#best compact camera

[tokyo-camera-style]

Mono Graphy Camera and Art, Tokyo

Konica Big Mini BM-301

[techdriveplay]

What Is the Best Type of Camera for General Photography?

Choosing the right camera can be daunting, especially with the variety of options available today. Whether you’re a budding enthusiast or a seasoned photographer, understanding what is the best type of camera for general photography is essential to capturing stunning images that resonate with your artistic vision. This guide will delve into the different types of cameras, their features, and…

[crazydiscostu]

Orbbec Femto Bolt ToF Camera

Techie Tech Tech!

The Orbbec Femto Bolt stands strong as a compact and high-performance device, aimed at meeting the demanding needs of AI developers and those engaged in 3D vision applications. This multi-mode Depth and RGB camera, is equipped with a USB-C connection for power and data, presenting itself as a versatile and cost-effective solution. Its capabilities make it an attractive option for developers…

[gadgetgeniusinsights]

DJI Mini Drone (4K)

🚁✨ New blog post alert! Discover the amazing DJI Mini Drone (4K) – perfect for capturing stunning aerial shots! 📸🌍 #DJIMiniDrone #4KDrone #AerialPhotography #TechReview #DroneLovers #FlyHigh

Visit the DJI Store Style: Mini 4K (31-min)Brand: DJIModel Name: MT2SDSpecial Feature: For Beginners, Long Distance Control, under 249 g, Regulation Friendly, ‌38kph (Level 5) Wind Resistant, 3-Axis Gimbal and EIS, 10km HD Video Transmission, 4K Ultra HD, Auto-Landing, Boost Your Inspiration with Quick Shots, Auto Return to Home, Various Beginner Tutorials, One Button ReturnAge Range:…

[sailortongue]

Number 7's Number

pairing: Kenji sato x reader

summary: with a promotion on the line, you are thrilled to have the opportunity to speak to Kenji Sato during a press conference, but you get more from him than anticipated

an: based on this!

--------

Kenji Sato. Currently the most popular player in the league. A legend in the making, some say. A Golden Glove Award, a Silver Slugger Award, and personal stats that easily place him among the best players on the field, it’s no wonder he was a fan favorite. Not to mention he was easy on the eyes.

Needless to say, you jumped at the opportunity to attend his upcoming press conference. You gave yourself a onceover in the mirror for the final time and double checked your list of pre-prepared questions before grabbing your car keys and heading out. You rehearsed your questions the entire drive to the venue. You had a promotion riding on this, so you’d be mortified if you made a fool of yourself on national television.

A short drive later, you were in the parking lot, anxiously sitting in the driver’s seat and scrutinizing your makeup in a compact. And thank goodness you did, else you would have been talking to the most handsome man you had ever laid on with lipstick on your teeth. You took a deep breath to calm your nerves before exiting the vehicle and approaching the building. There were both signs and security to direct you to the room the press conference would be held in.

You followed the signs and reached a set of double doors through which you could hear the din of chatter. Other reporters, no doubt. You pushed open one of the doors and joined the throng, managing to get a seat near the front by some miracle.  Once you were settled in your chair, you checked your watch. Plenty of time to spare. 

After what must have been your fifth game of solitaire on your phone, there was finally commotion coming from a side door. You quickly shoved your phone in your pocket, all the room’s attention now on the star athlete walking in. He exuded confidence with every step he took, and his cocky grin would’ve made your knees weak had you been standing.

He took his seat behind the table at the front of the room, and the press conference commenced. You waited patiently for an opportunity to ask questions of your own. You stood when you had your chance, and his eyes locked on your form.

“Wow, she’s beautiful,” he murmured to himself.

Except, it wasn't to himself. The microphone was far more sensitive than he had thought, and it was heard loud and clear throughout the entire room. You felt your face flush with heat instantly. There was an increase in volume as well as a few camera flashes directed at you. He chuckled nervously, asking the obvious. “Did you hear that?”

“I did,” you answered simply, the shy smile that formed from his verbal slip-up somehow making you even prettier in his eyes.

He slapped his hands over his face, covering the redness that gave away just how embarrassed he was. Would it be rude of him to just leave in the middle of a conference?

When he finally peeked out from between his fingers, you were still standing, waiting patiently to ask questions. He decided then and there that he would find you when this was over and it would be his turn to ask questions. Specifically, he wanted to ask to trade phone numbers. Y’know, just for potential future interviews. Definitely not for anything more.

❀-Bonus-❀

You woke the next morning to find a coworker you were friends with had sent you an article—“Baseball Star Ken Sato Calls Reporter Beautiful”—complete with a photo that had been taken of you during the conference.

There was a message beneath the link. “Anything you’d like to share?”

You thought back to yesterday, still not quite believing the one and only Ken Sato had not only called you beautiful, but had even caught up with you afterwards just to ask for your number. It was enough to have you giggling and kicking your feet like a smitten schoolgirl. It was a moment shared between just the two of you, and a selfish part of you wanted to keep it that way. Any guilt you may have felt about withholding the sports world’s current hot gossip was quickly washed away though with an incoming message.

“Goodmorning, beautiful. Tonki’s tonight at 7? I’ll pick you up.”

[mayumiiyuu]

for your eyes only

smut under the cut, minors dni

⋆｡°✩ thinking about dick grayson and how he loves his perfect, pretty girl so much. his entire gallery is filled with pictures of you; photos of you that look as if they were taken by a professional photographer with just the right lighting as he captures you in all your good angles (though let’s face it—every angle of you is a good angle, especially to him) for you to post on your social media, others are of the two of you on dates, his hand in yours or at the small of your back, or nights in with the two of you wearing face masks and stuffing your mouths with popcorn as you watch trashy reality TV shows or riveting drama series on Netflix.

most of his gallery, however, is filled with candid pictures of you that he takes when you’re not looking or he snaps at just the right moments in order to capture the memory; you putting on lipgloss as you use your compact, pictures of your eyes crinkling at the corners as you laugh heartily at his jokes, or grinning and your eyes twinkling with excitement as you play with the puppy the two of you adopted, or those of you with yours lips pursed and brows furrowed slightly as you concentrated on reading a book or drawing, mind too lost in your imagination and thoughts to notice the his phone’s camera flash in the warm, dim lighting of your room.

but his favorite pictures are concealed in a separate folder, one that requires a password and is guarded by several protections to keep others from potentially seeing or hacking into it. in all honesty though, most of these are videos of you that he likes to look at on those late nights he has to be away from you, just like tonight.

dick’s hand wraps around his cock, thumb rubbing over his thick, leaking tip, copying as best as he could how you’d hold him in your soft hands, pumping his fist up and down his shaft, desperate for some semblance of you as his eyes are glued to his screen, the sounds of his own voice echoing in his earphones (as if he’d ever risk anyone else hearing the sounds you’d make for him).

“pussy’s so good f’me, pretty,” he moans in the video as his hand spreads your folds, watching intently on how your cunt greedily stretches around his cock. “fuck—won’t last long, baby. you’re so fuckin’ tight.” he groans, burying himself inside you as you whine and moan and mewl against his hips snapping at your ass, each of his thrusts causing the fat of it to jiggle, until he finally pulls out, his cum painting your ass with creamy white ropes. but he’s not done yet, not when he scoops up some of it on his fingers and brings it up to your mouth— the good girl that you were for him, your tongue immediately darts out as you suck on his digits, and he lets out another groan; though this time dick isn’t sure if the sound is emanating from the video or from his own lips.

he scrolls through the folder, before landing on his favorite picture of you, knees pressed to your chest, legs spread so beautifully for him, the tip of his cock just a little bit cut off from the frame, your wet hole leaking with his cum, a blissed out, cockdrunk smile on your lips as your eyes catch in the light of the camera’s flash.

just thinking about that time with you is enough to make him finally cum from his own hand, imagining his fist was your tight cunt he loves so much.

he sighs, sweat trickling down his forehead as he slowly comes down from his high—only for him to perk up once again, blood rushing towards his cock when he sees a notification pop on on his screen: a message from you.

‘for your eyes only❣️” it read.

man, was he lucky to have you.

[0310s]

take a picture, it'll last longer! (leehan) ᯓ★ 

members: leehan x gender neutral reader

genre: fluff, established relationship

wc: 1.2k

summary: a photobooth, too many options to choose from, and a naughty lover (spoiler: it’s not you).

a/n: once again... thank you to @dollvrse for implanting this idea in my head... you literally have the best ideas. i went utterly insane imagining this scenario, so i had to churn out this fic for the sake of my mental health. enjoy!

 𓉞⋆｡˚☁︎｡⋆

“Leehan, Leehan, a photobooth!” you gasp and nudge your boyfriend of one month. The singular photobooth is tucked in a cozy corner of the street, right beside a homey cafe. A peek under the curtain shows it’s unoccupied—lucky! “Hurry up, let’s go, let’s go, let’s go!” You tug at Leehan with your intertwined hands without waiting for a response; your lovely partner seems happy to be dragged along, either way. 

Sliding the curtain open, you quickly usher Leehan into the photobooth. As expected, the interior is compact, just enough for a pair to squeeze in and take photos. It’s honestly been quite some time since you’ve entered a phootbooth; you’ve never had a particular interest in these sorts of gimmicks. But now, you have something to commemorate and you want to be reminded of through photographic means—so here you are. 

Still, this is no time to peruse the photobooth interior. The last time you visited one, all you needed to do was to take your pictures and the machine would churn out everything else for you. Now, there are a plethora of options to choose from—too many, in fact, that you end up feeling momentarily paralyzed. “Okay, what are we feeling today? Two poses? Four poses? Eight poses? And there are… uhh… ten layouts we can choose from? There are way too many options... I’m getting confused!”

