a nobody when you’re not.”

The remainder of your sentence falls short. Just like her to know exactly what you wanted to say.

“Enough about him, then,” she sighs, taking your hands and swinging them ever so slightly. “Are you certain you want to terminate your contract with the agency?”

“I really can’t do this anymore.” The risk of running into Seungcheol when you were contractually bound to serve others like him is too much for your mental health to withstand. Even though he was totally the type to fill your schedule exclusively for his company so others couldn’t book you, your conscience couldn’t live with the notion of him throwing even more money your way when you technically left him hanging after he confessed his love for you. “I’ll figure something out if things don’t go through, but I really need you to start budgeting and saving for the end of the month to pay for rent.”

“Okay, Mom, I won’t buy new clothes or bags when you have extras in your closet for me to borrow.”

Rolling your eyes, you shake out of her hold and take the lead in heading inside the building that housed your escort agency. To your surprise, the usually empty lobby is filled with boxes and lines of people filing in and out.

“What’s going on?” comes the curious question from behind you. “Looks like a shitstorm in here.”

“I don’t know,” you whisper, not knowing where to look at the elevator doors that continue to open and close with movers coming down with furniture and other fixtures to move out. “It seems like the entire place is shutting down.”

“Does that mean the agency is also…”

The two of you exchange a glance and make way towards the elevators, squeezing through the movers to find an elevator heading up rather than down. Once the doors open at the fifth floor, you follow her out and don't know what to make of the now vacant space that used to be the escort agency.

“What on Earth…”

Stripped bare of furniture and other knickknacks such as the familiar plants and backboard listing each escort’s daily scheduled “meetings”, the place reminds you of a freshly renovated office space ready to be leased out for a new term.

“Are we jobless?”

You don’t know how to answer the question, still processing the sight of the vacant agency when low murmuring catches your attention. From down the hallway, you spot none other than Jeonghan and the conniving witch who had conned you into signing the escort contract in the first place walking your direction. Hana puts up her middle finger on sight, but lowers her hand when you usher for her to step out before things get ugly.

“Aren’t you meeting with that one guy today? What’s his name, again, Jun?”

“I can just cancel. He’s kind of too quiet for my taste.”

“It’s not right to bail when he already paid upfront,” you convince her, “I’ll ask Jeonghan what’s going on and update you in the evening.”

“But—”

“I know you’ve been eyeing one of my Celine bags; have this Jun take you on a shopping spree to get you one.”

Already knowing she’s sold on the idea of using her date as today’s ATM machine, you shoo her away and watch from behind a corner once Jeonghan and your “former boss” stop by the front entrance. Picking up hints of an alleged “takeover” and “waste of money”, you hold your tongue until Jeonghan is alone, debating whether to reveal yourself from your hiding place when he places a hand over his mouth and coughs knowingly.

“I saw you from a mile away, sweetheart.”

You stand from your crouched position, wincing at the slight numbness in your legs.

“What’s going on? It’s completely empty here.”

He smiles, tilting his head back at the sight of the empty space.

“I bought the place!”

“You what?”

“Technically, my name was used to buy out the agency,” Jeonghan clarifies, chuckling at the absurdity of cleaning out an entire establishment with his money. “It was a completely one-sided proposal but I can’t believe it still went through.”

“Who asked you to buy out this place?” You try your best to not cry but the water in your eyes is already pooling along the corners. “I… We… How am I supposed to pay for my living expenses if I’m suddenly out of a job?”

“Sweetheart, it’s not a bad thing—”

“What would you know?” you yell, fed up with the whims of the wealthy. “You don’t know what it’s like to live paycheck by paycheck! You and your friends are silver spoons from the very moment you were born! I am sick and tired of being toyed with like—”

Jeonghan reaches a hand into his blazer and thrusts a business card in front of your face, successfully shutting you up when it drops onto your outstretched hands.

