#Picture Perfect 📷

[lifewiththelulus]

[vampyricclaws]

Bellow the cut is a pinned post for one of our sideblogs.

… Catrina! Also known as Kitty, Catra or Rina.

my old blog was @murruspins , but I decided to start using my real name on here. plus, a lot of info about me on that blog is outdated and no longer how I identify …

I use they/it/xe, but I am completely gender apathetic and don’t care about terms. I do present feminine though. I am intersex and completely nonhuman. A list to my kintypes can be found here, but the main things to note is I’m a feline cladokin and I fully identify with Catra. We are bodily 15.

some interests of mine;; orange is the new black, arcane, true crime (I’m not in tcc), shera, biology, psychology, hermitcraft, HTTYD, warrior cats, monster high, metal bands, etc…

anon list; none atm :( i love to talk! feel free to send asks.

extra info …

I’m the host of a DID system, though i don’t talk about it much. a few of my headmates don’t share the same ideals as me, which is why they don’t post here. they have their own blogs. They may be linked in the future !

jinxie’s blog - @jinxedstims , dead dove do not eat stimblr.

jinxie’s 2nd blog - @punkpotion , her personal blog, ddde.

vi’s blog - @fistfulfury , personal blog, no warnings.

however, alters that do post here are: Catrina, Finn, Elle, Ollie and Violet (with supervision). However, mainly Rina.

I don’t have a strict dni, as long as you don’t harm anyone then you’re good with me (anti c for paraphilias and keep anything problematic you enjoy within fiction and we’re chill). The only dni we have is endogenic systems, I don’t mind your personal view on them and we don’t engage in syscourse, we just don’t wish to interact with them personally.

… tag list:

˖°📷 ༘ picture perfect : main tag / posting tag

˖°🐾 ༘ adventure time : talking about life / story telling

˖°💌 ༘ "you’ve got mail!" : inbox / asks

˖°🧵 ༘ synchronised hissing : lyric posting

˖°🐈 ༘ meowling heights : reblogs

[sxldierselfship]

It's a rainy day here and he's taking a small nap 😴❤️

[starlostastronaut]

to whoever took these photos, i will worship you forever 🙏🏻

Seungmin + SKZ Unlock, recoloured 🍂

[64reprieve]

picture you (e.w.) ˙✧˖°📷 ༘ ⋆｡˚

pairing: butch!college!loser!ellie x femme!camgirl!reader

synopsis: you need promo for your business. ellie’s tuition is due. or ellie’s a college student in her junior year scrambling to get her shit together and desperate to make ends meet with side jobs. you need pictures taken by someone who isn’t a creep from craigslist and won’t kill you. your friend knows just the person.

content: (18+ content), angst, smut, fluff, amateur!photographer!ellie like she really only knows to point and shoot, loser!ellie, college!ellie, recreational use of weed bc ellie needs a vice, other substance use, ellie is intimacy-deprived/abstaining, lesbian yearning, pining, useless lesbians, explicit language, power play dynamic, friends with benefits, self-harm ideation, mentions of agoraphobia, family issues, depression, soft dom!ellie, sub!reader, jealousy, miscommunication, ongoing themes

nsfw, men and minors dni

prologue ➤ chapter one ➤ chapter two ➤ chapter three ➤ chapter four ➤ tbd.

Ellie tossed her skateboard down, watching it roll to the wall with a light thud. She ran her palms down her face, puffing air from her cheeks before falling on the bed.

You were likely straight. These pictures were probably meant for your boyfriend–where were her thoughts heading?

Her arm extended to smack the bedside lamp, filling the space of her nightstand. She closed her eyes in exhaustion, groaning at flooding visions of you; how pliant and perfect you’d been when she moved you into another pose, how your dimples deepened at her poor jokes.

Your frame stamped her inner eyelids with vexation, a multitude of strained curses misfiring as she hooked a finger in the collar of her flannel, tugging it from her neck. 

Her shirt smelled like you.

“Fuck.”

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ new series! a few of the chapters are already in drafts but i’m still in the process of tweaking a few things. chapter one is coming very, very, very soon however. please reblog or comment if you’re interested in being added to the series’ taglist!

thank you!

[hugheshischier4313]

YOU MISS HIM DON'T YOU | Q. HUGHES

𝗣𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 | Quinn Hughes x fem!reader 

𝗪𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 | Emotional cheating (not on Quinn),  angst, fluff, oblivious!reader and Quinn, soft!Quinn, neighbors-to-lovers, reader x OC (Andrew, reader's boyfriend), alcohol, flirting. 

𝗦𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 | Months into your friendship with Quinn the two of you finally admit to what's been there all along. 

 🎧 Playlist | 📷 Pinterest Board

Based on a scene in Season 3 of Desperate Housewives (No spoilers in the writing. Bolded words are quoted from the show): “Don't tell me nothing happened. We’ve been fighting over this all week. You miss him, don't you?”

𝗪/𝗖 | 6.8K

𝗔/𝗡 | hi lovelies, thank you for being patient with me for the full fic of this idea. The lines indicate time jumps, they jump back and forth to different scenarios of reader and Quinn through the time they have spent together. I absolutely love these two and this idea and I couldn't find a perfect ending. I rewrote multiple endings and ultimately decided to just make a part two when I finally figure it out. Hope you enjoy, love ya!

It had been a wonderful night, the wine glass in your hand still full, the bottle sitting on the coffee table. The random episode of Bob's Burgers in the background forgotten, adding nothing more than a soft glow to the room. As you sat there listening to Quinn talk about his summer back in Michigan, you found yourself examining him. The way his eyes roam the room as he speaks, the smiles before he lets out a laugh and the way his hands run through his hair occasionally.

"You should have visited, even for just a weekend. You would have thought this was way more entertaining if you were there." Quinn teased as he finished his story. You pushed down the feeling of guilt as you smiled back at him, poking a finger into his shoulder. "I wouldn't have let you live it down if I had been there. So it's probably for the best," You teased back, but the truth was you had wanted to visit Quinn over the off-season, but when the time came, life had another plan.

_________________________________

"You should come down for the week. The sunrise and sunset alone would make the trip worth it. Imagine spending your week off by the lake, a beautiful sky for you to take pictures of. I can send you a ticket, just say the word." As the smile crept onto your face, so did the slightest tinge of pink. You had been putting away groceries when your AirPods had read the message out loud. Quinn had a habit of making fun of your love for the sky. Always calling you out, shrieking, 'The sky is so pretty' like you had repeatedly done (in a terrible attempt to match your voice). You swear you could hear it through the text despite him being over 2,000 miles apart. 

When Andrew's call came through, you found your phone and typed the text about sending it. "Y/N! I got it, I got the promotion!" His voice came booming out, and the excitement was evident in his voice. "Congratulations, Andrew!" you reciprocated his excitement. "And what better time than before you have a week off. I was thinking of going away for the week, maybe Banff? I'll rent us the cabin we had when we went last time." He kept ranting, too excited to keep anything in, but his voice was drowned out by the thought of Quinn. 

"I have to go, but I'll send you the flight information later tonight. I can't wait to see you." Andrews's voice didn't falter, almost like he was on autopilot, just rambling what he knew to say. They exchanged their quick goodbyes before he hung up. 

As if to taunt you, the next sound into your ear was' NEW MESSAGE FROM QUINN 'Or even just for the weekend if you have other plans for your week off.' As you looked back down at the phone and saw the unset message,  'A whole week of sunset pictures? Count me in Q'; the thought of deleting it weighed heavily on you. 

The truth was you had truly missed Quinn this summer. You had moved to Vancouver for grad school in the fall, and as luck would have it, Quinn lived in the apartment next to you. In the past 10 months, you had known each other; the only time you hadn't seen each other was when he had away games. And even then, when he returned, he made it up to you by devoting time to be with you. He bought you a postcard from all the cities he played in, and you had them displayed on your fridge. He signed all of them after the few glasses of wine you shared after one of his longer roadies.

You had (in your tipsy state) jokingly told him to sign one so you could sell them if he ever decided to be a jerk to you. And as he did, you knew you could never sell them; they meant too much to you. He had made a joke about writing nonsense on them to lower the value if you tried. Over the off-season, you found yourself religiously turning them over to look at his little notes, his penmanship holding inside jokes that you held dear to your heart.

As you stood there staring at the postcards on your fridge, thinking of the brunette, you couldn't help but feel the guilt in your chest. The nagging thought that your friendship with Quinn may not be as platonic as the two of you acted.

Why were you standing there thinking of another man when you were just on the phone with your boyfriend? You hadn't and would never cheat on Andrew, but the world seemed to disappear when you were with Quinn. Time slipped by faster, and you longed to sit on a couch with him again.

And at that moment, it had become apparent that you no longer had a choice; you had to choose between the two men, Andrew or Quinn? But then again, it wasn't really a choice between the men; it was a choice between right and wrong.

'Sorry Quinn, I can't this week. Take lots of pictures for me. Can't wait to see them when you're back.' Send. It was vague, and you knew he could send them to you whenever, but you also knew that, at least for this week, he couldn't be your primary focus. You needed to focus on your partner and his accomplishments.

_________________________________

As you had sat in a surprisingly unpopulated section of the airport for a Friday night, you haphazardly skipped through Instagram stories until you were faced with Quinn's private story of him on the boat with his friends. You had no reason, or right, to be this upset, but as you looked at the sunset on the picture's horizon, you couldn't stop yourself from hitting the call button. 

The phone barely rang once before you heard his voice, and you let out a breath you didn't realize you were holding. "Hey, I was j-" His voice was laced with exhaustion as if whatever physical activity he was doing was still fresh. And you found yourself more clam than you had been in days. Oh, how you had missed his voice.

"Are you upset with me?" The words were rushed and tumbled out before you could comprehend the repercussions. You knew that now was not the time to be having this discussion. You were sitting in the corner seats at the airport, waiting for your plane to begin boarding. But it had been two days since that last message you sent, and you had heard nothing from Quinn.

You had been a little hurt when you spent all of Thursday waiting for a response from the brunette. He had never taken more than a few hours to respond to you, which is why you had given him the benefit of the doubt that Wednesday night after you sent the last message. But now that you had spent the entirety of your workday contemplating writing a new message, you were upset, and the Insta story had only added fuel to the fire.  