“We can probably just go with the regular four-photo strip.” Leehan’s voice is low and melodious as he answers you. “And pick the ocean design. The fish look cute there.” You nod and go with it, not wanting to waste any more time on deciding. As you pull out your wallet to feed the machine a couple of bills, Leehan beats you to it and fishes the photobooth some of his own money. Before you can even protest, Leehan sends you a little smile. “My treat.” How could you ever be mad at him with that smile of his?

You’re cut off from your daydreaming about how wonderful everything about Leehan is when the screen sounds, indicating you should get into position. “Okay, first pose!” You come up with many poses, but none of them seem right. Leehan proves to be unhelpful because all he’s doing is gazing at you with a fond smile on his face. “Leehan, maybe stop looking at me and help me out?” 

“I can’t help it. You’re just too beautiful,” Leehan tells you, “my eyes go wherever you are.” At this, your face burns with embarrassment. You’re about to tell Leehan to stop joking around when the photobooth shutter goes off with a loud sound.

At this, both of you turn to the screen, watching as the timer ticks down for the second photo. “Leehan, you just ruined our first photo!” you complain, but your boyfriend remains smiling. “Listen, buddy, this is a collaborative effort. Let’s think of a pose for the second photo. Come on, please?”

Leehan laughs to himself at how cute you are for taking this so seriously. “Okay, fine, fine,” he finally gives in to your pleading. “Come here.” Bringing you closer, he wraps an arm around you. His hand on your waist is a warm brand against your skin, and you ignore the shiver that goes through you. But when he tightens his hold, you instinctively giggle. 

“Leehan, not this pose, I’m ticklish there.” You try to wriggle out of his grasp, but he just pulls you in closer until his body is pressed right against yours. He’s facing straight at the camera, but you can see the corner of his lips curling up. You suddenly have an foreboding feeling that he’s up to no good—then he gives your waist another squeeze, right where you’re most ticklish.

“Ahh!” You squeal, thrashing in his grip. Leehan, devil that he is, laughs at your plight and starts to purposely tickle your sides to get a reaction out of you. He’s too strong—you’re subjected to practically the worst (and most evil!!!) tickle attack you’ve ever experienced in your life. As you wriggle around in an attempt to escape, the shutter goes off once again: two shots gone down the drain, two more to go. “Kim Leehan, if you don’t stop teasing me-” you begin to warn him, but you lose all train of thought when you notice the position you’ve ended up in.

Leehan’s got both arms wrapped around your waist. You can literally count the number of lashes your boyfriend’s got—it’s unfair how he’s got these pretty, long doll lashes that ghost his cheekbones every time he has his eyes shut. You’re so close that you can feel his breath on your lips as he looks down at you with an unreadable expression on his face. Your eyes trail down his gorgeous doe eyes, to the slope of his straight nose, to his plush, kissable lips—wait, what?

Your thoughts are all but interrupted as Leehan leans in and steals your breath with a tender kiss. One hand shifts from your waist to your cheek, gently cradling your face in his palm. His other hand remains on your waist, drawing you nearer, and you practically melt into his strong arms. Trailing your hands over his back, you sigh into the kiss as your pliant lips move against his. You’re so absorbed in the kiss that you don’t hear the camera go off another time. You feel so safe in his arms, and kissing him makes you feel lightheaded with happiness—happiness that you’re this close to him, someone you care dearly for, and that you’re able to share this intimate moment with him.

When you finally pull apart, you’re panting for air. Leehan is staring at you with a similarly dazed expression, eyes glazed over. You’re looking into each other’s eyes for a quiet moment, sharing equally shy glances. Leehan’s got that expression where he’s suppressing a wide grin, his dimples peeking out. That’s when the final shutter goes off, and you’re snapped out of your stupor—then you suddenly realize what you actually came here for. “Leehan, the pictures!”

“Oh. Right.” Leehan looks positively unapologetic. “I forgot." You clearly both did. A whirring sound comes from the machine, and you both turn around to see the finished prints drop out. When you step over and hold up the photo strips, you gasp with shame. 

“Oh my god!” The first photo is you fuming at Leehan while he looks at you longingly. The second photo is a blur of arms, but you can distinguish both your bright smiles as you flail around—yours out of ticklishness, and Leehan’s out of pleasure at your misfortune. 

The third photo is one that makes your cheeks flush a fiery red. Leehan and you are wrapped up in a kiss—nothing R-Rated, but still utterly humiliating to have been captured in a phootbooth no less. You look down to the fourth and last one, and here, you’re both gazing at each other with bashful smiles on your faces. The most embarrassing thing about it all is how because of the design Leehan's chosen, it looks like you're making out in a sea of poor marine creatures who most likely did not consent to watching a private show.

As cute as this is, you probably can’t display this in your room. “Jesus, these are ruined. We should take them again,” you exhale, already regretting the amount of money you’re spending on some silly, unimportant photos. But Leehan stops you, taking the photo strips from you and surveying them carefully. 

“What do you mean? I think they came out great.” Leehan pauses, considering his next words, carefully monitoring your reaction. Then what he says next stuns you: “... We look like we’re in love.”

Your heart clenches at this. It’s true—you and Leehan look like you’re in your own little world. “We do,” you concede. “Okay. Let’s keep this.”

[coralinnii]

Leaving a kiss mark on him…and how long did it take for him to realize  feat: Kalim · Cater · Idia · Rook  genre: fluff note: not gender-specific reader (everyone is allowed to wear lipstick), no pronouns, established relationships,

Me: I have to study, I have mountains of assignments and projects to do! *hides in tumblr to avoid study anxiety* can I just fail my classes and say I tried? T_T

I'm starting to enjoy Rook mostly cuz I can go ham with the romantic words or as Idia would probably call it "cringe worthy crap"

Until recess, when Jamil points it out

This ball of sunshine is too  giddy in your presence to notice anything. How do you expect him to pay attention to anything when you’re laughing and chatting with him before the start of class. The two of you parted ways with Kalim having a big grin on his face, never realizing you left an obvious imprint on your love on his cheek. 

Kalim would never think that the loud chattering in the hallways were about him, ignorant of the stares of the other students as he waves to them happily. Some whispered how embarrassing it must be if he ever finds out, some muttered what a lucky b*stard he was. 

Said lucky b*stard stayed oblivious even in class as no one felt the need to risk being called out in class by informing the white-haired Housewarden. Trein of course saw the mark on the boy but kept silent over it, deciding to let young love be. 

The kiss mark was finally brought to Kalim’s attention when he met with Jamil in the cafeteria, the vice Housewarden shocked by the image but soon replaced with an exasperated sigh. Jamil pulled out a compact mirror (I’m 110% sure Jamil is the type to carry one) and pointed to the Asim heir’s cheek.

Kalim was ecstatic at what he saw and why wouldn’t he? His beautiful treasure just left a cute reminder on his cheek and just seeing the mark makes him remember your kiss which makes him giddy once more. 

Jamil had to practically fight Kalim to wipe the kiss mark off his face. He can’t let the Asim family find out their oldest son was walking around with such an embarrassing appearance. 

But Jamil isn’t gonna have a break from this as Kalim would just run back to you and ask you to leave your mark on him once more. 

“Come on, do it again! Please~? It doesn’t have to be on my cheek this time!”

As soon as he check his reflection in his phone

The extrovert he is, Cater is not going to say no to some PDA. His Magicam has been filling up with cute pictures of you two, whether it’d be on your dates or a quick selfie before class. 

For this selfie, you decided to land a smooch on your boyfriend’s cheek as he takes his daily selfie pic. Once Cater was done posting the uber cute memory with you, the two of you split from each other towards your respective classes. 

Despite his itchy hands, Cater knows better than to mess with his phone during lessons. Unlike Kalim however, he definitely picked up the weird looks sent his way and the whispers behind his back. His ability to read the room hints to him that the whispering wasn't of malice intent or anything negative but he knows it pertains to him. 

Once the bell rang, the redhead immediately picked up his phone and caught something in the reflection of the darkened screen. Was there something on his face? 

Opening his camera app, he finally saw the hot topic in the classroom, the cheeky little mark you left on him. 

You would think the easygoing student would laugh over the cute gesture, maybe tease you later on your bold expression of love. You’d be partially right. 

You caught him by surprise. His face will be dusted with a reddish hue as he inspects a mark on his face in addition to his diamond mark. He had to cover the lower half of his face with his hand to hide the goofy smile blooming on his lips. A genuine, not Magicam perfect smile. This is beyond cute, it’s downright adorable in all the best ways with messy lipstick smudges and all. 

But yes, he will absolutely tease you about this little souvenir you left him. He even sent a new selfie on Magicam showing off your handiwork and tagging you right on the mark. He was just lucky Riddle didn’t catch him with your mark on him. 

“Aren’t me and my bae just #couplegoals? Hope you ain’t jelly~” 

Would have never noticed if not for Ortho 

Idia would never allow PDA, nope never. He isn’t the type of guy that wants to show off his relationship. It’s not that he’s embarrassed by you, of course not! But he’s more of a lowkey guy that rather show his love in the comforts of his or your room. 

Which was why he was happy to receive a loving kiss from you before you leave his room to head to your classes. But Idia was gonna send his tablet off as usual while he laid back in the safety of his room. 

As stated, this man would have gone the whole day without realizing what you did. He gets into the zone once he starts his gaming session. He is also not the type to really check himself in the mirror if he goes to the bathroom, only doing the bare minimum in there and then going right back to his video games. 

It wasn’t until Ortho came by to check up on his brother did he finally take notice of his appearance. 

“Brother, what’s that on your cheek?” 

Confused, Idia reached for his phone and opened the rarely used camera app on his phone (only used for you and cats) and shrieked when he saw your little present clear as day on his pale face. 

