#during RECORD STORE DAY

[fortjester]

never been so glad not to work a friday

[sodafrog13]

[cursingtoji]

cw: band au, rockstar!geto x groupie!gf, slight manipulation?, car sex, oral. a/n: geto deserves a loser gf too. gojo version nanami version

geto who has a rock band and though they’re quite small they already have a #1 fan: you.

the band is all you talk about, going to the point of making your own shirts and posters, you doodle the bands logo everywhere and, most importantly you don't miss a single concert.

by the end of it you're waiting next to the back door of the pub when the band comes out, as soon as you see suguru you call his name extending your little gift bag.

"woah for me? thanks, doll." he takes your chin and gives your glossy lips a peck that makes your heartbeat spike up and your face warm up. geto fucking suguru just kissed you!

during all that week you were on cloud nine, so distracted and giggly.

of course geto notices you, always in the front row and ready to give the band some gifts, he sees how you try to dress up as one of them before they even realize they have a visual identity.

geto likes having fangirls, if anything that’s the best sign that the band is doing well. till that point he never considered engaging to one in a more intimate level. after all, women were never a problem for him, fans or not.

the problem is when they think more of the relationship than it really is. geto has always made sure they knew that sleeping together and treating them well was not synonymous to committed relationship.

because he already is committed. to his music. so after spending the whole day trying to come up with a new song so the band may finally have a complete album to present to a record, he takes a frustrated break picking up his phone and to his dismay only finding a long message about how he hurt someone’s feelings.

“oh for fucks sake” he lets his phone fall on the couch and take his keys, this is not a good week to quit smoking.

“geto?” he hears a small voice calling him after he leaves the convenience store with a very much needed cigarette on his lips and nicotine in his system.

“oh hey” he recognizes you by name and face.

“you’re using the lighter” you point out enthusiastically, that was a limited edition you bought and gifted him.

“that’s right, you bought me this, did i say thank you?” he’s genuinely wondering, your face heats remembering the kiss.

“i-its no big deal” you brush it off, since he doesn’t seem to be in a rush you start to babble about one specific song and everything you loved about it, knowing he was the composer.

“do wanna go to my place?” he says after quietly listening to your passionate thoughts. you think steam is about to come out of your ears at how hot your face got.

geto throws away what’s left of his cigarette and takes your hand, not really waiting for a response since the heart in your eyes is pretty obvious.

“you’re so cute” he says with his face mushed into your breasts as he guides your movements on his lap. you never guessed when you came out this morning you would be riding your favorite guitarist’s dick a few hours later, if you knew you probably would’ve put a sexier lingerie. not that he would care, by the way he pushed your bottoms down all at once he probably didn’t even know what color your underwear was.

geto pulled your hair tilting your head to meet his mouth, he devoured you so intensely, so overwhelming… you came not even needing your clit to be touched, just by having him inside you and breathing into your mouth like that was enough.

for suguru it was all a power trip, when he saw you after a concert he knew it wouldn’t take you much sweet talking to get you in his car.

he quickly mumbled an excuse to meet the band at the bar later and in just a few minutes he had you bobbing your head down his cock, “just like that, gorgeous, so good” his head is thrown back as he moans softly.

and as the band grew more popular and they had to travel to other cities to perform he would always count on you to meet him at his hotel room.

“geto~” you mewl his name as he eats your pussy from behind so lewdly.

from the very first time you knew it was over for every other guy the moment he touched you. no matter what anyone said about geto, that he was using you, he would never marry you, you didn’t care. you would be his devotee as long as he wanted.

and geto got all he wanted, a pretty little thing that didn’t complain or asked too many questions and best of all: that loved his music and understood his work.

“i know, you have to practice” you kiss him one last time before gathering your clothing from the floor, the hints of him not wanting to stay over were all memorized at this point, so you turn your back at him and make your way to the bathroom to brush your teeth.

but the usual sound of the door opening and closing never came, instead you saw him coming from behind to lace strong arms around your waist, “well maybe just tonight” he smells your hair and through the mirror he sees the tattoo bellow your belly button, just above the hem of your underwear. your prof of love: the logo of the band.

geto touches it and you giggle at the feathery feeling, like a tickle, he likes that sound. he likes you.

“i was thinking you should get another, right here” a finger caress your right ass cheek.

“the same one?” you ask confused.

“no, silly, something else” he gets down hands caressing your hips and kissing the extension of your butt, “my name.”