"No, of course not. Why?" His voice was genuine and calm, a nice contrast to the loud background on both sides of the phone. You figured he was still on the boat with his friends. "Oh, I just figured you were upset since I haven't heard from you." You felt stupid for calling and continuing to talk despite it being obvious he wasn't alone. "But I'll let you go; sorry for calling." you hit the red button before you had time to overthink. Your voice had become weak, and you hated that you were taking time away from him and the time he had to spend with his friends and family.

You had the overwhelming feeling to cry, but you didn't know if it was because of guilt for Andrew or Quinn or because any doubts you had that Quinn was mad at you had disappeared. NEW MESSAGE FROM QUINN: 'Give me 10 minutes, I'll call you back'. The message held an inevitable dominance over it; there was no question that it was a conversation that had to happen, and it had to happen now. 

_________________________________

Quinn had known about your boyfriend from the very beginning. He had seen you together, bringing boxes to the apartment beside his, and noticed you immediately. He wished he could say it had all been innocent, but the first thing he saw was how your legs looked in the tennis skirt you had been wearing. You bent down to pick up a fallen pillow as he exited his car in the parking garage. His eyes lingered on you, and he forced himself to turn away before you noticed. He swore he would offer to help you before he met eyes with Andrew as he stepped out of the parking garage elevator.

"I didn't mean to; it just happened. You were bent over, in a skirt, right outside my car; it was hard to look away when I didn't expect you to be there." Quinn had a slight pink tone to his features right now, and you were smiling, trying to suppress a laugh. You stood in the kitchen, pouring the margaritas into your cups.

"You mean the skirt I'm wearing right now? Is that why you mentioned it? Quinn, you could have kept that secret forever. I mean, you couldn't waterboard that information out of me." You were always more giggly when drinking, which was contagious to Quinn. "But since you didn't, I'm gonna use this against you for the foreseeable future."  The laugh left you when you got back to Quinn's couch. "I'll try not to make any sudden movements that may catch you off guard," you teased as you stood before him and handed him his drink.

"It's not funny; I've felt bad about this for months." he tried to be serious, but the smile never left his face. As you nodded with a smirk on your lip, you turned from him after he grabbed the glass, "Y/N, I'm serious." He wasn't; he could never stay upset with you, even in a joking manner. 

"I guess I'll just go back to my apartment then; I don't want to bring back any of your past shame." your body once again turned towards him as you leaned down over to hug him, "Bye, Hughes, I'll make sure to only wear this when you're out of town." He let out a sarcastic 'ha.' "You don't have to leave; I can control myself. I promise." he rolled his eyes and slowly got up to stop you.

"I don't know; I think the only logical answer is to wear your Drew sweats." You had pivoted and ran to his room before he could reply. You had bugged him countless times to try them on over the past months; you had just wanted to see if they were worth the hype because the black sweats had been sold out forever (and maybe, subconsciously, because of your past love for Justin Bieber). And every time he said no, you took this as your opportunity to try them and bug him simultaneously.

Being in Quinn's room was familiar to you. You had spent most days at one of the two apartments, and sometimes that meant laying in his bed watching TV after he had just returned from a string of away games or after a challenging game or practice. You had worn his clothes before, too; it was always in a platonic way, the first time you had locked yourself out after being out on a run when it started raining. You lost your key on the run, and the concierge was gone for the night. You had also spent the night; he let you sleep in his bed and took the couch. 

As you ran into the room, you closed the door behind you and walked into the closet, closing that door, too. You had found the sweats and slowly walked out of the closet. There was no sight of Quinn, and the bedroom door was still closed. You walked towards the door, sweats in your hand, as you called out to him, "Q? Are you -" But you were cut off as he tackled you onto the bed next to you.

The two of you lay on the bed laughing before turning to face each other. The laughter died down, and you were smiling and looking at each other. The two of you lay there for a while, not saying anything until you broke the silence, "Your eyes are a different color every time I see you, but today I can see every shade in them." You don't know why you needed to share your observation with him, but it felt right. "You cut your hair." He reached out to tuck a strand behind your ear and play with the end of another. His voice had been so him, soft yet dominant. It was true; you had gotten a slight trim the day before and a few longer layers at the bottom of your hair, a small and simple detail that could have been missed. In fact, he was the only person to notice; none of your classmates or even Andrew, although over Facetime, had noticed. 

The room felt heavy as you looked from his hand in your hair to his eyes again, stopping to look at his lips for a second. And when you reached his gaze, it was unreadable. "I -" A phone began to ring as Quinn was about to speak. You could see a shift in his demeanour as you continued to look at him. He got up to find the cause of the sound. "It's your phone." He walked it over to you before heading out to the living room again. The phone illuminated ANDREW CALLING.

You looked towards the empty doorway as you brought the phone up to your ear. "Hey you," your playful voice sounded forced, and the smile on your lips was even more so. "Hey, I have a surprise for you. The notification said it was in the lobby." This shocked you, not only because it was a surprise but because Andrew was never one for small gestures. It was always something big like him ordering 4 dozen roses to your desk after your fourth date. But he had never just sent you or given you something randomly.

Andrew could be a sweet guy; you worked together before he asked you to have dinner with him. You knew you were moving and had no intention of starting anything serious before moving to Vancouver, but he had been so persistent, and it felt nice to have a distraction with all the craziness of moving. But living in different provinces has brought no comfort to either of you. It felt like pen pals most of the time. You would call him a few times a week and talk for an hour before he had to go. There had been a few times where you could have sworn you heard someone else there, but the times you mentioned it, it felt like the fight had been more trouble than the issue itself.

And maybe subconsciously, you felt like a hypocrite. Your relationship with Quinn was platonic, but the number of times you were confused as a couple in public could be seen another way. In fact, you hated to admit it, but it felt like you communicated more with Quinn when he was away than with your boyfriend. 

"There's something for me in the lobby of my apartment complex? Andrew, what did you do? It's 7pm?" As you started talking, Quinn walked into view, bringing your drinks and extending to you. "It's a surprise; you should go get it now; I'm assuming it's just on the concierge desk based on the picture." You stared up at Quinn as you listened to Andrew, "Okay, I'll be down in a minute, and I'll call you back once I have it." The phone call was quickly over. 

"What did you order?" Quinn asked with a smile, used to all the packages you've received. A few that had been too heavy for you to carry on your own that Quinn had taken himself. Even when they hadn't been too heavy, he would carry them for you if he was there. "I'm not sure, Andrew sent it to me." You could have sworn there was a look on his face that was gone as quickly as it appeared. "You want me to go with you in case you need help?" there was no hesitation in your quick reply of 'yes.'

As the two of you walked down the hall, you were overly aware of the distance between you. It was no different than it had been in the past, but there was a particular charge. The words shared and unshared in the bedroom hung heavy. "So I never got to even put the sweats on," you joked while waiting in front of the elevator. "You can borrow them when we get back up if you want," his answer made your breath hitch. He had never let you try them on, much less borrow them.

He looked at you, letting you walk into the elevator first. The ride down was quick and quiet, but how you looked at each other made everything race faster. Your heartbeat quickened as you saw his slight deviation towards your lips before making their way back up. "Quinn," your voice came out as a low plea; whether it was to continue or to stop was uncertain. He stepped closer to you as the two of you stood in silence for a brief moment before the doors opened. As you stepped out, your heart felt heavy.

As you made your way towards the front desk, you saw the back of a man at the desk, but when you heard the voice,  it made you freeze. Andrew he was in your lobby waiting for you, Quinn failed to notice your pause and ran into you. However, before you could tip forward, Quinn had steadied you with a hand on your arm and waist. Andrew called out when he turned around. 

"Andrew! What are you doing here?" You didn't miss the look he gave the sight of the two of you or how his gaze only lingered on Quinn's hand on your waist as he walked closer. You unhooked yourself from Quinn to hug Andrew. The hug was stiff; he held himself higher, and his head hadn't moved from the position it had been in before. You figured he was still looking at Quinn. 

"I wanted to surprise you; we settled a case earlier than expected, so I took a few days off." You had pulled yourself to his side, a view of both him and Quinn. They kept looking towards each other, completely ignoring you. "Well, Andrew, this is my friend I always tell you about, Quinn. He introduced himself the day I moved in, remember? He lives next door to me." Andrew smiled down at you as you continued. "Quinn, you remember Andrew." Quinn looked from you to Andrew before extending his hand. "Good to see you again, man." Andrew hesitated before shaking his hand. 

There was a quick silence before Quinn grabbed his phone from his pocket and looked at the screen, excusing himself, "I have to make a phone call; I'll see you around," but before he could walk off, you gave him a side hug goodbye. You had done it a thousand times before, and feeling like you couldn't because Andrew was there didn't feel like a good sign, so you did it anyway. "I'll text you," you quietly said as you let go.

The next few days had been uneventful, showing Andrew around Vancouver. The hallway had felt unusually empty each time you passed, hoping to run into Quinn. A string of away games was starting that Monday, and when you came back from dropping off Andrew at the airport on Sunday night, you noticed the bag sitting in front of your apartment door. 

The black sweats were inside with a note, 'I'll pick them up when I'm back. Enjoy :). ~ Q" He never asked for them back

_________________________________

"Hey," his voice was clear despite the pixilated quality of his Facetime call. He was wearing a white T-shirt, his hair was wet, and he had a look on his face you had never seen. "Hey Q," your pulse felt overwhelming as if anyone who looked at you could see it throbbing against your neck. "Are you having a good time back home?" It was a buffer; you didn't know what Quinn wanted to say, and judging by the look on his face, you weren't sure you wanted to.

"Andrew called me." His voice was blunt, direct to the point, despite the few seconds he stared at you, hesitating to continue. "He asked if I was sleeping with you." His eyes held yours while the rest of his face had no expression. "What?" The nervous laughter that filled the air around you was nothing more than a way to suppress the hurt and anger of this new confession.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry Quinn. I don't know why he's been so paranoid lately. It seems like he misinterprets everything I mention to him as something else." For the last two months, you had known that Andrew suspected your friendship with Quinn was something more. He had brought it up the last time he was in Vancouver and again over the phone a few weeks ago (although it had been in retaliation to the question you had asked him about the girl with him in a video his friend had posted on their story). 

"Did he misinterpret it, or did he just see what is obvious that you and I can't admit?" The question was loaded with truths that weren't meant to come out. The look that the two of you shared through the screen had only confirmed it. In a split second, months of ignorance had led to a confession when the two of you were thousands of miles apart.