How could you do this to him? How could you do something this embarrassing to this weak man?? It was a damn good thing he didn’t leave his room or he could never leave this down. What if someone other than Ortho showed up at his door, like one of his dormmates? 

He quickly commanded his tablet to locate you, bringing you to a secluded place then screaming at you for your sneaky trick. His throat hurting from the amount of talking and yelling he has done, more than he has in a while

But when you asked him if he really didn’t like it, Idia turned quiet real quick. You can’t just corner him with a kill shot question like that. 

Seriously, you’re gonna give him a heart attack.

“It’s not that I don’t like it, you just can’t just do things like that out of the blue! H-huh, you’re asking when can you do it, then?!”

The moment you did it

You think Rook wouldn’t notice? The man who not only has amazing senses but also the right hand man to Vil who has taught him the skills of makeup application? One look at your lips (and of course, he has looked) and he can tell if the product is smudge-proof or not.

The moment your lips graced his cheek, he could feel the residue of your lipstick left on his sensitive skin. Judging by the smile on your face, he knew you were intentional with your marking and was proud of it. 

What a trickster you are, was this your way of marking your man? Making sure everyone is aware that the vice Housewarden is spoken for? How beautifully devilish of you. 

Before you could escape, Rook captured you in his arms with a coy smile on his face. 

“My dear Trickster, how sneaky of you to try to leave your lovely mark on me. But, I've noticed you weren’t wearing smudge-proof lipstick today. You would have to do better than that~” 

You pouted, hoping you could at least be out of your hunter’s line of sight before he called you out. Leave it to him to notice the most minuscule of things, you suppose.

“You didn’t try to stop me, though?” you questioned suspiciously, your so-called keen boyfriend letting you attack him so easily. 

He simply responded to you with a bright smile on his face, “How could I ever deny my beautiful beloved? For you, I surrender myself to your whims of love for I am but a weak prey ensnared by your beauty” 

You left more kiss marks on this crazy poet of a man 

“To be graced with your lips, a show of loving passion bestowed only to me…I am a helpless fool to my lover”

[princemick]

THE KING’S HONOUR

16+, Released August 4 2024, 2h 11m, Action/Adventure/Romance/Comedy/Fantasy

Commander of the Kingsguard, Aonghus (Michael Schumacher) finds himself as Acting Regent when King Conall (Mika Häkkinen) falls to a curse in battle. Unable to search for a cure himself as the kingdom threatens to fall to outside threats and inner political schemes, he sends out his second in command, Fiachra (Lewis Hamilton) to find a way to save his king.

Where To Watch:

Rent The King’s Honour on Fandango at Home, Prime Video, Apple TV, or buy it on Fandango at Home, Prime Video, Apple TV.

Critics Consensus

Once you get past the horrendously unrealistic costuming, The King’s Honour becomes an admittedly predictable, but humorous, effortless evening watch.

Read Critics Reviews.

Critics Reviews View All (132)

Damon Hill TOP CRITIC

Newsweek

There are worse crimes than fan service but at least do it with a bit more effort and skill than this. 

Rated 1.5/5 | Aug 2 2024 Full Review

Will Buxton TOP CRITIC

Common Sense Media

To save the king, you must first break the curse. A very compact and concise film, but weak on the soundtrack and dialogue. Too many unnecessary monologues.

Rated 3/5 | Aug 4 2024 Full Review

Jenson Button TOP CRITIC

Vogue

Knocked off half a star because no one took their shirts off. Unrealistic. Some of those shirts were far too flowy not to have an ‘accidental’ nip slip.

Rated 4.5/5 | Aug 6 2024 Full Review

Audience Reviews View All (1500+)

Alexanderrr

new comfort movie unlocked i think

Rated 4.5/5 | Aug 23 2024

Prost

My husband spent half our date night bitching abaout every single thing he hated about this film. He always fucks better when he is angry so thank you.

Rated 4/5 | Aug 19 2024

George Russell

Well, that was truly delightful! The cast has amazing chemistry. Both between the lead mains and all the side characters! This is a film that knows what it is (and is not ashamed about it!): a light-hearted film that never takes itself too seriously, but manages not to become a satirical parod…

Rated 5/5 | Sep 5 2024 Full Review

----------------------------------------

The King’s Honour

16+ | Magical Realism, Historical Fiction, Romance | Directed by Niki Lauda

This is a truly a soulless and uninspired chickenshit explotation of queerness and the use of fantastical elements in a desperate attempt to prop up a flailing script that falls flat. Calling this ‘magical realism’ is an insult to Gabriel García Márquez’s memory.

Every single element of this film is subpar at best, lacking in colour and substance and a solid foundation of existence. While one would think the landscape the film is shot in, the Scotland highlands, would improve the viewing, but somehow the cinematography is so terrible, it is just another way everything and everyone gets lost. It is a backdrop of breathtaking opportunity and they don’t simply drop the ball but not even bother to pick it up. There is little to no directional awareness in the camera work and the script and the honestly incoherent cinematic flow of this piece. There is not even a NOD to authenticity of any kind, even on a satirical level as that would require a modiqum of thought not seen here.

I could not call this a categorical fail at hubris because I truly can not fathom what Lauda was aiming for here in this production. If someone held a gun to by head and told me to guess the director of this film correctly, my husband would be receiving my life insurance payout in the morning. How the mighty have fallen.

Everyone is a take away from a cigarette break, a sudden career exit, or at some points, a cliff’s face. And in knowing this, it is the only way I feel even remotely connected to what I see on screen.

By ARYTON SENNA

Sort By (BEST)       COMMENTS

James Hunt | 3 days ago

I feel fucking exhausted just reading this review. Chill the fuck out and smell the flowers, mate.

Esteban | 5 days ago

Woah.

Sebastian Vettel | 1 week ago

Framing this and putting it up on my fridge. Thank you!

-----------------------------

POPULAR REVIEWS MORE

Review by oscar ★★★★★ ♡ 🗨21

loved it yeah. schumacher’s pussy was OUT OUT so you know. cheers. and i Respect häkkinen’s dedication to serving face even while comatose. but like. it wasn’t very realistic because how in the fuck did no one shove the guy coulthard plays off a tower he was soooo annoying. took me out of the movie a bit can’t lie

❤ 5,581 likes

Review by Mick ★★★ 🗨19

A very funny film! Makes me want to go to Scotland! And I’m not just saying that because my Dad’s in it haha. :) Not his best work though :( 

❤ 1,647 likes

Review by Alonso ★ 🗨14

Schumacher ran over my dog and didn’t even stop. If any of you even care.

❤ 1,400 likes

@hypersoft-fest Week 1 Collab with @milflewis: Movie review + Historical Regency and Magical Realism

[wpdarlingpan]

Snow Falls… In Love

Part 2 ❄️

Yandere Coriolanus Snow x Innocent!Reader

Female Prounouns

Word Count: 2k

Summary: an innocent girl from district 12 is Coriolanus Snow’s tribute. She wins the capitals heart through her love and kind eyes. Now he never wants to let her go, she was his tribute. At first it was admiration, but not it’s grown into something bigger. Love.

Warnings: obsessive behavior, mentions of murder, normal hunger games warnings, self-deprecation

Click which part you’d like to read below! ❄️

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 (Finale)

The kiss they shared was monumental for Coriolanus. It was as if every puzzle piece fell into place for him. His confidence overruled the idea of Y/N getting murdered in the games the next day.

But that’s all she could think about.

Y/N adored Corio, after all he’d done to keep her alive and favored it was impossible not to. It was difficult for her to process that fact she found someone this special but she would soon die in the games.

“Corio, I-“ she spoke before cutting herself off, figuring out the best way to say it. “I don’t want you to think I have a chance in that arena. Hope is a dangerous thing.”

Coriolanus was silent, staring into her eyes intently as he moved to grab her chin with a firm grip.

“You are going to get out of that arena. The other mentors? Their focus is on making their opponents strong. They will look past simple solutions in favor of brute strength. You will get out of this because of you are your strengths, agility and wits.” He never looked away, not even for a second. He didn’t even let go until he thought he got his point across.

Y/N hesitated but nodded as he goes to hand her a compact case before stopping.

“What is this?” She questions at his hesitation. Not because it’s his mother’s but because he was afraid she open it or something before he could explain. He would never put her in harms way.

“Do not open it until absolutely necessary. Do not smell it or even touch it util that point. Even just a little of it could kill you.”

Y/N understood that he wanted to ensure she’d have a weapon within moments of the timer starting. She nodded as he continued to talk about a hiding space.

“Thank you Corio, thank you for everything you’ve done to keep me alive.” Tears gathered in her eyes, silently falling as he wiped them.

“This isn’t goodbye, I will see you when you win the games. I will see you everyday when I wake up and at the end when I fall asleep.“ Coriolanus leaned in and kissed her softly as he wiped her tears with a plain handkerchief before he retreated back to his house. Not home because he truly believed his home was with you.

~*~

Coriolanus watched the games reluctantly, the blood spilled seem to engulf the screen. He stared at the screen holding Y/N.

The second the countdown stopped they were off. Y/N turned around in fear to see a spear being thrown towards her as she attempted to duck out of the way, but it still managed to cut her arm causing her to whimper in pain.

Yet It didn’t stop her as she ran into the vents, it the hiding place snow suggested but good enough. She was even able to lock it before anyone could notice.

The battle outside was loud. The clangs of metal crashing echoes through the arena. The sounds of screams and grunts as someone’s life vanished in mere moments.

Meanwhile Coriolanus was internally on edge. It wouldn’t show through his poised posture or the indifferent look on his face but the way his heart was beating faster.

There were no cameras in the vents much to Lucky Flickerman’s despair and promises to add one next year.

By sundown there was nearly half of the tributes left.