[kinichval]

being idol!xiao's girlfriend means you have unlimited and pre-release access to all his merchandise, fan event tickets, and even allowed backstage during concerts by his management.

but you're his biggest fan, his number one fan girl, and, in xiaotwt terms, his most delulu girlfriend stan. which tingles xiao's brain because... you are his girlfriend? why do you have be crazy over him on the internet when you can literally smother him in your lovely kisses all day?

as much as you're internally cocky with the fact that you're the luckiest fan out there, you can't just upload on twitter a photo of him in your arms. now, that would be a chaotic mess for the management, potentially posing a threat to his career, and ultimately, endangering your privacy.

(but at least your private instagram is a safe space for showing off your boyfriend, xiao.)

what idol!xiao finds the most absurd (and adorable) is when he's able to send you selfies and candid shots during his practices, recordings, or any related agendas in his work that don't end up in the photocard or merchandise lineup; but, you're still fighting for your life on buy and sell twt to get one limited edition xiao photocard on his third anniversary as an artist or you're waiting in a long ass line to purchase merchandise from an accredited store nearby your place.

even the management has seen you a few times blending in with idol!xiao's sea of fans, they also wonder why you don't take advantage of the convenience and access to almost everything when you're already a trusted friend and a very supportive girlfriend of their favorite artist.

in your defense, it's part of the fan girl experience.

"how much did you pay for that?"

but sometimes, your impulse comes first before your superego even gets to neutralize your decision.

"uh about like... a few dollars?"

"my love, it's expensive and i believe that's overpriced."

"but it's limited edition!"

"you literally date the real thing."

[choerypetal]

Meet and Greet / Homelander

summary: Homelander had never experienced an obsession before, nor was he even familiar with the term until he met you at the meet and greet, where you were dressed in a recognizable blue costume.

*Pt-2!! read after this one— *

ps; english isn't my first language so i apologize for any grammar errors, xo"

Everyone knew that Homelander wouldn't hesitate to admit his obsession with you. His drive to be the best was deeply ingrained in his mind, and during a meeting with the Seven, your image lingered in his thoughts. Fortunately, he managed to hide these distractions before Ashley could express her concerns about the upcoming show—a significant one, especially since Homelander knew you would be attending with your family. He always knows. 

And he was right. Your parents, being big fans of the Seven, never wanted to miss a single annual show. This meant you had to tag along. "Come on, you have to wear it! Make Homelander proud," your mother insisted, holding up a superhero costume made in your exact size. Make Homelander proud. You sighed, wanting to object, but your attempt to call your mother's name was drowned out by the loud music in the store and an overly enthusiastic clerk who repeatedly asked if you were satisfied with your find. She was also wearing a costume, though not Homelander's, which made you suspect there would be more than just Homelander present that day.  

Fortunately, you weren't the only one wearing the costume you had put on for your mother, making it easier to blend into the crowd. However, this also made it easier for Homelander to spot you as soon as he stepped on stage. With Ashley having access to the ticket records, finding your last name had been a simple task. His eyes remained fixed on the screen the moment your name appeared, and he mouthed your entire name just as Ashley's voice startled him, reminding him it was time to go on stage. 

“Welcome! How lovely you all are!” he announced in his typical rehearsed tone. He was growing increasingly annoyed; the whole theatrical aspect bored him. Why couldn't the Deep handle it today? Or even someone new, while he sat in the back, scrutinizing every silhouette to find yours. It wasn’t difficult either, given that your parents had ensured you got the best seats. His lips curled into a sly smirk. Bingo, he thought. It still surprised him that, even without knowing your face, the name matched his expectations perfectly. He had to know. He was the Homelander after all. He knew everything. 

Luckily he managed to let out of his usual monologue, with the new recruits being presented today, it let him more time in his hands. And that also meant, seeking out for you when he had the chance. 

The show concluded as expected, with your mother delighted to see her favorite hero on stage and your dad eager to meet Starlight again. During the ongoing meet-and-greet, Homelander couldn’t help but observe your every move. Despite your apparent boredom, the fact that you were wearing a costume identical to his caught his attention. He couldn't deny that you looked incredibly sexy, and he fantasized about having his hands around your waist, hearing your moans, and you begging for more. 