“Here’s the contact for the new owner of the building. Go talk to him if you need someone to yell at because that person is not going to be me.”

—

“Please wait here. Mister Choi will meet with you shortly.”

You nod awkwardly, thanking the receptionist after she sets down the requested cup of coffee. Leaving the coffee untouched, you close your eyes, praying your guess on the identity of this Mister Choi will be proven false when you hear the approaching footsteps. Not daring to look up, you open your eyes and grab the coffee mug, nearly staining your white dress with splashes of mocha from the quick swipe of your arm.

“I can have someone bring in a new dress if you need it.”

“Why did you do that?”

A scraping sound against the tiled floor, and you manage to lift your head up at the figure that takes the empty seat before you.

“Do what?” Seungcheol asks innocently.

It’s irritating, the subtle smirk on his face. The corners of your mouth twitch and he notices, leaning forward with his hands clasped together.

“You know what you did,” you grumble, refusing to entertain his antics. “Mister ‘I just bought out your agency because I have the money to’.”

“For starters,” he begins, knocking a hand on the table. The silver ring sitting on his pinky catches a glimmer from the faint sunlight, eliciting the memories of drinking tequila with him at the bar. “I didn’t buy out the building entirely for you. It was a business decision agreed by my board of directors to expand the hotel chain.

“Secondly, the proposed amount for this building and clearing out its tenants has no relation to you when Jeonghan was willing to pay half as a personal favor.

“And most importantly,” Seungcheol murmurs, voice dropping to almost a whisper. “I couldn’t bear the thought of you seeing other men just to make ends meet, so I did what I had to.”

You sit speechless, not knowing what to say as he gets up, eyes downcast.

“Even if you don’t choose me, I still want you to be happy. Of course, after I calculate the exact amount of compen—”

His eyes widen at the sudden tug on his sleeve, and you get up from your seat, snaking your arms around him before he can slip away.

“Why do you do the things that you do for me?”

He chuckles, turning around with a gaze full of love and adoration. Paired with the hints of the dimples in his grin, you finally realize he’d given his heart to you long before he even knew he had already done so.

“Because I love you and want you to be able to do the things you want to do. You mentioned you initially wanted to be a model, so I’m planning on turning this building into a modeling agency for you to pursue that dream.”

“Choi Seungcheol, you—”

He shakes his head, pleased that you hadn’t reprimanded him. “My board approved the acquisition, but ultimately I make the final call on how to repurpose the building.”

“I hate this,” you mutter, “I hate you for doing all this for someone like me.”

“You hate me?” he echoes. “Should I make a call to resell the building, then?”

Unsure if he’s joking or serious, you hit him lightly and he takes it with a warm laugh, a sound that tugs fondly at your heartstrings.

“I love you.”

—

“So when’s the wedding?”

You nearly choke on your drink and your best friend/roommate snorts, not understanding your reaction to her question.

“You and Choi Seungcheol have been dating for almost a whole year now. Men like him are bound to have butterflies fluttering around trying to get some of that good stuff.”

So much has happened since the events prior, from the initial meeting over a soiled pair of heels to avoiding him like the plague when you found out he loved you and even bought out your contract from the escort agency for you to be free from their shackles. Not one to take anything for granted, you made it clear to him from the beginning that it was never about the money, but he liked to think of it as an additional way for him to show how much he loved and wanted to take care of you in the blossoming relationship.

“You really should put a ring on it so people know he’s yours.”

“Hana, don’t you think it should be the other way around?” you refute, scowling at her assumption at marriage being a surefire happening. “I mean, Jeonghan still claims I have every right to choose someone else until I’m officially not single anymore.”

“Please, your Seungcheol will be out for blood if Jeonghan tries anything funny.”

You snuff out the cough growing in your throat, fully aware of Seungcheol’s slight possessive streak.

“Yeah, I suppose.”