It was late at night and dark in the arena, most of the tributes were sleeping or staying in their hiding spots since it was dangerous to go out in the dark.

That’s when Sejanus snuck in. He saw the way they hung up his friend from the districts. The torture he went through while he was living lavishly in the capital with his daddy’s money.

To which he used to give his friend a proper District 2 send off.

Unluckily or luckily for Coriolanus it was his responsibility to get him out.

~*~

Y/N peaked out the vent when she heard talking. A voice sounded familiar but with how far away they were it was hard to tell for sure.

Corio couldn’t pass up this opportunity so as his friend gathered himself, he ran up to the vent.

Y/N was on edge until she saw the face of Coriolanus Snow.

The tears instantly began running as she went to along it but be stopped her.

“I have to get out of here. I’m not supposed to be here. But I had to see you, I couldn’t leave without hearing your voice in person. I’m sorry I can’t get you out.” He reached through the vent the best he could and they held hands. “There’s significantly less tributes left from earlier. Your chances are bettering Y/N, now it’s time for you to believe in yourself.”

“I will be okay, I will see you later Corio.” Y/N spoke as her voice wavered. Would she? She didn’t know. But she couldn’t bring herself to fully find comfort in his words.”

“See you later my love.” Corio spoke without truly thinking of the implication of the pet name but couldn’t find himself to be bothered as him and Sejanus ran out of the arena, no other tributes even hearing the sound of the gates closing for the last time until the winner was announced.

~*~

Y/N had begun to sneak out of the vent at night to stretch her legs. Risky but necessary after spending days sitting down in the vent, her breathing silent as tributes would walk by, not sparing even a glance at the vent.

That was until one did notice.

Y/N got out of the vent on the third night, pushing the door open quietly as she stepped out on alert.

What she didn’t know though was there was someone else in that part of the arena. They were crouched in a corner, blending into the shadows the best they could at the orders of Coral.

Tanner got up slowly, reaching to grab his weapon, before running at Y/N.

She heard the rocks cracking beneath his feet before she turned to the noise. His sickle was raised high, a battle cry falling from his mouth as he swung right at Y/N. She dodged it.

That was until she lost her balance and slipped down the slanted rocks.

~*~

Coriolanus was the only one left at the viewing auditorium. He watched closely as Y/N was crawling out of the vents.

He looked around the frames of the arena, checking peoples positions to ensure the safety of his tribute.

That’s when he saw Tanner.

Corio watched in apprehension as tanner ran at her. He was hitting buttons on the keypad urgently, looking for anything to help her after the whole faulty drones thing.

But what else could be done?

~*~

Y/N felt her head slam onto a rock, leaving only a concussion hopefully due to the lack of blood.

Tanner made his way down, almost making a game of cat and mouse out of the chase as he slowly lurked closer.

Y/N pushed her self up even with the disagreement of her head as she went to run before feeling a slight weight in her pocket. Reaching into her pocket as she kept an eye on him, she got ahold of the little ‘gift’ from Corio.

The second Tanner got closer Y/N open the container and blew the entire contents into his face before throwing the container to the center to keep her hands free in case it doesn’t work.

Nothing happened… at first.

Then he collapsed as blood drained from his nose.

Coriolanus watched as Tanner’s feed cut with a look of admiration at Y/N’s ability to defend herself. Because that’s what he saw it as, self-defense.

Y/N saw it as murder. She knew what was going to happen. It was between the two of them. They wouldn’t make friendship bracelets and stop fighting. This was life or death, she had to make her choice. The feeling of the poison in her hand made her decision for her as it brought a familiar blonde to the front of her mind.

But it didn’t make it hurt any less as she watched the light fade from his eyes before shutting them. A quiet promise of hoping he had a better time in the next life before shutting herself in the vent.

With the Rebels attacks increasing, Volumnia Gaul decided the game was over. There was no chance for a Victor. They all would die.

This was not something Coriolanus took into account.

He ran as fast as he could before stopping at the entrance of the doctors building.

Coriolanus had to make a plan… and fast.

~*~

Y/N and the others heard the commotion of something landing in the arena, followed by the sound of crunching underneath it. It was dangerous but they all inched forward as Y/N got out of the vent, watching from afar. Of course she was curious but it was the capital. There was no influence she could have but only hope for the odds and they never seemed to be in her favor.

Wovey was the first to get close

“Is it done? Can we go home?” Tears built in the little girls eyes.

The item began cracking before a sea of snake engulfed the girl like a wave upon an ocean pulling her under the tides.

All of the tributes screamed as they attempted to run for safety. There was just too many snakes, the bites would slow them down before their inevitable death due to the amount of venom flooding their system.

It was down to Coral and Y/N.

Y/N had stayed up by the vent and watched as Coral attempted to reach her but was stopped by the snakes wrapping around her arms and legs.

Then there was one.

Y/N didn’t move, maybe if she didn’t run they wouldn’t be alarmed and kill her? Maybe they would go right past. But that was hope, and she would be hypocritical to have it.

The snakes circled up her arms and legs as Y/N urged herself to calm down. This was her last few moments and she only waited for the inevitable pain of stinging bites resonating throughout her body.

It never happened.

They just slithered around her, coiling themselves as if to comfort.

~*~

Everyone was confused on why the snakes attacked everyone else but Y/N. It didn’t make sense until Coriolanus spoke up

“She calms them! You saw how empathetic she was in the interview” he looked around to see the nodding heads as he hid a smirk “They won’t hurt her. Let her out!”

Tigress yelled to let her out as well. She saw what Y/N was doing to her cousin and she couldn’t imagine what would happen if he lost her.

This brought the crowd to a chant.

Then finally, the games were over.

“The Victor of the 10th annual Hunger Games is… Y/N L/N!” Lucky announced the winner as the room cheered. Corio only talked to Tigress and Sejanus before rushing out of the room to find his love.

After all, there was no proof he cheated.

The compact was shattered upon impact with the snake container.

The white handkerchief had been deemed a tributes.

There was no evidence Coriolanus Snow and Y/N L/N cheated in the games. It was only their secret.

They say love is a weakness.

Especially in the Hunger Games.

But it made the two of them stronger. It was the two of them against the world from the start.

Snow fell in love, but what would it take to keep her with him?

The world may never know

Until the last and final part of their love story.

~*~

Note: Hey Everyone! I hope I did you guys justice with how much you liked the first part. I appreciate all the love and it greatly inspired me to write and finish this story. I know there wasn’t much fluff in this chapter but this plot had to be told.

I will be publishing a part 3 ❄️

Taglist: @diannana @olivetree420

[bywons]

CRIMES COMMITTED AGAINST WOMEN, ITS HER FAULT?

RG KAR MEDICAL COLLEGE&HOSPITAL, THE HEINOUS ACTS

NOTE: THIS POST HAS INFO SOLELY BASED ON MY OWN RESEARCH, SOURCES FROM THE NEWS AND INTERNET SO CREDS OF SS TO THE OWNERS. if you have any other information regarding this case, please please do feel free to reblog this and share them, as i can't compile everything in one post due to the case being an ongoing one. I would appreciate if you could read all of it, I tried to keep it short and compact and easy enough for everyone to understand. Of course, I have to keep a few names and specific political parties and critism out of this for obvious reasons of this post being taken down, but trust me, karma is real.

Do tell me if I lack anything, will try my best to add it or make another post about it. WE WANT JUSTICE.

01 TAKE HER NAME, DON'T FORGET HER

Dr. Moumita Debnath, a junior female doctor, a 2nd year PGT at R G KAR medical college and hospital was gang r4ped and m4rdered in the college seminar hall, while she was in a 36 hr shift, in 9th of August, 2024, Kolkata.

R G KAR, a reputed college and hospital, only allowing the top of brains to enter its premises, has now lost it's name to this heinous crime. Moumita debnath's perpetrators live to this day and the college authorities are yet to pay any heed. Why?

That poor girl was bleeding from her eyes, vagina, with disfigured limbs and broken collarbones, bite marks, broken pelvic girdle and hyoid bone several other signs of struggle and violence ( attached report below ) Even her legs were forcefully coaxed apart, that her bones were broken. 150 gms of sperm was have been discovered from her body, when a male individual can only transfer a maximum of 15 gms. Can you imagine her pain? What did she do to deserve this pain and suffering, this heinous crime against her? Can you imagine how her parents must have felt to hear the news?

Oh, I forgot. This absolute blood boiling, gut wrenching and demonic of an act was immediately announced as a "SU3CIDE" upon initial FIR, and to her parents, by authorities. Can't you see? How they tried to coarctate the matter by calling it a su3cide?

How can a girl with extreme signs of violence and r4pe on her body, with little to no clothes, broken limbs, bleeding eyes, commit a su4cide? THIS IS A BLOT ON THE AUTHORITIES WHO ARE CLEARING VIEWING THIS MATTER AS A JOKE no girl in that condition can commit a su3cide, do you really think people are THAT DUMB?? that we won't notice you trying to cover up this case??

02 TAMPER THE EVIDENCE, HIDE THE CRIMINAL

Dr. Moumita Debnath's body was cremated without her parents' approval/permission. They were kept waiting for 3 fucking hours. As if to get rid of her body as soon as they can with minimal autopsy, before CBI could even start investigation.

As soon as this case was handed over from WBPD ( west bengal police department ) to CBI ( central bereau of intelligence ) mobs have barged in and LITERALLY DAMAGED THE WALLS BESIDE THE SEMINAR HALL ( the crime scene ) inside the college premises. And for what? Come on we know it all, for removal of some obvious evidence.