“Sir,” Ashley’s voice broke through his thoughts, catching him off guard and irritating him since it meant he couldn't keep watching you. After all, as Homelander, he was doing the city justice by ensuring your safety. Right? “It’s time for your meet-and-greet,” she reminded him. With a knowing nod, he indicated he would be right there. Little did you know, you were one of the few fans waiting in line to meet him. 

He wasn't entirely wrong. Once again, your mother had requested you to take a picture with him. You always wondered why she couldn't do it herself, citing being 'just shy,' but deep down you knew the real reason was that she wanted to see her own daughter with the man she fantasized about. Unlike her, you weren't a fan of superheroes and their inflated egos. Yet, here you were, waiting in line between a family and two fangirling girls. 

“Thank you, and have a wonderful day. God Bless you!” he said, flashing a wide grin as he ruffled the boy’s hair after taking pictures. In just a few minutes, you would be up next, and you were acutely aware of it. He, too, was counting the people in line, noting your silhouette emerging behind a tall man. The way the outfit hugged your curves and the cape flowed on your back caught his eye. Oh how he wanted to fuck you right there. He wanted to have you all wrapped around his finger. And he knew exactly how to get you, if only Ashley was there. 

As you neared the photo booth, you reluctantly acknowledged that despite your aversion to heroes, Homelander possessed an undeniable allure. Whether it was his striking blue eyes or his impeccably groomed hair, you couldn't quite determine. “Next,” the disinterested employee called out, mirroring the lack of enthusiasm you had felt upon arriving at the show. Barely glancing at you, they scratched the bottom of your ticket and directed you toward Homelander. It was then that you made eye contact with him for the first time, and he couldn't look away.

"Hello, dear," he greeted you formally, like everyone else, but his tone made him stand out. His fingers gently rested on your waist, pulling you close until there was no space between you. "Say cheese!" the photographer prompted, but Homelander, true to form, knew more than just posing for a picture. "Nah, let me get my best side, will you?" he interjected, subtly extending your time together. The photographer hesitated, eyeing the remaining fans in line, but Homelander paid no attention. With a soft scoff, he leaned closer and murmured in your ear, his voice almost a whisper of a threat, yet his lips curved into a smile when he glanced down at you. "Loving the costume," he added with a quick smile for the camera. His charisma left you breathless, and he noticed you weren't ready for the picture.

His comment caught you off guard, and the way he leaned closer only added to your unease. Sensing your muscles tense at his touch, he directed the photographer to take another shot. The photographer, aware of the waiting line, was hesitant, but Homelander insisted. "We don’t want this beautiful lady to go home with a bad photo now, do we?" That damn bastard, the photographer likely thought, as you glanced at him hesitantly. He glanced at the line, sighed deeply, and the resignation in his eyes mirrored your own thoughts.

Homelander, on the other hand, relished the opportunity to keep you wrapped around his finger for as long as he desired. If he had the courage, or if your parents weren’t around, he might have invited you to join the Seven. But he knew better than anyone that he had to make a good impression. "Say cheese," the photographer repeated, his voice now tinged with boredom. You noticed the tension in Homelander’s jaw as he clenched it. He glanced at you, a smile playing on his lips, before glaring at the photographer, which was enough to make the poor man gulp silently and mirror the same grin.

And that's where his obsession took hold completely. The scent of your perfume, the way your hair was immaculately styled into a neat ponytail, and your lightly applied blush with rosy plum lips—all were irresistible to him. He couldn't deny that your lips were the most enticing he'd ever seen. His fingers now traced the leather of your Homelander costume, appreciating how it hugged your curves perfectly. Oh, how he...

“Done!” The photographer's almost relieved voice snapped John back to reality. Despite maintaining his composure during the photo session, his thoughts had wandered to fantasies of you. He imagined you beneath him, taking his cock so well, one hand firmly massaging your breast, his lips eagerly seeking the fresh milk oozing from your nipples. And you... so vulnerable, so petite around him, begging for more...

From that day on, Homelander never missed an opportunity to see your face again. It seemed almost too good to be true when he later had the chance to meet your mother and requested that you accompany her more often to their annual shows. He promised to show his appreciation, hinting that he would return the favor very soon.

[libraryofgage]

Good Vibrations Part One

Hello, it's me, back at it again with another Steddie AU.

Anyway, if I were tagging this AU, these would be the most important ones: Deaf Steve Harrington; Tooth-rotting Fluff; Getting Together

If you wanna be tagged in future parts, just let me know!