His breathing was heavy; you could hear it through the phone; he had a look on his face that closely resembled his look when his team lost in the Playoffs. It was the look you saw in the mirror this morning when you had not heard from him. It was the split-second look he had in the lobby the day Andrew surprised you.

Everything playing in your head; all the nights he would knock at your apartment after a game with a box of food, the way you would pack him an 'after-game snack' consisting of oranges, a granola bar and a fruit snack (which he teased you about until you mentioned it was like they did in little leagues), the way your breath hitches every time he gets shoved or falls. 

All the times, the two of you had gone for a drive when life felt too heavy, and you shared secrets you had never told anyone before. The way he took off your makeup when you had gone out one night or how he knows your coffee order for every cafe you go to. Quinn and you had been in the in-between since you first hung out. 

"I mean, how long are we going to pretend like nothing is happening?" His voice was calm and demanding, with a hint of subdued anger or annoyance you hadn't picked up. "Quinn, I -" You were at a loss for words; nothing could genuinely capture how Quinn had made you feel. 

You knew you were safe with Quinn around, not only in a physical sense but emotionally. The way he made you feel heard and seen. The two of you were floating in two separate worlds, but the weight that engulfed you was the same. You understood the complication of pressure and leadership; you understood needing to be the most prominent presence in the room, even if you weren't the loudest. You understood the pressure of wanting, no needing, to be the best for everyone else even if it tore you apart. 

It was all those things and more that drove you together, the ability to soothe the ache the buildup of burden had left sacred on the two of you. When you felt a crushing weight on you, the only thing that could alleviate it was being around the man who had quickly become your best friend. Immediately, he knew whether you needed to just sit and cry while he comforted you or go for a drive so you could yell out lyrics or if you needed him to just talk about mundane things.

And you do the same; you knew by the way he left the ice, by the way, he knocked on the door, by the way, he walked down the hallway toward your apartments. You knew when to go over to him so he could catch the recaps, and you knew when to invite him to yours to force him to ignore the criticism. You knew that even after a winning streak or after a goal, he needed comfort, understanding the overwhelming feeling of the slightest reprieve until the next game.

And the honest truth was that you had pushed back any romantic feelings because you knew without a doubt he was your person. You had never been one for friendship with men, and when your friends asked about what you could have in common with a professional hockey player, you never knew what to tell them. Because from every book, movie, series and scenario you knew, as cliche as it was, the only quote that could describe what the two of you shared was, 'Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same.' 

"Y/N, please." His voice was barely above a whisper, a plea to say anything. "It doesn't have to change anything. I just need to know; I didn't mean to hurt you; I tried to give you space. I've tried to respect your relationship." He had been ignoring you to avoid hurting your relationship, and in the process, the two of you were the only ones who were hurt. "Quinn." There was only one way you could describe it: "You consume me." Despite the tears that fell, you stared at him through the phone, wishing he was there with you, wishing your plane was going to Michigan. 

"Now boarding flight-" The announcement couldn't have come at a worse time; there was so much to say, and an airport right before boarding was not ideal. "That's my flight." You wiped your tears as you stared at the man on the screen. "Y/N, I'm sorry for bringing this up now; it's not my best moment." he was trying to cheer you up; he wanted you to know that everything would be okay. "Quinn, I don't know what to do," your voice was a quiet plea to understand what was to come.

"Given everything that was said and that we're in two different countries right now, I think we should take some time to digest. I know you're spending time with him, and I don't want you to feel overwhelmed. I think we should take the next week or two." your heart was breaking, but your mind knew that was the best option. And for the first time since the beginning of the conversation, you thought of Andrew, and the slight tinge of annoyance arose again. 

Quinn must have noticed because he was quick to interject his following comment with the most sincere look, "But before you go, I just need you to know that you consume me too." He had his signature half smile as he continued, "You are the most amazing woman I have ever met. I think about you constantly. I think about you when I look at the sky, when I'm practicing with my brothers, when I go out with friends and when I lie in bed. I watch for you in the crowd during warm-ups. You've become one of my favourite people so quickly, and I'm so glad of all the apartments in the city, or even just in the building; you moved into the one next to mine." 

You smiled as the tears fell; if there had ever been any doubt, you now knew for sure that Quinn was your person. "I'll be forever grateful that the universe brought me to you too." And with a quick goodbye and promise to reach out in two weeks, you were in your seat on the plane. 

Your mind racing with thoughts of Quinn and the revelations that had come to light and then again to Andrew. You didn't know why, but your annoyance was morphing into slight anger, the idea that he had called Quinn and accused him of sleeping with you. What annoyed you more was that he had done that and hadn't mentioned it to you. He hadn't mentioned the idea of your friendship with Quinn being something more since that one phone call a little over a month ago. 

You sat with that feeling for the rest of the flight. 

_________________________________

"Okay, fine, you are mad at me! But name one thing that I have done to deserve it!" Andrew was standing on the opposite side of the room. His breathing was heavy as he ran a hand through his hair. "You called Quinn." your voice was laced with a hint of sadness and betrayal. The statement was simple and direct but held a meaning that both of you knew would change everything. 

The argument had started with something so small: the two of you walking on eggshells the past few days and your passive-aggressive comments when he mentioned anything related to Vancouver. Over the past few days, you had tried to get Andrew to admit to calling Quinn; he wasn't stupid; he had connected the dots and was simply choosing to ignore it (which infuriated you even more). The days dragged on; waking up and getting ready in silence, spending the day exploring, trying to avoid long conversations at all costs, getting ready for bed with few words and getting into bed facing away from each other. 

Andrew's response had taken a second longer than it should have. His hesitation made it clear that he was surprised by the direct approach, almost as if he hadn't thought you would say anything.  "You're damn right I did, I've seen the messages, the glances, the pictures. What was I supposed to do? Pretend that nothing was going on?" His voice was slightly louder as his eyes narrowed on you. 

"Nothing was going on. He never touched me." you raised your voice, but the words weakened. Your hands were flailing around, trying to emphasize your point.  The tears behind your eyes aching to be let free. It was too much, and you knew the implications of your words. This time, however, Andrew didn't hesitate to answer; his reply, even louder than before, came out the second you were done talking. "And I wasn't gonna sit around and wait until he did."  

The two of you stood there staring at each other, chests heaving, eyes full of emotion. You sat on the counter stool beside you before looking away from Andrew and placing your head in your hands, elbows propped on the counter. You heard his footsteps getting closer, and soon, Andrew was pulling out the stool next to you. 

You glanced at him from your peripheral view; he was staring at the kitchen in front of him, a look of contemplation on his face. "Do you have feelings for him, Y/N?" you diverted your eyes back to the counter. The question caught you off guard, "Hmm?" you could feel his eyes on you again, but you couldn't gain the strength to look up. "Do you have feelings for Quinn?" Each word was emphasized by the slight pause he took between them. 

Although you couldn't meet his eyes, you mustered enough courage to look up from your hands towards the kitchen. "I would never cheat on you, you know that." you shook your head as you said it, knowing it wasn't the answer he sought. "That's not what I asked." you wanted to look at him, to tell him he was all you wanted, that there was nothing between you and Quinn, but that wasn't the truth, and all you could do was continue the slight head shake you had started. 

Andrew didn't say anything for a bit, but you could hear the sound of his movement as he repositioned himself on the stool and leaned closer to you. "Did you fall for him?" His voice was softer and more quiet, slightly above a whisper. You tried to speak, but the tears beat you. As the tears left your eyes, you looked towards Andrew. His eyes were glued on the fridge, his expression hurt, and his eyes held a slight gloss. "Oh god," he was avoiding eye contact with you now. 

You stared at him a moment longer, trying to calm down, "Nothing happened." your voice was shakier than it had been all night, and the tone held no conviction. He turned his head slightly, the two of you locking eyes. "Don't tell me nothing happened. We've been fighting over this all week." He turned away before he even finished his sentence. Your tears continued, "You miss him, don't you?" The look on his face had hardened, but his voice remained the same. He knew the answer; it had been evident every time he called you, and you were alone or when he would try to call, only to be met with a text saying you were on the phone but would call him back. 

You kept your eyes on him; the guilt weighed heavy on you. The implication of every choice you had made since the first interaction with Quinn ran through your mind. You couldn't put your thoughts into words or rationalize your feelings. "I'm sorry." It wasn't even a valid answer, but it was all you could think of. Your emotions were running too high, and you needed a breather. He leaned back on the stool and let out a breath, but a few tears trickled down as he did. "Damn" His voice was barely audible; if you hadn't been looking at him or if the room hadn't been so quiet, you would have missed it. 

_________________________________

It hadn't been your intention to end things with Andrew that way. Despite all the issues the two of you shared, you didn't want to hurt him. When you talked everything through the following morning you both knew the relationship had been over longer than either of you cared to admit.  It had been as civil as a breakup could be, and the guilt that had once overwhelmed you started to blur.

As you looked out the plane window and saw Vancouver, you felt the missing pieces of you start to come together. It was strange how life finds a way to bring you exactly where you need to be. Accepting your graduate program at The University of British Columbia led you to a weekend of exploring and apartment hunting in Vancouver. You had found your apartment complex by accident; you had been lost looking for another building when your eyes landed on it. The large winders on every floor practically shoved you into the lobby, and when you applied, only one unit was available for your expected move-in date. It had been a long shot, and somehow you ended up winning. 

You could recall the sound of a car pulling into the attached parking garage as you pulled a box out of your trunk, unintentionally knocking down a pillow in all the commotion. As you bent down to pick it up, you could hear the car door open and close before hearing a few footsteps. They stopped as you located your missing pillow; as you stood back up, you turned to find the stranger but found yourself searching for Andrew after hearing his voice. As you stood there waiting for him to grab another box, you looked towards the elevator and saw the stranger standing there. You couldn't see his face; he was just a blur of brunette hair and a gray outfit as the doors closed, and although you couldn't make out all his facial features, you could have sworn you saw him give you a smile before the doors closed completely. And before you even had a chance, Quinn captured your attention. And unbeknownst to you then, you had made a lasting impression on him, too. 

As you stared at the city, music in your ears, in the back of the Uber home, you could see every moment you and Quin shared. Every mundane moment, from knocking on his door in the morning with breakfast bagels and coffee to drunk conversations in the back of a car after a night out celebrating to sitting in either of your living rooms watching a movie with your commentary. It was like watching a montage scene, and it felt freeing because, for the first time, there was the possibility for something more. The feeling of longing had been hidden underneath your guilt, coming hand in hand, and now both were gone, instead replaced with something positive. 