On 14th august, during the middle of the night which was during the ‘RAAT DOKHOLE MEYERA’ ( girls reclaim the night ) rally, in RG KAR, mobs yet again managed to infiltrate the college premises to cause damage again, this time targeting specific cctv cameras as well. They also vandalised public property and vehicles in a "profesional" way. — “MBBS student Anupam Roy, an eyewitness to the mob attack, said the mob's act was deliberate with the clandestine motive of ending their agitation.” — from Hindustan Times.

They even CAUSED HARM TO THE WASHROOMS OF THE FLOOR WHERE EVIDENCE COULD'VE BEEN FOUND. The motive of the mob is obvious— to tamper the evidence in order to protect the perpetrators.

03. POLITICS BEFORE BASIC LAW & ORDER?

Political parties are busy blaming each other and throwing dirt on names, meanwhile also trying to hide the perpetrators and start protests against opposition parties. Is your political position and meaningless arguments more valuable than a girl's life which been lost so brutally? Can we not keep politics aside, just for a moment and try to bring the girl justice? These thick skinned selfish monsters don't feel the pain of her parents, the emotions of helpless women and the crime they're commiting themselves.

They are slowly shifting away from the main matter of bringing her justice, trying to coarctate is slowly by heavy politics. Well the public is not dumb, we can see it all and understand how our CM doesn't even care about this situation.

SHAME ON YOU, the authorities, you're are only hope in this city in this state and you're acting this way?! Do you not have spines? Is money and votes everything to you? How low is too low and why is it the west bengal government?

They even have an accused suspect in custody ( Sanjoy Roy ) whom everybody is calling a scapegoat, which he possibly could be regarding the governments recent inactivities towards the situation. They are even giving out orders to resist rallies and protests, such a fucking disgrace, cause then vandalism and tampering of evidence is right but not raising your voice against it?

04. HAPPY INDEPENDENCE?

This year marks the 77th independent year for India, but are we really? Women are not safe at night walking along the streets their own ancestors fought for, women are not safe in their own workplace working shifts, women are not safe in public transport, in their homes, neighbourhood, schools, colleges, NOWHERE ARE WE ALLOWED TO HAVE A PEACEFUL BREATHE. But for how long? It's been 12 years since we witnessed a similar, horrible and atrocious crime as NIRBHAYA, only for it to happen again. This shows how weak, corrupted, and unjust Indian judiciary system has become, and as an Indian myself, it ashames me deeply to admit this. We are failing as a society, still not being able to create a safe environment for our women.

But time has come now to raise our voice and fists together against this oppressive, corrupt government and snatch our own freedom ourselves. DONT YOU EVER FORGET ABOUT HER, TAKE AND HER NAME AND PROMISE YOURSELF TO BRING HER JUSTICE. If we forget and give up, god knows how many others will die like this without any justice. Justice is ours and we will have it, there is no point of being 'independent' if we have to do candle marches every other day, mourn for our women every other day, be scared of letting our daughter out every other day.

This is time, we rise up as one.

We want the actual criminals to be punished a hundred times more cruelly than Dr. Moumita Debnath was k!lied.

WE WANT JUSTICE. BRUTAL PUNISHMENT TO THE CRIMINALS.

ALL EYES ON RG KAR. ALL EYES ON DOCTORS. JUSTICE FOR MOUMITA DEBNATH.

tagging few of my moots. @leaderwon @rainytapestry @fertilizedtoesw @atrirose @hoonvrs @flwrstqr @mioons @dioll @okwonyo @okwons @heeblurs @weoris @junislqve @jlheon @sainns @hyeinism @fleurre @soov @isoobie @boyfhee @jjunae @onlyjjong @wonfilms @kissofhoon @voikiraz @koishua

[techdriveplay]

Best Drones for Beginners

Venturing into the world of drones can be both exciting and daunting. With a wide array of options available, choosing the right drone for a beginner is crucial. This guide aims to simplify that process by highlighting the best drones for beginners, ensuring your first flight is smooth and enjoyable. In 2024, the global drone market is valued at over USD 22 billion, with a projected annual…

[fushic0re]

𝐉𝐉𝐊 𝐌𝐄𝐍 ─ 𝐎𝐍𝐋𝐘𝐅𝐀𝐍𝐒

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 ─ who out of the jujutsu kaisen men would have an onlyfans account + what their content would consist of.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 ─ 18+ ONLY; MINORS DNI. smut: masturbation, use of sexy toys, penetrative sex, rough sex, oral (male & female receiving), size kink, shibari, degradation, slapping, humiliation kink, dirty talk.

꒰ ͜͡➸ 𝐈𝐅 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐄𝐍𝐉𝐎𝐘𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐘, 𝐏𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐄 𝐆𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐈𝐓 𝐀 𝐑𝐄𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐆! 𝐑𝐄𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐒 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒❜ 𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃 & 𝐁𝐔𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑! ♡

-ˏˋ 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 ˊˎ˗

This pretty little rich boy isn’t even in it for the money, he just loves the attention. Satoru knows he’s attractive and basks in the stares and whispers from passersby. A woman at a club jokingly suggested that he should have an Onlyfans account (after sucking his dick in the bathroom mind you) and a lightbulb went off in his head. That night he went home, set up his account, and made his first post; a late night video of him in bed stroking his cock languidly. The clip was short, but just enough to make people want more. next thing you know, he’s skyrocketing in subscribers.

Satoru’s content consists of him using the numerous toys subscribers have bought for him from fleshlights and vibrating cockrings. He’s best known for how pretty he is, but also how equally as pretty his cock is. When you come into the picture, if you’re okay with it, he starts including you in some of his content. He first teases his audience with a video of your pretty little hand wrapped around his dick, stroking it expertly as bursts of cum are released. That quickly escalates to videos of the two of you fucking in a series of public places.

Muffled whines and low pants fill the compact dressing room as Satoru ruts into you from behind. One hand is tightly clamped over your mouth, the other is rubbing tight circles on your clit. You look back at him over your shoulder with pleading eyes, begging for mercy. Your pleasure is soon obstructed by fear at the sound of a knock on the door.

“Is everything alright ma’am?”

A wicked grin stretches across your lover’s face. He removes his hand from your mouth and gives the lobe of your ear an encouraging nibble.

“Y-yes!” You call out to the attendant on the other side of the door, trying your absolute best to not sound as fucked out as you felt. “The skirt is just…a bit tighter than I thought.”

“Oh! No worries, I’ll be right back with another size!”            

“Atta girl.” Satoru purrs against your cheek. “Now look into the camera and cum before the nice saleslady comes back.”

-ˏˋ 𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈 𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎 ˊˎ˗

This man can FUCK. And he knows he can fuck, so really deciding to make a couple’s Onlyfans isn’t out of the blue. The two of you already had a small personal collection of sex tapes. Toji liked to have a reminder of you whenever a job was taking longer than expected and he had to be away from you. While watching one of his favorites, he shoots you a text:

Toji ♡ we could make a shit ton of money from this

You know this man is all about his money. And so, you do. Your account is completely secret and you never show your faces, Toji’s body alone is enough to reign in the masses. He channels his resourcefulness as an assassin through Shibari – the main selling point of your account. You and Toji’s content consists of him tying you up in various positions and fucking you in them.  The audience thoroughly enjoys seeing his rippling muscles flex. They love how his hands look as they tug and loop rope around your body. The more intricate the binding, the better. Bonus points if the rope being used is red. Fans have offered to send you both different colors of rope, but Toji is too possessive to see your beautiful body wrapped in something that he didn’t buy. Truthfully, he’d much rather die.

Tears gently kiss your cheeks as Toji’s cock repeatedly hits the back of your throat. Your body is bare, bound and suspended in the air. The man grips the ropes on either side of you for leverage, effectively fucking your mouth. Gruff grunts and groans escape his lips as he uses you freely.

“Look at me. That’s my fucking good girl. Look how fucking pretty you look.”

You gasp sharply when he suddenly pulls away, leaving you jaw slacked and panting for oxygen. He studies your feeble expression before deeply chuckling, circling around you. The blunt tip of the head of his dick prods at your entrance.

“Now be a good little fuck doll for me.”

With one fluent thrust of his hips, he sheaths himself inside of you.

-ˏˋ 𝐑𝐘𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐍 𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀 ˊˎ˗

Let’s be fucking real, this man was only enticed into the prospect of an Onlyfans because it meant more people got to witness him humiliating his little slut. The man is a sadist. Nothing makes his dick harder than the masses watching you get fucked to the brink of passing out, drooling mindlessly. It’s as simple as that.

Your body aggressively jerks around on the bed as Sukuna jackhammers in and out of you at a grueling pace. Two long tattooed fingers are in your mouth, holding it wide open. You can’t even recognize the noises you’re making, they’re more pornographic than anything your body has ever produced. The camera is focused on your fucked out expression. Just as your eyes begin to roll back into your skull and the white of eyes peek out, Sukuna lays a sharp slap to your cheek. He tugs at the belt wrapped around your throat.

“Aw pet, you’re drooling all over yourself.” He coos condescending, removing his fingers from your mouth and smearing your saliva across your lips and cheeks. “Can you at least use that dumb baby brain to tell everyone how good you’re getting fucked?”

Incoherent whines are all you manage to get out. Sukuna roars with laughter, enjoying every second of your indignity.

-ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐇𝐈𝐓𝐎 ˊˎ˗

Okay hear me out; modern day Mahito who is a broke philosophy major in need of extra income. He already gets a lot of attention on social media thanks to his unique style and appearance and eccentric personality, why not capitalize off of it for his betterment? Besides, he already has the perfect little thing to play with – you. Your Onlyfans account isn’t anything out of the ordinary. It mainly consists of immaculately shot footage of Mahito fucking you, the sun somehow shining on the both of you perfectly. He garnered a lot of his subscribers, mostly women, from the abundance of videos of him eating your pussy like it was his last meal.