As always, if you see any typos, no you didn't ;)

----

Steve has blown through three pairs of hearing aids in the past year. The first pair had lasted a few years and needed replacement because of normal wear and tear. The second pair was sacrificed during that fight with Jonathan. He hadn't been wearing them, but they'd been in Steve's pocket, and he'd landed at just the right angle to feel them shatter. The third pair was taken by the Russians because, despite Robin's shouting and cursing at them for being dumbasses (and this was before she actually knew what they were for), they accused him of recording their kidnapping and torture.

Honestly, he wouldn't recommend fighting Russians and Billy and Mind Flayers and driving while nearly totally deaf.

The funniest part of it all, though, is that Steve doesn't even use hearing aids regularly. He normally only wears them at home. The pair lost to Jonathan were present because, well, that whole day had been a lot for Steve, and he needed the comfort of knowing he could stop reading lips the moment it became too exhausting for him. The pair lost to the Russians was because he'd been getting ready to tell Robin about being deaf. She'd already clocked the weird things he does (well, weird to her, normal to Steve), and he figured letting her in on the big secret would bring them a little closer.

Of course, that didn't go the way he expected. Robin thought he was confessing love and decided to beat him to the punch. That's how he learned Robin is a lesbian, and Steve couldn't let her be the only one admitting to something like that, so he told her about being bi and his long-standing, hopeless crush. And being deaf. But the bi with a crush thing seemed more important in the moment. She took it in stride, it brought them closer, and then Robin asked if Steve could teach her sign language.

Which meant that Steve had to learn sign language because he never had. Between not wanting to feel even more different than he already did and trying to convince his parents that, really, everything was fine and he didn't need to go to a special school for deaf and hard-of-hearing kids, he'd never learned. Learning it had somehow felt like an admission of weakness, and that was the last thing he wanted. But he learned for Robin, and they stumbled through sign language together, creating new signs only they knew.

But that's all in the past now, and Steve is working his ass off at Family Video to afford a new pair because he refuses to ask his parents for money. If he asks them, they'll come back, and that's the last thing he wants. They don't need to have all their worries confirmed that Steve is helpless, and he doesn't want them anywhere near Hawkins "Hellscape" Indiana.

So. Working his ass off, taking extra shifts, and babysitting the kids as much as he can to make up for the whole Friends and Family Discount he gives their parents. He's exhausted, but he gets to recharge somewhat during his lunch break.

About a ten-minute walk from the Family Video is a record store, which Steve has started visiting daily to just breathe. The lone worker in the store is usually too busy listening to her own music to pay Steve any attention, letting him wander and try to determine which records will best serve him.

Steve drifts over to the rock and heavy metal section, hoping to find a new album but unsurprised when he doesn't. He browses through them anyway, moving past Metallica and Black Sabbath and Iron Maiden. He already has all of these albums on his shelf at home. He has the cassette tapes for them, too.

But he really wants something new. He likes the novelty of experiencing unfamiliar vibrations through the speaker, letting them thrum through his fingertips and into his bones. It's fun and relaxing, and after all the bullshit he's been through lately, he probably deserves something relaxing.

After glancing over a few more familiar albums, Steve sighs and glances at the counter by the door. The lone worker is standing there, headphones over her ears, and idly flipping through a magazine. She's chewing gum, and Steve braces himself for the sheer hell of trying to read her lips without making it obvious he's reading her lips while she's got something in her mouth to disrupt the normal shape of words and sounds.

But he has to try. Steve takes one more deep breath before walking over, shoving his hands into his pockets when he comes to a stop at the counter. The girl raises a hand, motioning for him to wait, so he stays quiet as she finishes reading her page. She flips to the next one before looking up, not making any move to pull her headphones off.

"Hi. Do you have any new rock or metal albums coming in soon," Steve asks, feeling the vibrations of speech in his throat and hoping his words aren't too loud.

They don't seem to be. The girl doesn't flinch or pull back. She just looks him up and down, taking in the polo shirt and the nice khakis and the Family Video vest he forgot to take off before leaving. Finally, her neck and shoulders jerk slightly, and Steve knows she's huffed in annoyance. "No," she says, the word clear enough in the shape of her lips for Steve to know it immediately.

He frowns slightly, his fingernails digging into his palms. Steve wouldn't mind just leaving now, but something keeps him there. He just...he really wants new music. He needs something new. "Are there gonna be any shows nearby?" he asks.