"Miss, you have a package." The voice of your building's concierge brings you back to reality. It was a relatively wide rectangular box; you hadn't ordered anything that would come in a box of that size, which fueled your curiosity even more. "Thank you." You smiled and offered a kind goodbye before walking to the elevator. 

Without hesitation, another image of Quinn flew into your mind as the elevator doors closed. The first time you spoke was in the elevator up to your floor. He smiled, encouraged you to enter the elevator first, and asked if you needed help with your box despite carrying his bag. However,  after declining his offer, he made no other effort to continue the conversation. The two of you casually glanced at each other as the doors closed, waiting for the movement to begin, but when it didn't, you looked over to the right side of the door and laughed slightly. "What floor do you need?" he asked with a slight chuckle. "Sixteenth, please." You returned his chuckle and smiled. You watched as he clicked the sixteenth button but no other. "Are you on the same floor?" You could hear excitement in your voice, but you pushed it down. "Yeah, guess that means we're neighbour neighbours" Once again, that damn smile felt contagious; he felt contagious. 

When you reached your floor, you found yourself walking faster than usual to reach your door. It had only been a week; somehow, everything was completely different yet utterly the same. You walked into the apartment and set the package down on the counter, needing to know what was inside. Opening the lid, you are met with the most beautiful arrangement of your favourite flowers. There were different shades of your favourite colour, layering beautifully on each other, but what caught your eyes was the distinct blue rose in the middle, an envelope sitting directly on top. 

The envelope had your name written on it with the handwriting you had come to memorize. Inside was a postcard from Michigan, "Y/N, I can't get you out of my head. Only two more weeks left before I'm back in Van, and I can't wait to see you again. I found this while I was out, and it reminded me of you.   -Q" You held the card close to you for a second; it had the faintest mix of florals and Quinn's cologne. You looked at the fridge before deciding to keep the note in your room. It felt intimate, something you wanted to keep between you. Something caught your eye when you took the flowers out of the box and into a vase. Inside the envelope was a small plastic bag; you reached for it and found a necklace. 

A delicate chain with a small pendant with a sun and a moon, and when you turned it over, your breathing hitched; there was a small 43 engraved. When you read the note, you assumed the postcard was what he had seen, but it was the necklace. He had seen a necklace encompassing the sun and moon, something you were passionate about, and he had added something personal. The engraving must have been something he did; the probability that it had been done in manufacturing was slim to none, making it all the more special. You put it on and never wanted to take it off. 

You grabbed the postcard off the counter and lifted it closer to your chest before taking a close-up picture from your lips to showcase the necklace and postcard, "I'm thinking about you too. To the longest two weeks that will ever exist. To the sun and the moon and back." And as you hit the send button, you couldn't help but think about what was yet to come.  

_________________________________

[wendichester]

˙✧˖°📷 ༘ ⋆｡˚ say cheese,

summary. making memories in the Impala.

pairing. dean winchester + reader

wordcount. 869.

Dean’s hands rest casually on the wheel of the Impala, one wrist draped over the top as he hums along to some old Zeppelin track. You’re supposed to be navigating, but the map is nowhere in sight. You’ll have to give directions to Dean soon.

“Where’d you put the map?” you ask, leaning over to rifle through his duffle bag on the floor. “How do you manage to find anything in here?” You grumble. 

Dean glances at you, smirking. “It’s called organization, sweetheart. Try looking in the side pocket.”

“You’re hilarious,” you deadpan, unzipping the bag. But as you dig around, your fingers brush against something solid and foreign. You pull it out, blinking in surprise. “A Polaroid camera?”

Dean glances at it briefly before turning his attention back to the road. “Oh, yeah. Found that in the bunker last week. Thought I’d bring it along. Ya’ know, for kicks.”

“You, of all people, brought a camera?” you tease, holding it up. “What, planning on documenting your greatest hits?”

Dean smirks. “You kidding? With my face? Every picture’s a masterpiece.” You laugh, shaking your head. “Go on, take a picture,” he says, throwing you a quick glance. “Might as well get my good side while you’ve got the chance.”

“You only have one side, Winchester,” you quip, lifting the camera and aiming it at him.

Dean grins, the kind of grin that’s all cocky charm and a little bit dangerous. “You saying I’m perfect, sweetheart?”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” you reply in a mumble, but your grin betrays you as you hit the button.

Click.

The camera whirs, spitting out the film. You wave it in the air, watching the image develop. Dean glances over, curious.

“Let me see,” he says, holding out a hand.

“Eyes on the road!” you scold, tucking the photo against your chest. “You’ll see it later.”

He chuckles, shaking his head. “Bet it’s my best one yet.”

You roll your eyes, but your stomach flips slightly when you glance at the photo again. He’s mid-grin, sunlight catching his profile just right, and for a second, you forget to breathe.

“Your turn,” Dean says, breaking the moment.

“What?” Dean grabs the camera from your lap with one hand, holding it up as he keeps the other on the wheel. “Dean, you can’t take a picture while driving!”

“Relax,” he says, glancing over at you. His grin softens, just a little. “C’mon, give me that smile.”

You shake your head, trying to look annoyed, but he’s got that way of getting under your skin. Before you can stop yourself, you’re smiling anyway.

“Atta girl,” he murmurs, and then—

Click.

The flash blinds you for a second, and you groan. “If we crash and die, I swear I’ll haunt your ass.”

Dean just grins, glancing at the developing photo before sliding it into his shirt pocket. “Trust me, sweetheart, dying would be worth it if it means I get to keep this shot.”

You narrow your eyes at him, trying to ignore the heat creeping up your neck. “You’re such a dork.”

“And you’re gorgeous,” he shoots back smoothly, not missing a beat. His eyes flick over to you for just a second, like he’s daring you to say something. “But you already knew that.”

Your pulse jumps and you bite your lip, trying to not give him the satisfaction, but yeah—your heart’s totally doing flips. You lean forward, reaching for the camera. “Yeah, right.” 

Dean’s smirk just gets wider, and for a second, you swear he’s got this magic power over you like he can make you feel like the most alive person in the world with just a look. “Wanna take the camera?” he asks, and his grin turns a little mischievous. “Come on, sweetheart. I’m all yours. Take your best shot.”

For a split second, you freeze, but then you snap out of it, snatching the camera from his hands with a smirk of your own. “Give me that. Let’s see how photogenic you are when you’re flustering like an idiot.”

“Fluster?” Dean scoffs, holding the camera just out of your reach. “Sweetheart, I don’t fluster. I smolder.”

You roll your eyes, leaning closer as you try to grab it, and Dean doesn’t move away. His gaze flicks to yours, lingering for a beat longer than necessary. The air between you shifts, the playful tension crackling like static.

“You want the camera?” he says, his voice dropping to that gravelly tone that always makes your heart skip. “Take your shot, sweetheart. I’m all yours.”

You freeze for just a second, recomposing yourself. And then, with a laugh, you snatch the camera from his hand.

“Keep talking, Winchester,” you say, aiming it at him again. “This time, I’ll catch you looking stupid.”

Dean chuckles, and the sound is like a challenge in itself. “Oh, you’ll have to try harder than that. I don’t do dumb—I do hot.”

You narrow your eyes, feeling a rush of heat. “Sure, Dean. Sure you do.”

You catch him looking at you from the corner of your eye, and your heart skips. The way his lips curl, the way his eyes flicker… he’s definitely got you exactly where he wants you.

[elliezlils11utt]

⋅ ☆ 𐙚☀️˙✧˖°📷 ༘ ⋆｡ ˚🌷♡₊˚

you’ve always been ellie’s muse. whatever your doing, ellie’s capturing it in whatever way she can. her and her millions of hobbies always find a way to have you in them. 💗

your caught in the moment in hundreds of polaroids littered on her cluttered walls, her sketchbook is filled to the brim with you and your features, hell even most of her lyrics are about you.

so as you and your loser girlfriend are in the car on the way to the beach, your giggling and singing to the tune of the music playing in the background. your hands on the steering wheel and your eyes flickering from your ellie sketching away, then back to the road. the sun creeps in through the windows, casting perfect shadows under the curve of your nose, eyes, cheekbones. the strap of your swimsuit peeking from under your floral sundress. quickly ellie pulls the camera from her neck and lifts it to her face.

*click*

“ellieeeahhh!” you whine “i told you to stop taking pictures of me without warning!!” she just puts a goofy grin on her face and begins shaking the polaroid.