There was no sight prettier than your Mahito in between your legs, gazing up at you with those heterochromia eyes like you hung the stars in the sky. His lips were glistening with your arousal as they wrapped around your clit, suckling on it as he curled the two fingers inside of you upward.

“Baby!” You cry, tangling your hands into his pale aquamarine locks.

He giggles into your cunt, pulling his fingers out and licking a stripe from your slit to your clit. His tongue finds its way back to your entrance. Mahito fucks you with the muscle before sitting up and hiking your legs up onto his shoulders. The camera now has an idyllic shot of Mahtio’s muscled torso, the black ink of his barbwire tattoos contrasting beautifully against his porcelain skin. He grabs his cock with one hand and taps it against your glistening nub teasingly before guiding himself inside of you.

“Oh fuck, pretty girl. You have the best fucking pussy.”

-ˏˋ𝐀𝐎𝐈 𝐓𝐎𝐃𝐎 ˊˎ˗

Aoi is a simple man; you’re attractive, he’s attractive, and you both just so happen to be in a sexually active relationship – why not show off? This big boy is whipped™️ with a capital W, so if Onlyfans was your idea he agreed without hesitation. He will give you things before you even ask for them because you’re his baby and he loves you. Speaking of showing off, Aoi has the strength of a thousand suns and it’s no secret that he enjoys flaunting his power. That being said, the selling point of your Onlyfans account is obviously size kink. Aoi can fuck you in positions that are seemingly only possible in professional porn. Your man is an Adonis who can do anything. Nothing is off limits.

Your legs are hooked on the crook of Aoi’s arms as he bounces you up and down his thick member. Your hands grip the nape of his neck desperately. High pitched cries escape your lips with each slam of his cock. All you can do is hold on to your lover and take it. He sets the pace. You’re at mercy to his pleasure.

“Take it, babygirl. That’s it.” He growls.

He’s completely in the zone, staring at you like a frenzied Great White shark that just got a whiff of blood in the ocean. Without unsheathing you from his cock, he effortlessly flips you around and pressed your legs up until your ankles are kissing your ears, effectively folding you in half – all while still standing.

“Ready for the grand finale, baby?”

𝐇𝐎𝐍𝐑𝐀𝐁𝐋𝐄 𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍.... -ˏˋ 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔 𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎 ˊˎ˗

I have lots of mixed feelings on our dear Suguru. If he ever agreed to create an Onlyfans account with you, it would only be after lots and lots of thinking and rationalizing. He would take months to weigh the pros and cons before coming to a decision. You wouldn’t even be regular uploaders, to be honest. Your account is more of an “if we’re horny and feel like recording, then we’ll record” type of account.

© all rights reserved to honeystevie — do not translate, repost, or plagiarize.

[sunhoures]

And It Was All Yellow

pairing: wonwoo (svt) + reader (fem.)

genre: fluff, strangers to friends to lovers, photographer!wonwoo, artist!reader (+ journalist!mingyu)

word count: ~5.7k

synopsis: wonwoo doesn’t believe in love at first sight, but he finds himself falling for you a lot sooner than he thought possible

inspired by: the text post pictured above ^^ & the song “yellow” by coldplay 💛

posted: august 21, 2023

The weather in Seoul was dull—gray clouds and scattered, drizzling rain suspended over the city since dawn had broken. Most people hated such weather, but Jeon Wonwoo was not one of those people. In fact, he found comfort in the gloominess. He enjoyed the idea of having an excuse to stay in. And if he did need to go outside, he liked that there was a lack of the usual crowd of people that would be around if the weather was more ideal. Traffic was less compacted. Lines of any kind were short (or non-existent). The city was quiet, just as he liked it.

On days like today, he preferred to spend his time inside with a book or playing video games. But work had been scarce for him these past few weeks, so when his best friend, Mingyu, had informed him of a job offer he had no choice but to accept it. That’s how he ended up at a local art museum downtown at 9:45 a.m. on a Thursday morning. Despite the doors not opening for another fifteen minutes, a worker had let him in through the front door when he got her attention and pointed to his camera bag. She realized he didn’t have an umbrella with him, and so she quickly let him in. Luckily he had a raincoat over his outfit and a hat to protect his hair, so the most he had to deal with was a little rain on the back of his neck. He thanked the worker, staying close to the door to get any glimpse of Mingyu arriving.

In the meantime, he watched the cars pass by outside, each one splashing water out of the puddle and onto the sidewalk just in front of the entrance to the museum. He noticed it had lightened up a bit outside, the sky turning from a darker gray to a lighter gray with wispy, white clouds. He wondered if anyone would even show up to this exhibit opening in such weather conditions.

About five minutes after he arrived, Mingyu came knocking on the door, covering his head with a magazine. The worker came back and opened the door for him, deciding to leave it unlocked. Wonwoo’s younger friend came in, complaining under his breath about forgetting his umbrella and getting wet. He shook the sopping magazine, droplets of water falling onto the concrete floor. His gray button-up was a darker gray on the shoulders and sleeves from the rain that seeped into it. Wonwoo noticed the worker glaring at his friend for dripping on the floor and tried not to let his amusement show.

“Forgot your umbrella too?” he questioned Mingyu, “Hopefully your notebook didn’t get ruined.”

His friend looked to the bag he had hanging from his shoulder. The bag didn’t have a zipper, but it did have a flap that fell over the opening to keep it “closed” in a sense. He quickly shoved his hand inside, feeling around for his notebook. When he felt the edges of the paper and confirmed they were dry, he smiled, “All good. And why so early? That’s unusual.”

“I’m never late,” Wonwoo defended.

“Yeah, but if I tell you to be somewhere at ten a.m. you usually don’t walk in until nine fifty-eight.”

The older of the two shrugged, “Got an early start today.”

The two men began their work day, Wonwoo fine-tuning the settings on his camera to his liking while Mingyu made some preliminary notes in his notebook. They set up together in the lobby, but once the artist had arrived, Mingyu excused himself to greet her. Wonwoo stayed in the lobby, taking a couple of test pictures to see if anything else needed to be adjusted. Around him several museum workers, journalists, and other photographers were gathering with the artist. Wonwoo wasn’t the biggest fan of interacting with strangers, so he kept to himself. Luckily, he busied himself with his camera which was enough to keep people from disrupting him.

Once Mingyu returned to his friend, the two joined the growing crowd waiting by the entrance to the new exhibit where a ceremonial ribbon cutting was about to take place. Wonwoo found the ribbon to be a bit superfluous. Nonetheless, he stood towards the back of the small crowd, arms crossed and camera slung around his neck by its strap. He was hired to take some pictures of the event and the art pieces for Mingyu’s article, and that was it. It was somewhat easy money for him, but it did take more time and social interaction than he liked. Truthfully, he couldn’t wait for this to be over and go home to edit.

He watched you, the artist, get behind the ribbon and make your speech thanking everyone for showing up. He snapped a couple pictures as you thanked the museum for giving your art a home temporarily. After a few minutes, you ended your speech by giving a small spiel about how art was therapeutic to you and it should be for everyone else. He found himself subconsciously nodding in agreement, because photography was a form of therapy for him as well.

The ribbon was cut after your speech, and the congregation of guests entered the exhibit for the first time. Mingyu and Wonwoo brought up the rear, but they were just as astonished as every single person ahead of them when they saw the art on display. Several paintings of various mediums hung on the walls, varying in size. The large columns in the middle of the room also held paintings on them, each piece of art accompanied by a small plaque with information about it—like the title and date. Mingyu, just like the other journalists, was already jotting down notes in his book, the tip of his tongue poking out of the corner of his pressed lips in concentration. Wonwoo peered around the room, simply taking everything in. His hands held his camera which was still hanging from his neck.

The two friends walked around together, patiently waiting for the other guests to continue on before taking their time in front of a piece to write or take pictures. As they got to the last few paintings, Mingyu made a comment about finding the bathroom, and that he would be back shortly. Wonwoo nodded and continued to snap a few pictures of the paintings before him. He came to a stop in front of a simple painting of sunflowers; the acrylic paint forming a kind of 3D effect on the canvas. He stared at that one for a moment longer than the rest of them, not for any particular reason, he supposed. It didn’t stand out from the others or anything, but he liked it for a reason he couldn’t quite put his finger on.

“Do you like sunflowers?”

Your voice startled him, though he didn’t show it. He merely turned to you, giving you a small nod of acknowledgement as well as a small, polite smile, “They’re fine I guess.”

“This was one of my first pieces I made in art school,” you explained, and it was then he noticed it did indeed have the earliest date posted among all of the canvases in the room.

“It’s nice,” he said, “Congratulations, by the way. You’re very talented.”

Your face broke into a sweet smile despite that being the nth compliment of this morning. Each one felt like a gold star being rewarded to you, and it filled you with happiness. You gestured to his camera, “Do you work for a magazine?”

“Um, sort of,” he shrugged, “My friend does, he just has me shoot pictures for his articles.”

“Oh, I do remember seeing you with someone,” you remembered, “Um, the tall one with the gray shirt, right?”

“Yes.”

“I see. I haven’t gotten to speak with him in depth yet, do you know if he’ll be back soon?”

“He should be returning from the bathroom soon,” he replied. Usually Wonwoo was terrible at making conversation with strangers. He dreaded it. But you gave off such a comforting, welcoming energy. He found himself wanting to talk to you about, well, anything, “This weather isn’t too ideal for this occasion, isn’t it?”

“The rain?” you asked, “Yeah, it’s a bummer, but the turn out was great still. I didn’t think so many people would come.”

“Why’s that?” his brow raised slightly in curiosity.

“I didn’t think my art was special enough to warrant such an exhibit. One of my mentors from art school is friends with the head of the museum, and he asked him for a favor. He’s put a lot of time and faith in me, but I don’t think my art is worth such a grandiose gesture,” you spoke so casually, as if it was fact. Wonwoo found your confession to be a little disheartening. Sure, the art might not have the prestige to qualify for the MoMA or the Louvre, but to someone like him who casually enjoyed art, your work was impressive.