The girl rolls her eyes and says something, her mouth distorted by gum-chewing. Steve can barely make out the words "you" and "check" from her response. Thankfully, it's accompanied by a vague gesture at something behind him. Steve looks over his shoulder to see a bulletin board with flyers plastered across it.

"Right. Thanks," he says, nodding to her before walking over. The flyers are all different colors with various fonts that scream for Steve's attention. Some of them are for bands, some are advertisements of garage sales or instruments in need of a new home, and others are just business flyers from stores nearby.

He's seen the bulletin board before, but he's never actually paid attention to it. Steve has always been laser-focused on browsing the records. But now, Steve carefully reviews each flyer advertising shows. Some are for comedy shows, which he immediately dismisses. One seems promising, but then he sees how far it is, and Steve definitely can't do an overnight trip like that.

Finally, Steve sees a flyer advertising a show at the Hideout later that week. It's close enough that he won't be out overnight. The place is kind of seedy, but Steve figures he can find some corner near the stage to hide. Or he can bring Robin and let her help him navigate any potential social situations. He tugs the flyer off the board, gaze lingering on the "Corroded Coffin" emblazoned across the top.

He knows the band. Of course, he knows the band. He's extremely familiar with their singer. From a distance. Honestly, Eddie Munson probably doesn't have the best impression of him, but Steve's heart never really cared about that. Because Eddie is like everything Steve wants to be: he's loud and unafraid of being so, he doesn't care about his image and how others perceive him, and he looks like his laugh sounds beautiful. Steve wouldn't know if he's actually right about that last point, but Eddie throws his head back when he laughs, eyes crinkled and hand over his stomach like his muscles ache.

His mouth suddenly feels dry, but he's also filled with unprecedented courage. Steve has graduated (barely), and that means a significantly lower chance of running into Eddie during the day if watching the show somehow goes wrong.

Steve folds the flyer into quarters and stuffs it into his back pocket. He'll be overly aware of it being there until Robin starts her shift and he can show it to her, but that's okay. He throws a quick thanks over his shoulder as he leaves the shop, glancing up at the bell he can't hear that signals the door's opening. He vaguely remembers what bells are supposed to sound like (he'd heard a few before losing the ability to hear them), but he doesn't let himself dwell on it.

Instead, he focuses on the trip back to Family Video, keeping an eye on the road to watch for any cars he wouldn't notice otherwise.

----

When the final bell rings, Eddie Munson can't get out of class fast enough. He'd been packed for the last five minutes, and he slid out of his seat the moment that first peal rang out. He has a gig to prepare for, and every second counts. At least, each second counts until he notices something (or someone) that could prove entertaining for a while.

He spots Dustin alone near one of the exits, and Eddie decides to relieve the kid of his isolation. He waits until he's behind Dustin to shout, "Henderson!" and throw his arm over the kid's shoulders, ignoring the way he jumps like he'd been expecting an attack.

"Holy shit!" Dustin shrieks, jerking back to look up at Eddie. "Don't do that, man, you're gonna give me a heart attack."

Eddie snorts, waving away Dustin's concern as he continues toward the exit. The general flow of students trying to get out helps him along, and Dustin doesn't seem to realize they're actually moving until they've gotten into direct sunlight. "You're fine," Eddie says, "Anyway, whatcha doing all alone, Henderson? Lose your way?"

"No, I have...stuff to do today," Dustin says, shrugging as he blinks to acclimate to the sunlight.

Oh, yeah, way too cryptic for Eddie to not dig for more. "Stuff? What kinda stuff? Got a hot date? Going shopping with your mom?" he asks, and then he gasps dramatically and moves to stand in Dustin's way. He puts both hands on his shoulders and very seriously says, "Be honest, Henderson, you're seeing another DM, aren't you?"

Dustin stares at him for a few seconds before rolling his eyes and shrugging his hands off. "Who else in this town DMs?" he asks, "Other than Will, I guess, but he's still working on a campaign."

"Fair," Eddie concedes, "so, whatcha really doing?"

After a few seconds of getting nudged by the students around them, Dustin sighs and says, "I have chores, okay? But that doesn't sound cool to say, does it?"

Fair. Eddie nods in agreement and moves out of Dustin's way, continuing to follow him. "So, what, your mom picking you up today?" he asks.

"No, Steve."

"Oh, the famous Steve."