“ur jst too pretty.” she mumbles to herself looking down at your picture. this little loser just loves you too much not to capture you in everything you do. <33

~~~

a/n: i missed writing fluffy ellie. 🙁💗💗

[vax-merstappen]

F1 boys being your personal photographer 📷

imma start using the keep reading line because i feel like it gets cluttered otherwise.

i had so much fun writing these omg. finding all the cute pictures and coming up with scenarios was literally the best thing!

Lando Norris

You were too busy laughing at a joke Ria had made to realize that Lando had taken your picture. He was always snapping pictures of you when you weren’t paying attention and only when he posted them on his jpg account would you realize they had been taken. You scolded him when you saw the post but you couldn’t stay mad at your personal photographer for long, as you had to admit the pictures were always cute. Also who doesn’t mind a little attention from a boyfriend as cute as Lando?

Oscar Piastri

Every time you went on a trip with Oscar, you always took advantage of the opportunity to get him to take pictures of you. He wouldn’t do so without a bit of prompting and direction of how exactly you wanted the picture to look, as he always wanted you to look perfect in every shot. After a bit of reassurance that the pictures were after he had captured them, Oscar always brightened up, knowing he had made his girlfriend’s day just a little bit brighter. Even though it is a bit of a hassle getting him to take your pictures, you wouldn’t trade in your photographer for anyone else!

Max Verstappen

It was your first time going to one of Max’s races as his girlfriend and Max loved seeing you dressed in Redbull Racing gear. Every time he saw you throughout the weekend, he made sure to take a picture to capture the moment. Eventually, you asked him if he only liked to take pictures of you when you wore his team’s gear, to which he replied that he always likes taking pictures of you, but that the team clothes definitely made you look hot.

Charles Leclerc

Every time you dress up, Charles insists that you pose for a picture. You decided to put on a new dress for a date and dinner with Charles and as you walked through the city he stopped you all of a sudden. “Mon amour, I need to get a picture of you. You look too pretty to forget.” How could you say no? After quickly posing for him, you beamed with joy, feeling like the most beautiful woman in the word. If you asked, Charles would have told you that you were indeed the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.

Carlos Sainz

It was your first time playing golf and Carlos had given you instructions on where to stand and how to hit the ball correctly. You had given it a try, dramatically failing in your first two attempts, but managing to hit the ball a good ways on your third swing. As you continued to play, Carlos stood behind you and took your picture. You turned around excitedly after hitting the ball really well and saw Carlos grinning in pride and holding a camera. You ran into his arms, happy your boyfriend was so proud.

Lewis Hamilton

If you looked at Lewis’ camera roll, it would be filled with pictures of you and Roscoe, sometimes together and sometimes apart. One that particularly stands out was when he came home from a weekend racing to find you and Roscoe curled up together on the couch, fast asleep. He quietly entered the room and set his bags down before immediately sneaking over and taking a picture of his two sweethearts looking so peaceful together.

Daniel Ricciardo

One thing about Daniel is that you cannot stop him from taking pictures of you. That man always has his camera wherever he goes and more often than not, you find yourself the focus of his shots. So you were not surprised when you went to take a picture of the sunset only to see Daniel over your shoulder, taking a picture of you taking a picture. You of course didn’t mind, as pictures are one of the ways Daniel shows you how much he loves you. Fans always love seeing new posts on Daniel’s jpg account because they know the posts are filled with more content of you waiting to be seen.

Yuki Tsunoda

Yuki always found you most beautiful when you were doing something you loved. So when you went outside to put the final touches on your most recent painting, Yuki went with you. At first he only watched intently as you worked, but then he pulled out his phone and took a few pictures of you. When you checked your phone later that day, you saw a picture of you and your art on his Instagram story with a caption saying “my beautiful artist.”

Alex Albon

Alex always manages to capture your worst moments on camera (or what he would call your best moments). From pictures of you drunk to picture of you making silly faces, he has all the blackmail photos he could ever need of you. One of his personal favorites is the time you two were walking down the street after a night at the bar and you insisted on trying to ride the “spinny thing” at the playground you stumbled across. Needless to say, drunk you didn’t last very long and Alex caught you mid fall.

Logan Sargeant

Neither you nor Logan had traveled much before he got into racing. So once he began to visit the different countries on the schedule, he decided he wanted to get a picture of you in each place you went together. Of course you couldn’t come to every race, but at the ones you did attend, you made sure to get plenty of pictures of each other at all of the tourist attractions nearby the track. Your personal favorite picture he took was in Singapore, a country both of you had on your bucket list.

[dinerdweller]

okay but stanford!art x photographer reader would be so cool. the reader loves taking pictures of art whenever possible (especially candids)

-📷

smile, baby!

Art Donaldson x reader

notes: thank u sm for the request, I loved this so much!! this is lowkey really short so sorry abt that :/

Wc: 381 Cw: no use of y/n, not proof read because when do I ever

"Really? Right now?" Art sighs before sending you a cheesy grin, his eyes creasing at the corners. No matter how much he 'complains', Art always loves the photos you take. He is always willing to go along with the photo, pulling faces and posing dramatically just to make you happy.

"Yes right now, just smile, baby!" You laugh, looking at the photo you took. Your camera was never far away, stocked up with photos of Art. Him at practice or when he's making instant noodles in his dorm. Him at a dingy bar or when you get him out shopping. Loads of photos reminding you of all the small moments that could get lost in the big ones.

Scattered in there are ones he took of you, when you were out at lunch or when have your head in a book. Those are Arts favourites to look at, having more than one printed out and stuffed in his wallet or in the side pocket of his tennis bag when he's out training all day. Tacked up on his dorm wall is photos of you and him, out on dates or with friends, they are paired with photos you took of him and Patrick when Patrick occasionally visits.

"You really think so?" Your voice was soft as you played against his side, playing with the hem of his shirt as his hand twirled your hair.

"Mhm, I do. Just imagine you taking photos of me after a match, on the side of the court. My good luck charm would be closer than ever." He smiled down at you, some of his curls falling into his eyes.

You smiled brightly. Art loved you, so much. Even though he says it so much, he also shows it. That's why it's never a surprise when you see extra rolls of film for you polaroid camera laying on your desk, or a pile of photos Art took to the store to get printed. Sometimes there is even little notes on the back, dating them and the memory you captured.

He was so caring, treasured every shitty shot even when you try and get rid of them. Art truly believes that everything you do is perfect, and he's so sure it almost makes you believe it too.

[lifewiththelulus]

[1117feverlessdreams]

Picture Perfect

* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚ * ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚ * ੈ✩‧₊˚*

* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚ * ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚ * ੈ✩‧₊˚*

📷💖TAGS: Short but San is veryyy sweet 🌸Lots of fluffy fluff 🎀, mention of oral and masturbation, a lil bunny kink action 🐰 slight smut, and San as a dig bick nerd 🤓!

📷💖PAIRING: Nerd!San x Neutral!Reader, HOT!San x Photographer!Reader

📷💖WORD COUNT: 5.2k

📷💖A/N: I hope to push out more content soon. College has been a major setback for me but there are a lot of drafts in the making!

* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚ * ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚ * ੈ✩‧₊˚*

As you pounce around your apartment, you manage to grab the things you need for your class's reunion party tonight.

Your best friend was the host and had requested for you to take pictures as you used to do in your school days. You were so good that the school had asked you to take everyone’s picture for the graduating year.

After that, in your early adult life, your career of picture taking didn’t escalate to where you thought it be after all these years.

It was difficult being your own boss as vague as that sounds. Your clients can be unreasonable at times, and your schedule is always tight.

Luckily for tonight, you’ve managed to get your shoots done early today in perfect alignment with the later occasion.

Upon arriving, it was convenient for you to obtain a reserved spot in your best friend's 12-car garage. In other words, you would’ve had a hell of a walk carrying bulky camera equipment across a road of a walkway to a five-story mansion.

You felt proud that your friend had managed to acquire such an easy-going and luxurious lifestyle. Even if you were still working toward that point yourself, you still felt a sense of accomplishment as their dear friend.

With your parking spot you could enter the house from an alternate entrance, the quiet concrete space sounded still compared to what was going on inside.

It’s been a while since you've seen everyone. You were nervous spite of the fact, but you were always on good terms with your peers.

You take a deep breath and slung your tripod over your back, and adjust the camera pack on your shoulders. You turn the door knob and enter what was the back door to one of the kitchens.

It wasn’t long until you had recognized a few people who had already recognized you.

To your disposition, you were adruptly stopped into a general conversation. It was about 7 minutes long in a discussion of the progressions you’ve made in life with your former classmates.

You were saved from diving into a new topic of discussion when your best friend had walked in.

…

“Hey you! Why didn’t you tell me you were here?!”

A breath of relief releases from your lungs as she stood there in a bedazzling dress, looking like the brightest super star in the whole oversized house.

Well I would have but as you can see, I got caught up, you communicate with kind eyes.

“I guess it slipped my mind. I’m just excited to see everyone again tonight.”

As your best friend, she could obviously read your nervousness and could tell that the initial conversation made you feel overwhelmed.

Especially with heavy pounds of camera equipment crushing into your entire backside.

“Well hurry and come further inside so I can help you set everything up! That way you can take those pictures and mingle for a bit.”

You nod and follow her out to the kitchen to the central area of the party to set everything up in shape. Her immediate action was to take the tripod off your back while you set up everything from the duffle bagged camera pack on your shoulder.

“You’re too nice. You need to let people know what’s convienent in your time, like those arrogant clients you have.”

“Well you know I’m a people pleaser. My whole job centralizes around people.”

“I understand that. She says, snapping the locks of the tripods legs in place. “But never forget that you are a person too.”

No matter what anyone said that was envious of your friend's success, she always remained to be true to the person she was to you and better.

You finish by plugging in the ring light to illuminate your background. As tonight is a reunion, you came up with the bright idea of recreating Polaroid cards that everyone loved you for in your school years.

It was a regular white background, but your decorative expertise made the printed Polaroid photos look anything but regular.

What made you adore your friend even more was that most of your former classmates brought in those photos, in perfect condition, and to keep them after all these years made you gleam at your best friend from across the room.