“Well, I’m glad he did. Your work is amazing,” Wonwoo was a man of few words, but he hoped the few he could give would bring you some reassurance. And for the moment it did. You smiled warmly, perking up further when Mingyu returned to the both of you.

“Hello again, would you be able to spare a few minutes with me?” he asked you, already getting his notebook and pen from his bag. You agreed, and the two of you began a conversation while Wonwoo continued to snap some photos of the last paintings. When he was done, he waited patiently for you and Mingyu to finish your conversation. Around ten minutes passed, and the crowd was fluctuating as some people left and some newcomers joined. Wonwoo watched the guests observe the art, getting some inspiration to take photos of them as well. He figured some candid pictures would look nice too. He even got one of you and Mingyu discussing the sunflower piece before he approached the two of you again.

The three of you talked for what felt like hours but in reality was only twenty minutes. At some point the conversation had veered from art to your social lives. Mingyu was a very sociable, outgoing person, so it didn’t take long for him to strike a casual conversation with you. He had learned that the three of you frequented the same coffee shop a few streets away.

“We’ll have to get coffee together some time,” you said, “Should we swap numbers?”

Mingyu happily did so, and the two of you swapped phones to add each others contacts. You made a comment about getting with some other journalists, but you promised to stay in touch before leaving the two men with a “thank you for coming!”.

The rain had cleared up by the time the two friends left the museum. They walked together to the bus stop across the street, waiting for the bus that would be passing shortly. While they waited, they talked about the notes Mingyu got and the shots Wonwoo took.

“She was really sweet,” Mingyu said with a smile, “She told me she didn’t have many friends in the city. We’ll have to take her out with our friends some time soon.”

“Sure,” was all Wonwoo responded absentmindedly, replying to a text from his brother.

“She was pretty, too,” Mingyu added in a suggestive tone.

That made Wonwoo look up from his phone with a pointed look, “What are you implying?”

“Nothing,” his friend shrugged, but his expression was telling before his mouth was, “It’s just been a while since you’ve dated is all. You two seemed to be getting along well.”

The older man rolled his eyes, returning them to his phone as he opened Instagram and proceeded to scroll through his explore page, “I spoke to her for five minutes while you were in the bathroom. I’m not going to fall in love with her in five minutes.”

His friend sighed, “You’ll never fall in love if you’re not open to a potential relationship.”

Wonwoo got quiet then, and the conversation didn’t pick up again until shortly before the bus arrived. On the ride he thought about what Mingyu said. It was true, he hadn’t dated in a very long time, since college actually. Now that he was twenty-seven, it was getting harder and harder for him to find himself in a situation to meet someone. He rarely left his house. He spent his free time doing things alone, and when he did go out with his friends he stuck to them pretty closely. On top of all of that, he wasn’t the most approachable person. He wasn’t a cold person, or at least he didn’t consider himself one. But his looks gave the impression that he was, his sharp eyes and straight-drawn lips making him seem standoffish.

And unlike his friends, he didn’t believe in “love at first sight”. The idea of meeting someone for the first time and instantly being head over heels for them just didn’t connect with him. He didn’t understand how others felt that. When he dated in the past, it took weeks, even months to fall for the person he had a crush on. And he wasn’t necessarily upset with the way he lived; he didn’t mind being alone. Since he was a kid, he always felt more comfortable doing things by himself. But lately he realized his day-to-day did feel a little lonely, especially since most of his friends were settling down with their partners or moving away to pursue careers. Maybe Mingyu was right. Maybe he did need some kind of change.

The first time you hung out with the two men after meeting them at the museum, Mingyu had invited you to join them for lunch. The three of you ate Korean barbecue, learning a bit about each other over a few bottles of soju. Wonwoo didn’t do much talking that time, mostly speaking only when spoken to. You and Mingyu carried the conversations, not that either of you minded. You felt like Wonwoo would need time to open up to you, so you gave him that. Luckily, the two agreed to hang out with you again later in the week. Mingyu had to get some editing done, so he invited you and Wonwoo to keep him company at his apartment.

You were shocked when Wonwoo was the one to engage in conversation with you first, greeting you at the door and welcoming you in. He and Mingyu were preparing a simple dinner, so you sat at the kitchen island watching them cook. You noticed Wonwoo seemed more comfortable talking this time around. Maybe it was because you had hung out already, or maybe it was because he was in a familiar environment. Either way you liked seeing a little crack in the shell that kept his true personality shielded away from you.

Over a couple months the three of you became really close, and you had even met some of their other friends. Mingyu’s office wasn’t far from the art supply store you visited every week, so you made it a habit to visit him every Thursday on your supply runs. The two of you would get lunch or just sit in his office and talk during his break before you returned to your art studio. You really liked the friendship blossoming between you and the two men, but then one day something changed.

Wonwoo texted you out of the blue one Saturday mid-morning asking if you wanted to get some coffee with him. You found it odd that he texted you because he had never done that before. It was usually Mingyu who texted you, or they texted you in a group chat that you had together. Nonetheless, you responded with “of course!” and got dressed.

When you showed up to the café you were confused to see Wonwoo sitting at a two-seater table by himself. You noticed he looked like he put more effort into his appearance today. Normally when you hung out he was in lounging clothes—a simple shirt with sweatpants or maybe loose jeans. The only time you remembered seeing him dressed this nicely was the day you met, and he was working then. But he didn’t mention working today? So what could be the occasion for him to wear off-white pants, a mustard yellow sweater, and what looked like new shoes?

He was reading something on his phone when you approached him, the light from the screen reflecting on his thin-rimmed glasses. When you set your purse down, he looked up at you and gave you a small smile, “Hey.”

“Hi, is Mingyu not joining?” you asked curiously as you sat across from him. You didn’t notice when the corners of his mouth wavered for a second.

“No, he’s working. You’re stuck with just me today,” he joked.

You chuckled softly, “Don’t make it sound so bad. Was there a reason you wanted to hang out today though? I have to say I was a little shocked when you texted me.”

It was Mingyu’s idea, but Wonwoo didn’t want to admit that. His friend had pointed it out that the two of you had never hung out alone. He figured it might help Wonwoo warm up to you more if you spent some time together one-on-one. And even though he didn’t say it out loud, Wonwoo knew Mingyu secretly wanted the two of you to work out romantically—for whatever reason, he wasn’t sure. Wonwoo wasn’t completely closed off to the idea; you were gorgeous and friendly. But he knew it wasn’t going to be an overnight thing. It took weeks for him to feel comfortable with you as a friend, he could only imagine the time it would take to start a romantic relationship.

“I, um, just realized we never got a chance to hang out alone. We don’t really know much about each other outside of our hang outs with Mingyu,” he said. In that moment he also realized how tense he felt. His legs were stiff and knees were drawn in close together under the table. His fingers toyed with the wrapper of his straw from his iced americano. His shoulders were drawn in the slightest bit, and he could feel his posture was kind of terrible. He tried to relax without making it look obvious that he was tense in the first place.

“Yeah, I guess I figured you just didn’t like to socialize as much as Mingyu did.”

“I don’t, but I’m trying to be better about that,” he admitted, and you felt like you might actually be getting somewhere with him, “He teases me a lot about being a hermit.”

You laughed softly, and he smiled with you, “Well, it’s nice to see you coming out of your shell.”

After an appreciative look from him, you excused yourself to order a drink. Wonwoo immediately opened his phone and texted Mingyu.

wonu 🐈‍⬛: ok i’m here, now what do we talk about?

gyu 🐶: well first, don’t be on your phone smh. second, just ask her questions about herself. seem interested. try not to look bored like you always do

Wonwoo sighed in annoyance, ignoring the last part of his message as he turned his phone over on the table. You returned shortly after, also with an iced americano. He decided to give his friend’s advice a try, “Do you always order iced americanos?”

“Only sometimes. My go-to is usually a hot latte, but it’s a bit warm for that today,” you shrugged, taking a sip of your drink. He nodded in understanding, but he was unsure of what else to say. It was so much easier to converse with people you’ve been friends with for several years.

Luckily you had no issue with it, and you broke the awkward silence up for him, “How long have you been doing photography?”

“I’ve done it as a hobby since I was in high school, but after I graduated I started doing freelance work. So, almost ten years.”

“I’d love to see your work some time,” you spoke fondly, remembering the first time you met, “Your shots of my exhibit were amazing, so I can imagine the rest of your work is too.“

“My stuff doesn’t compare to the art you make,” he said it without even thinking. You weren’t sure if you should take it as a self-deprecating remark or flattery.

Your lips quipped into a thoughtful line before you derailed, “Okay, your turn. Ask me a question.”

“Oh, are we playing twenty questions?” Wonwoo joked, sitting back in his chair and sipping on his drink. The sunlight beamed directly across his right eye and onto his cheek. His eye was a deep chocolate brown color as opposed to the dark, cold, almost-black color it usually was. You wondered if his eyes were always that soft.

“Yeah, I’ve just decided. Your turn,” you repeated. You crossed your arms on top of the table, subtly leaning in as a sign of giving him all your attention. He fought the smile wanting to live on his lips, opting to look deep in thought. The two of you went back and forth for nearly half an hour, just asking each other questions. Some answers warranted tangents and story times before you went back to the questions, but you enjoyed it to the fullest. And truthfully, Wonwoo was too. He didn’t think he could get so much enjoyment from a game he used to play with his friends in grade school, yet here he was. On the verge of laughter as you told an embarrassing story from high school in which you were running late to school and didn’t realize until your second class that your underwear was stuck to the back of your shirt.