Dustin nods, looking over the parking lot before pointing to one end. "Yeah, he's awesome," Dustin says as Eddie follows the direction of his finger.

And standing there, leaning against the hood of his car and looking to the side where a group of trees is swaying in the breeze, is Steve Harrington. Steve "The Hair" Harrington. King Steve. The worst thing, Eddie thinks, is that Steve looks good. His hair is still perfect, of course, and his stupid little striped shirt is pulling against his biceps and riding up just enough for Eddie to see a tiny sliver of tanned skin above his jeans. He looks a little tense, but Eddie chalks that up to him being back on the campus after already graduating.

"Harrington? You've been talking about Steve Harrington this whole time?" Eddie asks, his voice a little strained, "How the fuck do you know Steve Harrington?"

"He's my babysitter," Dustin says, his voice implying that much should have been obvious, but Eddie wants to grab his shoulders and shake until his head rolls off.

Steve Harrington doesn't babysit. He doesn't know nerds that talk about D&D. He doesn't drive nerds around. At least, he never did in high school. Granted, Eddie never actually talked to Steve, but everybody knew that Steve Harrington was too cool for, well, anything that wasn't the typical jock and popular guy shit.

As he's thinking about the last time he saw Steve Harrington (in the halls, while the guy had bruises and looked worse for wear), they get within shouting distance. And Eddie has zero impulse control when Wayne isn't around, so he doesn't think before shouting, "Hey, Harrington!"

Next to him, Dustin whips his head to glare at Eddie. And Steve Harrington doesn't fucking react. He just keeps staring at that group of trees like it's the most fascinating thing in the world. "Dude," Dustin says, grabbing Eddie's arm and yanking harshly, "don't shout like that."

Eddie frowns, anger beginning to simmer in his stomach at the complete lack of acknowledgment. "Why are you upset with me?" he asks, gesturing at Steve as he continues, "I'm not the one being a douchebag here."

Dustin opens his mouth, about to say something, only to snap it shut once more. He frowns like he's just realized he can't say something, and huffs with frustration. "Just...just don't do that," he finally says, keeping a hand on Eddie's arm and dragging him across the parking lot. And, yeah, something is definitely weird here.

Instead of just walking up to Steve, they make a large arch until they're within Steve's line of sight.

Eddie watches as Steve notices them, seeing Dustin first and pushing off the car. He relaxes for a split second until he sees Eddie and his shoulders tense again.

Great.

Once they're close enough for Eddie to count the moles above the collar of Steve's shirt, Dustin grins and says, "Hey, Steve." But it's odd, because Eddie has never heard Dustin talk this slow or this carefully, like he's doing his best to enunciate his words.

Steve flashes a grin and ruffles Dustin's hair. "Hey, twerp, you're late," he says. He then glances at Eddie, his grin becoming a little smaller, and says, "Hey, Munson."

Wait. Steve Harrington knows Eddie's name? And he called him by it? He said Munson, not Freak. Eddie stares at Steve for a few seconds before nodding. "Harrington," he says, "how the fuck did you become a babysitter?"

Is he just imagining things, or is Steve looking at his mouth? Like, really intensely. He's definitely not, because Steve looks up after a few seconds with a raised eyebrow. "I needed some extra cash. Also, don't swear around Dustin. I'm the one who gets in trouble when he curses in front of his mom."

Something about the words makes Eddie grin. Never in a million years would he have guessed that he'd be talking to Steve Harrington. And he would have laughed you into Mordor itself if you suggested their conversation would be about Dustin Henderson swearing in front of his mother. "What's his mom do when he swears?" he asks.

Because he can feel the conversation veering into something potentially embarrassing for him, Dustin lets go of Eddie and starts pushing Steve toward the driver's side of his car. "Okay, we gotta go. So many chores, so little time," he says, his voice back to that normal speed and enunciation.

Steve frowns slightly, looking down at Dustin and tilting his head just slightly. "What?" he asks. Instead of actually answering, Dustin just makes some vague gesture with his hand and looks at the car. "Oh, right. Go ahead and get in the car. And, uh, see you later, Munson."

"Is that a promise?" Eddie asks before he can think better of it.

Steve pauses, looking at Eddie's mouth with a slight scrunch to his nose. He seems to be considering something as Dustin scrambles into the passenger seat, watching them with narrowed eyes. Honestly, Eddie is surprised he's not blasting the horn to hurry Steve up. Finally, Steve comes to a decision and meets Eddie's eyes again. "Your band has a show tonight, right? At the Hideout? I was planning to go. So, yeah, I'll see you then, I guess."