After many reminiscent discussions, catching up, and strings of sticky glued mess from decorating, you were ready to call it wraps for the night to “mingle”- as your friend suggested.

Truthfully, you didn’t know how to mingle without photography being involved. As if someone had read your mind to prevent you from becoming a disaster of yourself, you heard your name before you pulled the ring lights plug.

“Hey! It’s great that you still do this kind of thing, I always knew this was meant for you.”

You watch as he walks into the light, glowing apart from the dim party lights.

Choi San, the school’s nerdy sweet boy that made your heart throb. He wasn’t any other girl's trope, but that only meant better for you to have him for yourself. But you were always hesitant to let him know how you felt. Even now.

“Choi San?”

“Don’t tell me you didn’t recognize me…”

You flicker your eyes up and down as you take in his black and white suit and tie. He always overdressed for any occasion, but that was one of many things you loved most about him. Not to mention, the boldness of his comb-over hot pink hair.

“No- it just- you grew up so well.”

"As did you.”

He smirks at you so hard to the point that a dimple comes into view in a small shadow due to the works of lighting.

“Yeah, I guess photography was always my way of capturing life with my eyes. It’s great that I can look at everyone when I want and relive those memories.”

Besides the fact that it takes you back to way back when, it makes you weak to the knees from the way he looks so good now, his intense gaze makes you overthink every word you said.

“Oh wait- that sounds really odd right?”

His smile grows larger, and another dimple is engraved in his slim cheekbones underneath the light. “I like odd. It’s boring when things are casual, and even.”

He walks past you and goes behind the camera to analyze your setup. He nods his head in approval with his hands in his pockets, then slides another one out to tap on the stool. “Mind if I do?”

“No. Not at all.”

“Thanks.”

You make your way back behind the camera to take his picture, secretly trapped by his beauty in your viewfinder.

His smile never came back down in any subtle way, which made you eager to just kiss him right there.

“Your teeth are nice but, can we recreate your old picture and just use your lips? Maybe… poke out a dimple?”

“Uh yeah… sure thing." He closes his mouth, smirking directly at you at first before you had to redirect his eyesight to the camera lens. You managed to capture his essence in a still frame with a final click. “My teeth are nice hm?”

“Um yeah… they’re nice”, you mumble, completely nerve-wracked. “It’s a bit of a shame though, but maybe we can use it for another photo." You awkwardly walk sideways to print out the photo as you transfer it from your friend's laptop. “Here’s your pic.”

He looks at the pic in his strong hands, standing back up again with a smile wide as he looks back up at you, slipping the smaller image into his front blazer pocket.

“Sounds like a plan.” If it wasn’t so quick you would’ve caught his glance at your lips, but yet you couldn’t even register that fact he’s talking to you now. “So, you still decorate Polaroids?”

“No, not really! It’s just for the occasion. It’s kind of out of style now so…”

“Oh no it’s totally in now! But no matter who else does it, I always said Y/n started it, and they do it best!”

“Awe thanks. You’re so kind, as always.”

Another smirk of his sly on by, a one-sided one that could potentially do more damage than the normal one. He wands his finger in the air, referring to the space around you. “See you around?”

“Yeah”, you nod. “I’ll be ‘mingling’ in just a few minutes.”

San breathes out a light chuckle, looking you up and down without hiding it before turning to walk away.

…

It didn’t take you long to pack things up as it does to set things up, but from your previous interaction, it made you more nervous to get out into the crowd.

With your luck, as you venture off to find your best friend, you walk into a drinking game in one of her family rooms, decorated with gold strobe lights illuminating the vintage furniture. She started it, of course, and you see San again, standing tall and relaxed on a back wall while everyone else is seated in a circle.

You approach the circle slowly, and yet your best friend manages to sense your presence. She turns around and opens her arms to bring you in to join the game.

Spin the bottle, it was.

Even as grown adults, here you are, still playing childish games.

San then decided to join as well. He taps on someone else’s shoulder to sit right across from you.

“This is for all the single people, your friend whispers, “…this is your chance to finally just go for it!”

You begin to scold her in response, but it startles you when everyone begins to drum roll on the ground for suspense. The bottle gets spun and starts turning in rapid rotations.

San finds comfort in making eye contact with you. You were the only ones not drumming on the ground, or cheering in excitement.

As some sort of messed up fate would decide, the bottle lands between you…and San.

“Well look at that”, a random classmate says, “…the two smart kids, Y/n and San!”

“If you don’t kiss, you have to feed each other a shot!”, a classmate shouts.

Without any thought, you immediately grab onto a shot glass from the middle table and pour it up for the both of you, all the way to the very top.

San follows your lead as you hand him a filled shot glass, rising on your knees.

All you had to do was pour the drink into each other's mouths. A simple task, but the fact that it was San made you slow to understand.

“I got it.” San grabs hold of your wrist with his gentle touch using his free hand. He places the rim of the shot on his rose-pink bottom lip, then nods at you to do the same.

You begin to follow him then, and when he gives you the signal, you tip the drinks upward into each other's mouth as you both tilt your head backward.

The strong scent of liquor infiltrated your nostrils through the wrong pipe, causing you to start having a coughing fit, and accidentally pulling San down on top of you.

��Sorry!”, you both say unanimously.

He rises from atop of you to pull you back up, but you are already quick enough on your own to scoot back into your spot.

“Well!”, your best friend suits from beside you, “the tension in here is suffocating!” She looks at you, reading over the bloodshot redness on your face. “Say y/n, are you okay with taking a group photo for everyone?”

“Y-yeah”, you stutter, “of course.”

“Great!”, she claps. “We should all take one.” She points to the area behind her while looking at everyone on the floor, “On the couch everybody!”

Everyone uncrosses their legs with moans and groans from the stiffness, one of the naturalist things that comes with your age.

“Oh! I need some time to set up still, it’s sort of dark in here.”, you explain while standing up.

“I can help you.”

You look to follow the voice of San, seated on the edge of the couch with drunk girls tossing themselves all over him.

“You don’t have to, you can just- stay right there.”

“It’s okay love… I insist.”

“AWEEEEE!”, the girls whine, forever being allured by San’s sweet heart and his looks.

Conversation between your classmates had naturally begun to pick up again. The task of setting everything up was two times quicker, but with the underlying tension, it felt longer.

As he isn’t too familiar with cameras, Choi San followed your lead once again.

Your hands occasionally touched as small murmured apologies would simultaneously be spoken between the two of you.

You were so immersed that you didn’t even notice your friend grinning as she watched. It was like watching you two as kids all over again.

When you had finally set everything up, you both rose from the floor at the same time, thumping each other's heads.

“Ouch!”, you exclaimed.

“Sorry.”, you both say.

“Hey, Sannie! Come sit with us for the picture!”, the girls scream, messily waving him over as they struggle to make room for another.

You step back to hide behind the camera, snapping threads of photos when everyone is ready to select the best ones for later.

“Y/n!”, your friend yells. “…you’ve gotta get in at least one of these!”

“Oh, no.”, you shake your head. “I don’t think there’s any spots left for me on the couch left anyway”

“You can have my spot.”, San calls you to again.

“It’s okay. I’ll stand behind the couch… it’s not that big of a deal.”

“AWEEEEEE!”, the girls whine again.

“I will too then.”

“AWWWWWWEEEEE!”, they whine obviously for another time.

“Okay, that’s enough everyone! Your friend sits in an annoyed tone. “Are you ready Y/n?”

“Yeah, one sec. You run behind the camera and run being the couch holding up a 3 with your fingers. “Alright, Reunion on 3!”, your friend announces.

“1, 2, 3. REUNION!”

You feel an arm snake around your shoulder, and you naturally grabbed on to it for the picture. One thing you hate as a photographer was noticing yourself in awkward tension in photos. So you’ve trained yourself not to be.

After the picture though, you felt like melting into the floor so you didn’t have to move forth with embarrassing yourself with Choi San tonight, you were consciously trying your best to bring up a plausible excuse.

“Was that okay? I apologize.”

“No you’re so fine. I mean- no- trust me, it’s fine.”

“Are you sure?”, he questions, looking over the mixed expression on your features. “It kind of happened naturally, but if it made you feel weird then-”

“I grabbed onto your arm anyhow, so if you wanna be real here, we both did it without checking on the other.”, you state with shrugged arms. “You see, we’re even.”

He closes the space and walks up to you and grabs your hand. “I like odd. It’s boring when things are casual, and even.”

“If you’re okay with it, I like to take you to someplace else. It’s walking distance, so don’t be wary.”

“Sure.” You look around to see everyone falling on their faces. “I could use some fresh air.”

..

You walk arm-in-arm across the city’s bridge with pretty city lights, and yet you're still confused about which view you like best with a beautiful man at your side.

He abruptly stops in his footsteps to unlink your arms, pulling his smartphone out of his pocket.

“If it’s okay”, he looks down, flipping his phone in his hand with nervousness, …"I want to take a picture of you at this moment. I feel like- as much as you take pictures-you hardly capture the beautiful moments with just yourself.”

You blink at him rapidly in astonishment, luckily for you, the occasional strong wind was enough reason to blame if you cried.

“That’s okay, thank you for that.”

He nods with a smile, encouraging you to pose against the railing in front of the waters and sky-high bright light buildings.

“You make the camera look good!”, he shouts, eyes being covered by the phone but his dimples peak with his toothy smile.

After a few minutes, you push off the railing, and San stands up to show you the results. It was fair for a beginner you thought, but the fact that it was San who took it made your heart pick up in pace. You looked at peace with yourself.

You take San’s place after reviewing your pictures and give him pro tips. During his photo shoot, you offered him poses which he perfected on his first try. Simply because he was so perfect.

At the end, he struts toward you, even when the camera isn’t on him he looks like a model.

“The camera makes me look good.”, he says reviewing your photos.

“You don’t need a camera for that silly, you’re right in front of me!”

“I mean…”, your cheeks bloom again with red as you smack yourself in the head.

He grins wide again, coming to stand by your side to watch over the city. “Even with this amazing view, you shined brighter than all of it.”

“Wow-um, Thank you, you’re so kind to me San.”

“Don’t mention it.”

A few cars passed, but in between that was peaceful silence as you and San continued to watch the bright lights, buildings, and stars.

“You ready to go back sweetheart? It’s getting late, and I don’t want to keep you up if you have clients to attend to in the morning.”

It broke you a little bit to hear that even San knew you were a workaholic.

“Actually, I’m free all of tomorrow as well. I didn't know how intense the party scene would be, and I didn’t want to take any chances.”

“You didn’t drink all too much, did you?” His tone is guardian-like, an ounce of concern pours within every word.

“Not really. How about you?”

“Maybe one or two, but I really finished neither.”

“So… we’re both good to drive home then.”

For some reason the peaceful silence grows into awkwardness and shame.

“You live nearby?”, San whispers.