“I can’t believe you did that,” Wonwoo laughed softly, a crinkle appearing on the bridge of his nose, “I would’ve dropped out of school.”

“I thought about it,” you joked, a bashful smile on your lips as you remembered the story like it happened yesterday, “But yeah, if you’re going to get your clothes from the dryer, double check that your under garments aren’t stuck to them first.”

“Noted,” Wonwoo looked over and noticed that a new couple was sitting at the table behind you. That was the second time new people sat right there. He wondered how long you two had been sitting, but he didn’t want to check his phone in case you got the impression that he was in a rush to leave. Which he definitely wasn’t, “Okay, I think it’s your turn again.”

“Okay, um . . . “ your eyes searched the room for a question prompt, but you were grasping for straws- Wait, that’s it. Straws. The cups of plastic-covered straws on the counter were organized by color, one cup for each color they offered—pink, blue, and yellow, “What’s your favorite color?”

“Hm, why don’t you guess?” Wonwoo replied.

If he was honest, he didn’t really have a favorite color. He supposed if he considered it more he would settle for blue or purple, but he didn’t care enough either way. A good ninety-five percent of his wardrobe was black and five percent color, but he just liked black as a good neutral color to wear. He figured he would just let you guess until you decided to give up.

You thought about it for a moment, but no specific color came to mind immediately. His clothes were mostly black, but lots of people wore black clothing and had a favorite color that wasn’t black. His shirt was yellow as well as the straw for his americano, but there was no other indication that it would be his favorite color from what you could remember. Still, you figured it might be your best guess, “Yellow!”

Wonwoo couldn’t help but smile at your prideful declaration. You said it as if you knew it for a fact.

“Yeah.”

“Wait, really?” your eyes got wide and the grin on your face grew wide. Did you really guess it correctly in one try?

Even Wonwoo was shocked by his answer. Yellow wasn’t his favorite color. He didn’t have one. But you seemed so excited and hopeful and sure of yourself that he didn’t even think twice about his answer.

“Yeah, good job,” he praised you, and he had to admit to himself you looked really cute when you clapped your hands together in a small celebration for yourself, “What’s yours?”

“Pink,” you seemed visibly brighter when you answered. It made sense to Wonwoo. Pink was such a cute, bright, outgoing color. It signified friendliness and sweetness, and all of that just screamed you. Maybe he liked pink too. “It’s been my favorite since I was a kid. Everything I had was pink.”

“Pink suits you.”

You felt yourself flushing at the compliment, your smile turning sheepish, “I think yellow suits you, too. I’m picturing a nice pastel yellow for you. Very spring.”

He tried to picture it: him in a pastel yellow shirt. The mental image seemed foreign, since the mustard sweater he was currently wearing was the brightest color he had ever worn besides white. But he wouldn’t be opposed to it.

“Alright, your turn.”

A few more questions were exchanged between you two, long after your cups were emptied. The patrons of the café that had been present when you showed up were long gone, and new faces took their places. After a while you felt a little guilty for hogging the table for so long, even though it had only been a little under two hours. Wonwoo made a comment about heading out, so you both got up and threw your trash. He walked with you to the bus station, even though he had driven to the café in his own car. You thanked him for inviting you to hang out and told him that you enjoyed it.

“We’ll have to do this again some time, but maybe not tell Mingyu. He might get jealous,” you teased your non-present friend, making Wonwoo laugh softly. He knew for a fact that Mingyu would have no problem with it; he would probably encourage it, if anything.

“I don’t think he’d mind. He’s not usually the jealous type,” Wonwoo replied, stuffing his hands into his pants pockets. He tried to think of something you two could do together, and he recalled that during the twenty—more like fifty plus—questions you had said you liked video games too, “If you want, we could hang out at my apartment, play some video games. And order pizza or something?”

“That sounds like fun!” your eyes lit up at the idea. You had never actually been to his apartment before. Every time you hung out was at Mingyu’s place, your place, or somewhere in the city. You wondered what his apartment looked like. He seemed like the type to keep everything tidy and minimal, “I’ll be pretty busy this week, but maybe we can work something out for next weekend.”

“Cool,” he nodded and kept small talk until the bus arrived to pick you and a handful of other people up. He waved you off politely, and when you were out of sight, he let out a hefty sigh. It felt like a weight had been taken off his shoulders, but not in a bad way. He liked you, so there was this small, subconscious pressure that he felt to be more outgoing. He wanted you to like him too.

Over the next few weeks, there was a shift in the dynamic between the three of you, and it seemed to be obvious to everyone except Wonwoo. You and him had grown a lot closer as you started to hang out alone outside of your usual outings with Mingyu and their other friends. And it showed when the group was together. You always took the seat closest to Wonwoo. He laughed more at your jokes. You complimented his outfits—which were slowly but progressively becoming more colorful. He offered to walk you to your car or the bus or home whenever he could. Yet, still, when asked if anything was going on between you two, he seemed confused.

“It’s not like that,” he told Mingyu when the two were walking to a job they had booked one afternoon—a restaurant opening, “________ and I have gotten close, but not that close.”

“Hey, I know you wear glasses, but you can’t be this blind,” his friend retorted, “You two like each other.”

Wonwoo faltered a bit as he walked, but tried to play it off, “Did she say she liked me?”

“No, but she doesn’t need to. Neither do you, but as your best friend it would be nice if you told me these things.”

Wonwoo rolled his eyes, annoyed that Mingyu had made him think you had finally admitted having feelings for him.

“You two act like you’re in your own world all the time. The guys notice it, too, not just me,” Mingyu continued, “And since when do you like yellow so much?”

The question took Wonwoo so off guard that he laughed incredulously, “What?”

“She’s always giving you stuff that’s yellow. And you started wearing yellow clothes,” Mingyu pointed out. And it was true.

The first thing you had gifted him was a simple pen; it was a sunflower yellow color with black lettering etched on the side that said ‘hello, sunshine!’. He was confused when you had handed it to him that second time you hung out together to play video games. You showed up on his doorstep, telling him to close his eyes and put out his hands. When he had opened them again the pen was sat in his palms.

“What’s this for?”

“Nothing, I guess. I was at the supply store and noticed it by the check out, and I thought about you. So I got it for you. It’s cute, isn’t it?”

Wonwoo honestly had no reason to use such a pen since his day-to-day work required little writing. And most of his notes were made in his phone, but the sentiment behind your gift made his heart flutter, “It is. Thank you, _______.”

And nearly every time after then you had gifted him things similar. While at the park with him and Mingyu, you bought him a banana flavored popsicle, solely for the fact that it was yellow—and you were relieved to find out he liked the banana flavor. When you went bowling with their friends, you gave him the yellow ball and left yourself with the last one which was brown. When you went to Mingyu’s to see the two of them, you had brought them each a keychain from a new pop-up shop that was near your art studio. You gave Mingyu a red one that had a soccer ball on it while Wonwoo’s was yellow and had a sunflower on it. You had initially got it because of its color, but the flower reminded you of the day you met him, so it held even more sentiment.

And recently, Wonwoo’s favorite water bottle had broken, so while you were out shopping you had found one that was similar to it. The cap was a little different, but it had the same shape and size, and it was a golden yellow hue.

When you gave it to him, the two of you were about to leave his apartment to get some dinner at the fried chicken place down the street. You had mentioned that you had a surprise for him, then you fished the bottle out of your tote bag to show him. His heart skipped a beat and a smile crept onto his lips when he saw it.

“I know you probably won’t love it as much as your other bottle, but hopefully you still like it,” you said with a shrug of your shoulders. He took it from your offering grasp and shook his head.

“I do love it,” he said.

“You can leave it here while we go eat,” you turned towards the door, pulling your bag more securely onto your shoulder. But just before you could reach for the doorknob, Wonwoo’s voice called your name, making you turn back to face him, “Hm?”

Your eyes widened when you realized he was a lot closer than you thought, just a foot or so away from you. His tall frame seemed to tower over you, causing you to have to look up at him. You could see a struggle happening behind his eyes, as if he was going back and forth in his mind trying to decide on something. You were about to question him when suddenly he leaned forward and placed a quick kiss to your cheek. The skin that he touched felt hot in his wake, the warmth spread across your face and ultimately your whole body felt heated under his gaze.

“Thank you, ________. For everything,” he spoke softly, his anxiety apparent in his tone. He averted his gaze, looking down at his hands. A bracelet that you had bought him last week was wrapped around his wrist—white beads and yellow smiley face charms decorating it. For some reason seeing the jewelry gave him the little boost of confidence he needed to ask, “Would you like to make this a date?”

Your eyes widened even further, but you couldn’t ignore the flurry of butterflies going wild inside your chest, their fluttering wings tickling your heart. Your crush on Wonwoo had started long before his crush on you had formed, but that didn’t bother you. Because you knew that he liked you now, and you couldn’t pass the opportunity to say, “Yes.”

A charming smile grew wide on his face, prompting you to grin too. Happiness bloomed inside you, and the two of you walked out of the apartment suddenly feeling shy after wordlessly admitting your feelings for each other. Despite his nerves, though, Wonwoo found the courage to take your hand in his as you walked down the sidewalk to the fried chicken place.

Along the way you pointed out some yellow canola flowers planted outside of an office building, and Wonwoo decided in that moment that he would never get tired of the color yellow. The way your face lit up when you saw it or gave him yellow-themed gifts, he would always find it cute. As far as he was concerned, the entire world could be covered in the color yellow, and he would be content just knowing it made you happy. He no longer would appreciate rain; instead, he would look forward to sunny days when the bright, yellow sunlight would remind him of you and your kind heart. Maybe yellow wasn’t his favorite color at first but, over time, it would be.

— please like, reblog, and/or leave a comment! i appreciate your feedback! 🧸

— join my taglist here