DivineVision7

10/29/2026

Content day planning has started looking for models to shoot with serious models only DM me to inquire about shooting let’s work on creating some dope content

10/26/2026

Gotta love the work

10/26/2026

9 supply shoot

“From 42nd Street to the world 🌍✨
This ain’t just a jersey, it’s a statement — style that plays offense and defense. 🏈🗽
Game day or every day, the city always sets the tone.”

10/26/2026

10/21/2026

Worlds Apart Tied Together
By Flackaveli
The online Book 📕

Introduction

Marley has been called too soft, too available, too willing to believe in people who have already given him reasons not to. A hopeless romantic with a ’90s R&B heart, he wants a wife, a family, and a home he looks forward to coming back to. Life in Philadelphia has given him bills, betrayals, and friends who treat his tenderness like a flaw they need to fix. Still, he refuses to become a man he would not respect just to avoid getting hurt.

In Charlotte, Laura has built a life that leaves little room for anyone to see her struggle. Beautiful, intelligent, and relentlessly hardworking, she is the person everyone calls when something goes wrong. She craves the kind of care she gives so freely, but experience has taught her to question what kindness might cost her later.

When Marley comes across her online, a simple message becomes a conversation neither wants to end. Their connection grows through late calls, difficult conversations, and visits that always feel too short. He learns that patience means more than waiting for her to trust him. She learns that being loved does not have to mean surrendering the life she worked so hard to protect.

Laura also sees something in Marley that he has spent years putting off. With her encouragement, he starts a marketing business, and what begins as a risk taken between bills becomes a success beyond anything he imagined.

For the first time, the future they talk about feels within reach.

But success changes more than their circumstances. Friends who once had unlimited access to their time, money, and loyalty begin to resent the boundaries around their new life. Old favors become debts in other people’s mouths. Private conversations turn into quiet calculations about what Marley and Laura have, where they keep it, and how much they might pay to keep each other alive.

By the time those resentments become a plan to kidnap and rob them, the people behind it already know their routines.

Marley has finally found a woman he can imagine growing old beside.

Laura has finally begun to believe she is safe.

Neither knows how much **danger** they have already let through the door.

10/16/2026

The Man Who Loved Love pt One
By Flackaveli

He had always been in love with love
not only its first bright rush,
but the ordinary miracle of being known.
A wife beside him at the end of a long day.
Children calling from another room.
A hand reaching for his in the dark
without needing to be asked.

He feared dying before that life found him.
Feared a quiet room, a name spoken less and less,
and no one who would feel his absence
as a change in the shape of the world.
It was not that he needed a crowd to mourn him.
He wanted one person who would know
which cup had been his
and find it hard, for a while, to put away.

So he tried to be a good man.
He kept his word. He meant what he said.
When he loved someone, he wanted to do right by her
to listen when the truth was difficult,
to stay when staying asked something of him,
to build a life sturdy enough for two.

But he learned that goodness could not make another heart ready.
Genuine intentions did not always come through
as clearly as he felt them.
Sometimes his care arrived at the wrong moment;
sometimes it was met with doubt.
And when he offered what was honest in him
and still could not be trusted,
something in him began to tire.

He did not want a love that asked him
to prove himself every morning
against a fear he had not caused.
He wanted to feel safe, too.
To tell the truth without bracing for punishment.
To know that loyalty meant more than staying close
when everything was easy.

Still, he did not put love down.
He carried the hope of it more carefully now,
knowing how much it weighed.
Some nights he pictured the wife, the children, the warm house,
and wondered whether he had imagined a life
that would never be his.

In the morning, he made his coffee for one.
He opened the curtains.
He went on being the man he hoped someone might love
not because goodness guaranteed him anything,
but because he could not bear to lose himself
while waiting to be found.

10/14/2026

A little lace, a lot of **confidence**. ✨

10/07/2026

Sorry I couldn’t hear you the work was talking

09/29/2026

The art of fashion is a gift How you wear it is the talent

09/28/2026

Same Sky, Different Nights
By Flackaveli

They say the world gets smaller
every time a plane takes flight,
but I have watched your name light up my phone
and felt a thousand miles get wide.

You send a picture of your morning.
I’m still making peace with night.
You say the sun is on your window.
I say the moon is on mine.

We’ve learned to love in borrowed minutes,
in “Can you hear me?” and “Stay awake.”
I know the sound your tired voice makes
when you’ve had more than you can take.

Some nights the screen becomes a doorway.
Some nights it’s only glass.
I press my hand against the distance
and wait for this hour to pass.

I want the parts a call can’t carry:
your coat across a chair,
the way you’d reach for me half asleep
and find that I was there.

I want to take the long way home with you
and have nowhere else to be.
To stop beneath a streetlight
because you’ve started telling me
a story you forgot to finish
the last time we had time.
To kiss you in the middle of it
and hear you lose your place, then smile.

Instead, I learn your city by its weather.
You learn mine by what I wear.
We make plans around departures
and try not to live there.

I know your flight number by heart.
I know the gate will change.
I know I’ll look for you in every face
until you say my name.

And I will hold you for a moment
like the miles were never real,
then spend the ride back asking
if your hands are cold, if you’ve eaten,
if this is how you thought it’d feel.

I don’t need a room above the skyline.
I don’t need a sea of gold.
I want the ordinary evenings
we’ve been saving up to hold.

Your shoes beside my doorway.
Your laughter down the hall.
A morning when you’re running late
and leave your keys where you’ll forget them.
A life where I can call you
and hear your phone ring from the next room.

Until then, I’ll keep the light on
when your city goes to sleep.
Tell me how your day was.
Tell me what you didn’t tell anyone.

There’s no clever way to close the distance.
I still miss you when we speak.
But when the line goes quiet,
I let it stay that way a little longer.

You breathe.
I breathe.
For a minute,
we are under the same sky
at the same time.