And with that, like he hasn't just fucking rocked Eddie's world, Steve Harrington gets into his car. He makes sure Dustin is buckled before waving at Eddie and pulling out of the parking spot.

Eddie finds himself waving back, staring dumbly at the car as it pulls onto the street. It only hits him a few seconds later that Steve Harrington is coming to his show. At the Hideout. His metal show. A Corroded Coffin gig at the Hideout.

Holy. Shit.

[fuckyeahgoodomens]

Oooh! A great Gavin Finney (Good Omens Director of Photography) interview with Helen Parkinson for the British Cinematographer! :)

HEAVEN SENT

Gifted a vast creative landscape from two of fantasy’s foremost authors to play with, Gavin Finney BSC reveals how he crafted the otherworldly visuals for Good Omens 2.  

It started with a letter from beyond the grave. Following fantasy maestro Sir Terry Pratchett’s untimely death in 2015, Neil Gaiman decided he wouldn’t adapt their co-authored 1990 novel, Good Omens, without his collaborator. That was, until he was presented with a posthumous missive from Pratchett asking him to do just that.  

For Gaiman, it was a request that proved impossible to decline: he brought Good Omens season one to the screen in 2019, a careful homage to its source material. His writing, complemented by some inspired casting – David Tennant plays the irrepressible demon Crowley, alongside Michael Sheen as angel-slash-bookseller Aziraphale – and award-nominated visuals from Gavin Finney BSC, proved a potent combination for Prime Video viewers.  

Aziraphale’s bookshop was a set design triumph.

Season two departs from the faithful literary adaptation of its predecessor, instead imagining what comes next for Crowley and Aziraphale. Its storyline is built off a conversation that Pratchett and Gaiman shared during a jetlagged stay in Seattle for the 1989 World Fantasy Convention. Gaiman remembers: “The idea was always that we would tell the story that Terry and I came up with in 1989 in Seattle, but that we would do that in our own time and in our own way. So, once Good Omens (S1) was done, all I knew was that I really, really wanted to tell the rest of the story.” 

Telling that story visually may sound daunting, but cinematographer Finney is no stranger to the wonderfully idiosyncratic world of Pratchett and co. As well as lensing Good Omens’ first outing, he’s also shot three other Pratchett stories – TV mini series  Hogfather  (2006), and TV mini-series The Colour of Magic (2008) and Going Postal (2010). 

He relishes how the authors provide a vast creative landscape for him to riff off. “The great thing about Pratchett and Gaiman is that there’s no limit to what you can do creatively – everything is up for grabs,” he muses. “When we did the first Pratchett films and the first Good Omens, you couldn’t start by saying, ‘Okay, what should this look like?’, because nothing looks like Pratchett’s world. So, you’re starting from scratch, with no references, and that starting point can be anything you want it to be.”  

Season two saw the introduction of inside-outside sets for key locations including Aziraphale’s bookshop. 

From start to finish 

The sole DP on the six-episode season, Finney was pleased to team up again with returning director Douglas Mackinnon for the “immensely complicated” shoot, and the pair began eight weeks of prep in summer 2021. A big change was the production shifting the main soho set from Bovington airfield, near London, up to Edinburgh’s Pyramids Studio. Much of the action in Good Omens takes place on the Soho street that’s home to Aziraphale’s bookshop, which was built as an exterior set on the former airfield for season one. Season two, however, saw the introduction of inside-outside sets for key locations including the bookshop, record store and pub, to minimise reliance on green screen.  

Finney brought over many elements of his season one lensing, especially Mackinnon’s emphasis on keeping the camera moving, which involved lots of prep and testing. “We had a full-time Scorpio 45’ for the whole shoot (run by key grip Tim Critchell and his team), two Steadicam operators (A camera – Ed Clark and B camera Martin Newstead) all the way through, and in any one day we’d often go from Steadicam, to crane, to dolly and back again,” he says. “The camera is moving all the time, but it’s always driven by the story.” 

One key difference for season two, however, was the move to large-format visuals. Finney tested three large-format cameras and the winner was the Alexa LF (assisted by the Mini LF where conditions required), thanks to its look and flexibility.  