The gloating look on her face says it all, but you take a pause on forming a rebuttal when you feel the vibration of your phone against the nightstand. Sensing you wanted privacy, she closes the bedroom door behind her when she exits and you pick up to a breathless sounding Seungcheol on the other line.

“Are you running?”

“C-Can you meet me now?” he pants, sharp intakes of breath in between each word. “I… I got something… something important to give you.”

“Where?”

“I’m actually—”

The line cuts off before he finishes his sentence.

“Seungcheol?”

No response, and you rush out of your apartment, frantically pushing the button on the elevator that eventually takes you all the way down to the main lobby. He never broke off midway through a phone call, what if—

“Hey.”

You bite back a retort, balling your hands into fists and run at full speed, punching Seungcheol square on his chest when you spot him standing by the bus stop at the corner of the block from your apartment building.

“You idiot! I thought something happened to you over the phone!”

He frowns, not understanding your panic until he offers the cracked phone in his hand towards you.

“I dropped my phone mid-conversation on the ground and the screen cracked. Is this what you’re referring to?”

“Unbelievable.” You pull away, but he grabs your hand just as you fall out of reach.

“Cute,” he smiles, his other hand taking out a small box from the pocket of his white jacket. “Here’s a gift for being so worried about me.”

“You called me out just to give me a gift?”

The raised eyebrow does little to erase the growing pout on his face, and you roll your eyes before taking his gift, revealing a stunning flower-shaped diamond ring sitting within the cushioned jewelry box.

“W-What is this?”

“I’m sorry for not being more formal,” he apologizes, “I had my driver bring me directly to the jeweler when they called and said the ring I wanted was ready for pickup.” Gesturing to his casual white zip-up jacket, blue tee, and matching white pants that completed his rushed morning look, Seungcheol smiles awkwardly and gets down on one knee, catching you completely by surprise.

“I don’t look like a man about to propose, but I really hope you’ll say yes?”

“Choi Seungcheol, this is the most comfortable outfit I’ve seen you in since we started dating,” you laugh, easing the ring out of its box and placing it onto your finger. “I’m not going to say no when you came to me dressed down like this.”

The beaming grin on his face says it all, and you give him a peck on the cheek once he stands up.

“I’ll need to check with my assistant, but if it works for you, we can hold the wedding sometime in… September? Of course, feel free to tell me what ideas you have and I can make it happen. We can book an entire—”

You put a finger over his mouth to stop him from rambling, excitement practically dancing from every inch of his being at the thought of planning the perfect wedding.

“I’m perfectly happy with a simple vacation wedding plus honeymoon.”

“That’s it?” The disappointment in his voice couldn’t be more clear. “Just a vacation?”

“Mhm. Just a simple around-the-world trip will do.

“In fact, why don’t we go right now?”

“Now?” he echoes, “I still haven’t found contractors to revamp the building I bought for you.”

“That can wait,” you groan, checking the sign by the bus stop that announced three minutes before the next bus arrives. “I’m not in a rush to start work when I get to spend the rest of my life with you.”

“Yes, but—”

“No buts!” The bus rolls closer and closer until it is only one red light away. “You can make your calls to arrange for passports and everything else on the way to the airport, but let’s go before we miss this bus!”

Waving down the bus driver with a furious wave, you take note of the secure fingers wrapped around your right hand. A comforting yet trusting touch, you know Seungcheol is equally on board with the idea despite the initial hesitation at the abrupt proposition to leave everything behind in his hectic corporate world. Rash and borderline irresponsible when he oversees so much in his business on the daily and has an entire pyramid of people dependent on him to make executive decisions, there’s little to change his mind when he’s finally able to go along with what he would like to do for once in his life.

“You know I’ll go wherever you go.”

[matan4il]

Daily update post:

The IDF reported using a trap successfully against Hamas terrorists in Gaza, luring dozens of them into a building, which was known as a Hamas command center, and which was then hit. At the same time, terrorists have the option to stay alive, if they surrender. The IDF said in the past week, it has arrested and taken to Israel for investigation over 200 surrendered Hamas terrorists.