“Nope, it’s a couple of hours for me. I’m thinking about crashing at a ‘tel tonight. I don’t want to get lost trying to find her bathroom in the middle of the night.”, you point to the way of the party, referring to your best friend.

A hearty chuckle leaves his mouth as it bounces with his broad shoulders. “That’s really far.”, he acknowledges, …”and I completely understand that but…I have a spare bedroom if you’re up for it. It’s reserved for family and friends only- nothing weird.”

There were a lot more pros than cons you thought, but high school you would’ve thought otherwise. But your adults now, where’s the harm in going over a friend's house?

“I’ll take you up on that, I could save the money.”

“Sounds great.”, he says, holding out his arms for you to grab onto with your own, “I can save you gas too, and drive you back to get your car in the morning.”

“You would do that for me?”

“I would.”

…

Even if he changed on the outside the inside of his apartment showcased how much of a dweeb he still was and you loved it.

He walked you into the room you’d be sleeping in which was a slight contrast of his dweebiness but it still shows his personality nonetheless.

For pajamas, he handed you a t-shirt with the cutest Pokémon character on it and some black sweats. When you came out of the room from changing, you followed the alluring smoke of delicious aroma from the kitchen to find him sautéing a stir fry.

He changed from his formal suit to the casual wear of his black tee shirt and black sweats. But to you, it was anything but casual, because how can such a man look so sexy in something so basic as plain black clothing?

“It smells amazing in here, I’m actually starving.”

“There’s plenty enough for you here sweetheart. What kind of person would I be not to feed my guest?”

“I appreciate it. You’re the sweetest.”

“Of course.”, he moves away from the stove to hand you your plate as you both move into his living room to watch the movie you selected. “We will reserve dessert for later.”

It had been twenty-something minutes since the movie began and you couldn’t recap on what happened if San asked you to.

Dessert was severed right after dinner as promised, but was it wrong for you to want something else more?

“I’ll guess I’ll head to bed now”, you muttered, “thank you for everything, from taking me home and cooking a delicious meal.”

“Of course. He gets up from the couch as you do, “I’ll head to bed now too.”

“Good night, San.”, you wave from across the hall.

“Good night, Y/n.”, he doesn’t shut his door until after you do, which was a little intense because you kept gawking at him.

You can admit that everything was perfect. The bed was at the perfect standard between hard and soft, the sheets were clean, and the room was tidy and smelled nice. But later that night you couldn’t sleep, so you go to check on San to see if he was still awake.

You don’t think to knock on his door in case you might wake him up from good sleep.

However, what you didn’t expect was him sitting up in his bed with a night light and glasses reading manga.

When you come in he’s flustered and throwing the book somewhere across the room while he tosses his glasses on his nightstand.

“Sorry! I thought you were asleep!”

You rush to close the door and San struggles to reach you as his ankles get tangled from the sheets covering his bed.

“Wait, it’s okay!” You open the door slightly with only one eye in appearance, idolizing San’s unbelievable frame. “Is everything all right? Did you need anything?”, he says in a rushed tone.

“I just-honestly, my nerves are bad and it’s hard for me to settle in at other people’s houses.”

“Oh! I’m sorry.”, he grabs a blanket from his bed to reveal another one, moving to stand in front of the edge, and closer to you. “You can take the bed in here if that’s better for you. I’ll make a pallet on the floor.”

“No that’s okay!” You wave him off between the cracks. “Maybe I’m just paranoid.”

“I promise, it’s alright.” He walks much closer to you now, taking his grip on the door and opening it wide to your exposure. “Please…I insist.”

You walk into the room, looking between the hard wooden floor and his fluffy bed which was also dressed in black. “How about we just share the bed San, that way no one has to be uncomfortable?”

You’re both adults… you can handle it, right?

“Um sure, yeah. He tries the cover back down onto the mattress as you close the door behind you. “If you’re comfortable.”

“I am, are you?”

“Yes.”, he confirms, then settling in as he sits up, waiting on you to join in.

“Good.”

“Good.”

You make your way in and San turns off his nightlight to finally get some rest, the both of you turning in the opposite of ways.

Unexpectedly though, you both turn opposite again at the same time, and your lips become magnetic in an inevitable connection.

You both pull away on your last breaths, gazing into the other's eyes, and pulling your bodies closer.

“Can I tell you something?”, you both whisper at the same time.

“You first.”, you both say again.

San takes the initiative to start before you this time, hovering his hand above your cheek in which you take hold of as soon as the opportunity presents itself. “I’ve been waiting to do that since high school.”

“Me too”, you confess. “I think…no- I know I like you.”

His eyes brighten and he begins caressing your soft flesh. “Same here.” In seconds you begin kissing again, never ending until before you take each other's breaths away.

It actually began to escalate into something more afterward. You both felt like you had to continue touching the other in one way or more.

San began to pull the plug as he stopped himself from pulling your shirt over your head. “I uh… we don’t have to-”

You immediately silence him with a kiss, pulling the remainder of your shirt that was left on your body yourself. “I want to with you, please.”

“Why would i ever say no to you?” San moves over on top of you, trying to get to know your body more from its every angle. “Where do you want me?”, he asks, mainly because he’s unsure where to start himself.

“Anywhere and everywhere, please?” Your reach up to touch a long strand of pink behind his hair and smooth your fingers along his jawline.

“Anything for you my sweet.”

He then makes the move to firstly bend down and kiss you on the head, making his way down directly to where your pleasure erects.

“Wait!”, you whisper above what was considered normal, startling San you come to a complete halt. “Glasses.”

He scoffs and climbs his way back up to your face. “Don’t tell me you have a kink for glasses.”

“Only when you put them on”, you sensually remark. “It makes you look even more delectable.”

“Is that so?”, he devilishly grins, “Hand them over here then.”

He slides on glasses as he looks deep into your eyes. Embodying the nature of a DILF like no other, perhaps that’s another kink you only have with him.

San moves downward again to your sex, pursuing straight into action. With the skills of his lips and tongue, her was able to suck, twirl, and eat every bit right out of you until his glasses are smeared with your cum, and your legs are quivering in instability.

“So it’s true”, you mumble, sucking back in every breath you give out. “…nerdy boys do give the best head. I wonder if the big dick part is true or not.”, you grin, letting your sex drive take wheel off every previous challenge.

San lets up and pulls onto the string that flatters his waist, pulling the down as the fabric loosens and stretches. “I’ll let you be the judge of that.”

His shirt selfishly covers him with he reveals himself to you, sticking up hard underneath black cotton. But he reads your desperate expression and relieves your mind, taking his shirt off to sire him all to you.

“Holy fuck.”

San leans down to your ear and lightly kisses its outer shell, while the tip of his meaty cock taps on your abdomen.

“What do you think my love? Are the rumors true?”

He pulls apart from you and you follow the front of his face, shaking your head in disbelief. “I think they underestimated you.”

“Good answer, you’re not as dumb of a bunny as I’d thought you’d be.”

Your breath hitches from the ticklish feeling your body shivers from in hindsight. “B-b-bunny?”

“That’s right baby, that’s what I’ll call you, my little cock hopper.” San flips you over to leave you the role of being top, and yet he takes the lead by plunging his dick right into your sweet spot.

“Oh my- fuck!” Your eyes flutter as your mouth gapes open wide, gripping on his sheets and printing your claws.

He wastes no time to push in and out of you. Your beauty has driven him to insanity. But your noises and cuteness brought him over the very edge.

“Bunny do you know? unghhhh- how many times I- gosh- got a hard on in class and had to go to the bathroom- shit- because of you?”

“No, I’m sorry”, you whine. “Did you ever-fuck- do it? Rub it off?”

He growls at your inquiry, thrusting in hard and much deeper than before, forcing you to jerk forward. “Did I?”, he laughs darkly, “Why do you think I was nowhere to be found every lunch period? You think I was eating on the floor-arghhh-somewhere?”

“I would’ve assumed so but..if you needed my help Sannie, then you could’ve just asked y’know?”

“You would’ve did that for me Bunny?”, he whimpers, reaching up to caress your unattended skin.

“I would’ve Sannie. That cafeteria food was nothing to miss out on anyhow.”

The both of you laugh from the recall of freezer burnt fries and overcooked pizza.

“Fuck, bunny. I wished I would’ve talk to you sooner.”

“We can make up for lost time, Sannie.”

“Have you ever thought about us being together? He starts to thrust slower, eager to hear your thoughts. Like… in a relationship?”

“I always have too”, you conquer. Even now.”

He almost comes to full-stop, gazing up at you with furrowed brows and lost eyes. “Will you be mine then Y/n, please?”

For the first time tonight, you show your teeth with a wide smile. “With pleasure.”

The two of you meet halfway in a warm kiss. San starts to pick up his pace again, faster and harder, plunging into your hole as he holds onto your neck so you can never let go.

Your releases and his collide together like a shockwave, leaving you both to just collapse on one another and breathless.

“You’re mine now, no take back-sees, he teases, kissing your red-hot flustered cheek.

“I’ve waited this long Sannie”, you say lifting your upper body to smooth wet hair from his forehead to uncover the handsomeness that is his precious face. “As if I would ever.”

…

In his bed you lie peaceful and calm, deblocking the things you wish you would’ve done with the beautiful things you have.

It made you come up with the idea as you tap on San’s muscle-tight arm to be released from your waist, to which he whined and babbled about.

You bend down to retrieve your clothes that was left discarded at his bedside to fish into your pockets.

You pulled out the pink tube and applied it to your lips, then went into San’s front blazer pocket to find his Polaroid.

San has watched you carefully from the lipstick to the point where you kissed his picture. One on the cheek, the other, on his neck.

“Is that a decoration for my Polaroid?”

“One of them, I’m not done yet”, you giggle.

You began to write, ‘SO HOT’ and ‘call me!’ with your new phone number attached. Around the border, you added pink hearts to compliment his hair and complete the image.

“There, now it’s done.” He sits up as you tilt the picture in his direction. “What do you think?”

He grabs onto the square laminated photo, evaluating every design. “Nobody does it like you baby. It’s picture perfect.”

…

The night continued on with you giggling with San as you shared your embarrassing crush stories with each other, contemplating why the hell you both didn’t say anything sooner.

* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚ * ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚ * ੈ✩‧₊˚*

A/N: This was so fun to create! I hope to post more stories soon! 💞

Much love,

xoxo

[my313]

instagram bf!beomgyu 🐻📷

now playing 𝄞₊⊹ love - rocco

⋆ pairing: bf!beomgyu x f!reader

⋆ warnings/themes: fluff, pda, paris trip w gyu, has some insta story pics, suggestive at the end but not rly?, i love writing cute whipped men beomgyu will not be exempt!!!!

a/n: only a few days until cb!! so have this hehe <3 been thinking abt it since he opened his insta acc .. and the amount of pics hes taken for user page.soobin!!! me 🤝 beomu photographer agenda

your friends compliment how well your paris pictures turned out, gushing about how they can tell you’re glowing even through their phone screens. one of them even asks how you smile so genuinely. your colleague asks how your candids look picture-perfect, as if the sun knew when to kiss your skin, or when the moon illuminated the swell of your cheeks, and especially as if the camera just knew when to shoot.

there is no magic to your pictures, but you have something — rather, someone — quite close.

your boyfriend of many years, choi beomgyu, had always had a knack for making things appear more beautiful in his capable, calloused hands. though, if he heard you now, he’d give you a scolding, “the camera just captures your beauty. it’s not any of my doing, babe.”

maybe that’s a half-truth, but you know that your boyfriend definitely works his magic on you.

because when beomgyu has a lens in his hold, be it your phone or an ebay-bought digicam; it’s his love for you that carries. every frame that manages to reach yours or his instagram following, even the ones tucked safely behind your phone case and in his wallet.

it’s all a culmination of beomgyu’s lovestruck gaze, his animated attempts of hyping you up, the jokes you pass back and forth, and the utter adoration you have for him.

you vividly remember the night you and beomgyu aimlessly strolled around paris. the streets would appear dull to many, but you and beomgyu could make any city an enamoring experience with your uncontrollable fits of laughter, mischievous giggles, and the comical sway of your clasped hands back and forth.

like most tourists, you end up by the eiffel tower.

when beomgyu unclasps your hands to paw at the lens cover of his camera, you laugh. “isn’t it illegal to take pictures here at night?”

he moves the camera to his face, trying to look through the viewfinder with one eye shut. “you know what’s illegal, baby?” he redirects his gaze to your unassuming face, the camera moved to the side.

“hm?” your head tilts, genuinely curious.

beomgyu bites down on his lip to hide the growing smile he always can’t seem to control when you’re at mercy to his foolishness. one of the things he loves about you is the way you’re simultaneously gullible and quick enough to join the banter he sets up.

his index finger positions itself on the button readily, shifting back to cameraman mode with the chunky piece of technology blocking out his face.

“to not take photos of my gorgeous, most prettiest, scrumptious, girlfriend that i can frame and put up everywhere.” click.

you stare at him, dumbfounded. even more confused by the click of his camera. you don’t hear it again until seconds later when you throw your head back to let out a boisterous laugh; the ridiculous kind that only beomgyu loves and other tourists hate. click.

when your face is back in the viewfinder, beomgyu shoots again. it feels as though the lens is brought to a new life when you’re the muse, because beomgyu’s rose-coloured gaze shifts the world the camera sees through a pinkish filter — one with hearts and sparkles everywhere. all because of you.

the warmly-lit eiffel tower shies in comparison to the warmth of the grin etched on your lips, cheeks about to burst. click. click. click. one more with flash.

beomgyu makes a halt, capping the lens and slinging the camera over his neck again. you’re calming down from your laughing fit, but you still clutch at your stomach breathlessly. beomgyu takes this as a chance to walk over and take you into his arms.

he nestles you into him, letting you rest your head on his chest like you were too shy to look up at him. a chaste kiss to your forehead prompts you to look up at beomgyu. he smiles fondly at you, “wanna see the photos?”

you grumble, falling back into his chest. his hearty laugh makes you feel the vibrations, and you can’t picture being with anyone else in this lifetime or the next. “i guess…”

he lets you pull away, but only so far. beomgyu’s arms never stray too far, especially when he’s not holding your hand. he wraps an arm around your waist and huddles you in, like showing you these candid pictures of you laughing at his nth stupid joke was some top secret.

“this one’s gonna be a banger, babe…” he scrolls through the camera’s memory roll. “credit me when you post, okay?” he pouts at you.

you roll your eyes, more dotingly than in irritation. “clout chaser…”

“nooo..” he whines.

“i just want people to see who’s behind the camera, making you laugh, seeing you at your most beautiful.” beomgyu’s shift from teasing to sentimental has you cooing. you can’t help but give him a little head pat, one of his favourite forms of affection. like a puppy.

you nod, laughing along. “don’t worry, everyone knows. but i’ll do it for you, my struggling artist~”

“i won’t be struggling anymore if you gimme kiss,” back to taking jabs. his lips are in a pout and you’re tempted to pinch them with your fingers, knowing he’ll grumble cutely.

“c’mon, it’s commission for the photos. good deal, right?”

you peck his lips multiple times, then one on either side of his cheek. by the time you finish, he looks like a smiling fool. you poke at his whisker dimples while your other hand holds his hand.

“i’ll give you an even better payment if we go back to the hotel now. what d’you think, pretty boy?”

beomgyu has never walked that fast in his life.

[supergraphicgirl81]

With A Little Help From My Friends ⋆⁺₊❅.

Alexandra Saint Mleux ˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊

Formula 1 college hockey team social media AU! Instagram Edition

The tight-knit college hockey team, the Silver Blades, run by team captain Max Verstappen, isn't just about scoring goals—it's a chosen family. On and off the ice, the team has each other's backs, whether that's through college assignments, throwing awesome parties, or winning the championship together. Follow these overworked, tired, college students as they post through their day-to-day life.

Translations → Small text, Italics

With A Little Help From My Friends Masterlist ݁𝜗𝜚. Alexandra Saint Mleux Masterlist ݁𝜗𝜚.

AlexandraSaint

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CharLeclerc Oh mon dieu comment (liked by AlexandraSaint) Oh my god how

CharLeclerc Alex please I need to breathe today (liked by AlexandraSaint)

CharLeclerc tu es parfait, tu es à moi, tu es tout, tes yeux, tes lèvres, tes cheveux, tu es parfait dans tous les sens imaginables un jour je vais t'épouser et nous passerons le reste de notre vie ensemble (liked by AlexandraSaint) you are perfect, you are mine, you are everything, your eyes, your lips, your hair, you are perfect in every way imaginable one day I will marry you and we will spend the rest of our lives together

Franco43Colapinto holy yap! 😭🙏

LandoNorris4 brother in christ CALM DOWN

OscarJP I think you've broken charles (liked by AlexandraSaint)

AlexandraSaint sorry son

OscarJP Please by all god 🙏 Do not call me that

CharLeclerc Oscar Jack Piastri do NOT speak to your mother like that (liked by AlexandraSaint and ItsYourname)

OllieBearman LMAOOOOOOOOOOO

ItsYourname you are the prettiest muse i have ever had, I want to shoot pictures of your forever

OscarJP Feeling slightly offended by this one

AlexandraSaint oscar! quitte nos affaires!!!!! leave our business

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liked by Franco43Colapinto, GeorgeRus, and others

AlexandraSaint crazzzy day out

tagged LilyMuniHe, ItsYourname, and LandoNorris4

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Franco43Colapinto i noticed one franco was not invited to the hangout? Since when did it get cool to uninvited the cool people estoy muy confundido y curioso?

AlexandraSaint franco we literally asked you to go but you said and i quote "this is the worse hangover i will ever have, i cannot cope and will never drink again, please go on without me"

Franco43Colapinto i didn't actually mean go 🙄

AlexandraSaint no seas tan estúpido tengo algo de sopa para ti 🙄 don't be so stupid I have some soup for you

LandoNorris4 i think in another life i was meant to be your guys fourth roomate

LandoNorris4 like yeah wresting time and video game marathon nights with the boys are fun but my true potential was to be sipping a warm chai with my girls gossiping

OscarJP Are you okay??

Albono Nono I know exactly what he means (liked by AlexandraSaint)

CharLeclerc 🤨🤨🤨🤨🤨🤨

CharLeclerc That is a lot of bags and my credit card is gone

AlexandraSaint i think leo took it again?

RandomFan One strand of her hair, and I'm copying her whole life

RandomOtherFan PUH-LEASE you could never do it like her (liked by AlexandraSaint)

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[asgoodeasgold]

Netflix Dept. Q first look press round up

A MUST WATCH SHOW

Consistantly in best picks.

THE CAST

Exciting, star-studded, stellar, impressive, top flight, a dream.

MATTHEW GOODE

Acclaimed & celebrated actor, ever-enigmatic, compelling screen presence, always excellent. MG in full brooding detective mode? Yes please.

SCOTT FRANK

Brilliant mind, strong limited series prowess, one of Hollywood's finest screenwriters.

Dept. Q's impressive creative lineage suggests potential for sophisticated storytelling and production values. Quality absolutely guaranteed.

Scott Frank's involvement promises to separate Dept. Q from the rest of the shows in the crowded genre. If anyone knows how to deliver tightly written, emotionally gripping TV with characters we can’t stop thinking about, it’s him.

The combination of Scott Frank’s writing experience and Matthew Goode’s compelling screen presence makes Dept. Q a dark and twisty series that will keep viewers completely engaged.

THE SHOW

Netflix is giving us another reason to cancel plans, forget sleep, and fully surrender to binge-watching. And this time, it’s bringing Scottish accents, dark secrets, emotional trauma, and Matthew Goode in full brooding detective mode.

We’re onto something pretty brilliant here. Highly anticipated Dept. Q looks exciting, thrilling, gripping, exhilarating, stylish... It looks to be a noir crime feast for the eyes.

It could be one of the standout Netflix dramas of the year based on the show’s pedigree alone and might kickstart a scandi crime revival.

Expect that same kind of slow-burn storytelling, rich character work, and tension that tightens like a noose as the episodes unfold as the Queen's Gambit.

Chilling atmosphere and character drama that feels both intimate and epic.

Set against the moody, gothic backdrop of Edinburgh, Dept. Q leans hard into what makes this kind of show rather irresistible. We’re obsessed with that gothic vibe already.

Dept. Q wraps each episode in chilling atmosphere and character drama that feels both intimate and epic. Perfect for those who like their crime with a side of psychological unrest.

📷 Credits on pictures

✒️ BBC, BestLife, BGR, CBR, Cinema Blind, Cosmopolitan, Eastern Eye, FanGirlish, Good Housekeeping, Hello, Hollywood Outbreak, Image, IndieWire, Irish Times, Jobaaj Stories, MovieWeb, MovieWeb, Netflix Junkie, News Byte, Red, Red, Rolling Out, ShowSnob, TellyVisions, The Express, The Guardian, The Independent, The Mirror, The Playlist, The Scotsman, The Sydney Morning Herald, Time Out, TNYT, Uproxx, Uproxx, US Magazine

[shakespearefreak]

Over the weekend, I went to my family’s Cottage in the Northwoods for the first time since I was a kid! 🌲 I had a fantastic time, and also brought Kaya, Samantha, and Nellie (my mother and stepfather were very patient with me packing three dolls, two doll horses, a teepee, and a bunch of photography equipment 📷 into their van along with my suitcase 😂). I’m going to post the pictures of Sam and Nellie separately later on, but I wanted to share my Kaya photos now.

I’m pretty proud of the teepee: I made it myself!... or, sort of. I bought the first version of Kaya’s Teepee NIB recently on FB Marketplace. When it arrived, it was very clearly unopened… but the faux animal-hide fabric was cracking horribly from sheer age, and I didn’t feel right returning it because of something the seller clearly didn’t know about after opening it when it was NIB; besides which, shipping cost a lot, and it would barely have been worth it to return after shipping it back, even if the seller did accept a return. So I bought some microsuede and faux leather cord and, using the original fabric as a stencil, I made my own. I did everything myself, from sealing the edges so they don’t fray, to dying the flaps at the top with some Rit fabric dye left over from a different project; then I attached it to the original plastic tent sticks. I also changed a few things while I was at it to make the doorway larger so you can actually see inside. It’s not perfect (I messed up and cut both pieces the same, rather than as mirror images, so part of it is actually wrong-side-out; and I burned one side in the dying process, as well as splashing some dye on it) and I plan to re-do it later, but honestly I’m a bit amazed it came out as well as it did!

Note: I am White. If you are indigenous and find anything in this post offensive, please let me know and I’ll edit it or take it down!