One of the arrested terrorists described how Hamas uses kids as human shields when transporting explosives.

I'm never going to stop saying this: the people who truly care about Palestinian kids should VERY MUCH care that this is how they're being used by Palestinian terrorist organizations. Using kids as terrorists is a war crime. Using kids as human shields is a war crime. If these war crimes perpetrated against Palestinian kids don't bother someone, they're not truly pro-Palestinian, they're just anti-Israel.

I mentioned in my daily update post yesterday, that the IDF can now point out the exact networks of tunnels that allowed them to transform an entire residential neighborhood, into a fighting zone. Today, the IDF shared a 3D model demonstrating the findings on the ground, in a visually clearer way, you can find it at this tweet.

If you've been following the news or my daily update posts, then you know that the Yemenite terrorist organization, funded by Iran, started by attacking "Israeli ships" (some of which had no connection to Israel), then laid a blockade to the entire Red Sea for all ships (claiming they're being attacked for sailing to Israel, even though ships headed for Egypt also sailed through this sea), prompting an international coalition of now over 20 countries, and led by the US. Today, a Liberian ship "with a connection to Israel" experienced a drones attack not too far from India. The attack caused a fire, but no person was harmed, and the Indian fleet responded to it. An Iranian official then announced that, "If the Israeli and American aggression will continue, they can expect the closure of even more maritime routes to take place."

The same Iran, which funds an international network of Islamist terrorism (Hamas, Hezbollah and the Houthis), and which is currently threatening the global economy, not to mention is responsible for every person dead due to the war started thanks to its funding, is holding an international summit today "to help Palestine" (as if there wouldn't have been way more Palestinians alive right now, if it weren't for Iran), and people from no less than 50 countries are participating. Iran should be a pariah internationally, but it's not. That should scare all of us.

The International Red Cross has been repeatedly criticized since the beginning of the war in Gaza, for practically doing nothing for the Israeli hostages, and for having covered up for Hamas' abuse of medical facilities in Gaza. Now, the IRC is proving how seriously it takes this criticism... by appointing as its next director general a controversial senior from UNRWA, the UN agency that helps exclusively the Palestinian refugees. Beyond the clear bias that he would bring to the position, he also is a disputed figure, who had to resign from his UNRWA position, following accusations of ethical abuses there.

I keep mentioning the many fronts on which Israel is being attacked. On our northern border, Hezbollah continues to fire at and destroy Jewish towns, and the only reason you don't hear more about it, is because most civilians have been evacuated, well over 100,000 people. But civilians have been killed there, and the soldiers who are there to protect the border, have been killed as well. Yesterday, a Hezbollah rocket killed 19 years old Amit Hod Ziv (on the left below):

And two other Israeli soldiers who were killed in Gaza yesterday are 31 years old Tal Shoa (center), and 21 years old Shay Ayali (right), who was a cadet in the officers course. They both served in unit 669, the IDF's search and rescue elite unit, which has operated in many countries around the world to save people when natural disasters strike. Unit 669 soldiers during the war risk their lives, when they go into the worst war zones, to get wounded soldiers out, give them emergency first aid, and get them to a hospital as soon as possible. Unit 669 soldiers do the same for surrendered wounded terrorists.

So far, 140 soldiers have been killed in the fighting in Gaza. In total, from Oct 7 on, 472 Israeli soldiers have been killed, including girls without combat training, who were slaughtered in their pyjamas.

This is 36 years old Lior Atias, and her 6 years old daughter Alma.

Lior was a veterinary nurse, and a volunteer for Elem, an NGO that helps youth at risk. She was at the Nova music festival as part of her volunteer work, together with a whole team from Elem. Lior is one of three Elem volunteers, who were among the 367 Israelis massacred by Hamas there.

May all their memories be a blessing.

(for all of my updates and ask replies regarding Israel, click here)