The minisodes were shot on Cooke anamorphics, giving Finney the ideal balance of anamorphic-style glares and characteristics without too much veiling flare.

A more complex decision was finding the right lenses for the job. “You hear about all these whizzy new lenses that are re-barrelled ancient Russian glass, but I needed at least two full sets for the main unit, then another set for the second unit, then maybe another set again for the VFX unit,” Finney explains. “If you only have one set of this exotic glass, it’s no good for the show.” 

He tested a vast array of lenses before settling on Zeiss Supremes, supplied by rental house Media Dog. These ticked all the boxes for the project: “They had a really nice look – they’re a modern design but not over sharp, which can look a bit electronic and a bit much, especially with faces. When you’re dealing with a lot of wigs and prosthetics, we didn’t want to go that sharp. The Supremes had a very nice colour palette and nice roll-off. They’re also much smaller than a lot of large-format glass, so that made it easy for Steadicam and remote cranes. They also provided additional metadata, which was very useful for the VFX department (VFX services were provided by Milk VFX).” 

The Supremes were paired with a selection of filters to characterise the show’s varied locations and characters. For example, Tiffen Bronze Glimmerglass were paired with bookshop scenes; Black Pro-Mist was used for Hell; and Black Diffusion FX for Crowley’s present-day storyline.  

Finney worked closely with the show’s DIT, Donald MacSween, and colourist, Gareth Spensley, to develop the look for the minisode.

Maximising minisodes 

Episodes two, three and four of season two each contain a ‘minisode’ – an extended flashback set in Biblical times, 1820s Edinburgh and wartime London respectively. “Douglas wanted the minisodes to have very strong identities and look as different from the present day as possible, so we’d instantly know we were in a minisode and not the present day,” Finney explains.  

One way to shape their distinctive look was through using Cooke anamorphic lenses. As Finney notes: “The Cookes had the right balance of controllable, anamorphic-style flares and characteristics without having so much veiling flare that they would be hard to use on green screens. They just struck the right balance of aesthetics, VFX requirements and availability.” The show adopted the anamorphic aspect ratio (2:39.1), an unusual move for a comedy, but one which offered them more interesting framing opportunities. 

Good Omens 2 was shot on the Alexa LF, paired with Zeiss Supremes for the present-day scenes.

The minisodes were also given various levels of film grain to set them apart from the present-day scenes. Finney first experimented with this with the show’s DIT Donald MacSween using the DaVinci Resolve plugin FilmConvert. Taking that as a starting point, the show’s colourist, Company 3’s Gareth Spensley, then crafted his own film emulation inspired by two-strip Technicolor. “There was a lot of testing in the grade to find the look for these minisodes, with different amounts of grain and different types of either Technicolor three-strip or two-strip,” Finney recalls. “Then we’d add grain and film weave on that, then on top we added film flares. In the Biblical scenes we added more dust and motes in the air.”  

Establishing the show’s lighting was a key part of Finney’s testing process, working closely with gaffer Scott Napier and drawing upon PKE Lighting’s inventory. Good Omens’ new Scottish location posed an initial challenge: as the studio was in an old warehouse rather than being purpose-built for filming, its ceilings weren’t as high as one would normally expect. This meant Finney and Napier had to work out a low-profile way of putting in a lot of fixtures. 

Inside Crowley’s treasured Bentley.

Their first task was to test various textiles, LED wash lights and different weight loadings, to establish what they were working with for the street exteriors. “We worked out that what was needed were 12 SkyPanels per 20’x20’ silk, so each one was a block of 20’x20’, then we scaled that up,” Finney recalls. “I wanted a very seamless sky, so I used full grid cloth which made it very, very smooth. That was important because we’ve got lots of cars constantly driving around the set and the sloped windscreens reflect the ceiling. So we had to have seamless textiles – PKE had to source around 12,000 feet of textiles so that we could put them together, so the reflections in the windscreens of the cars just showed white gridcloth rather than lots of stage lights. We then drove the car around the set to test it from different angles.”  

On the floor, they mostly worked with LEDs, providing huge energy and cost savings for the production. Astera’s Titan Tubes came in handy for a fun flashback scene with John Hamm’s character Gabriel. The DP remembers: “[Gabriel] was travelling down a 30-foot feather tunnel. We built a feather tunnel on the stage and wrapped it in a ring of Astera tubes, which were then programmed by dimmer op Jon Towler to animate, pulse and change different colours. Each part of Gabriel’s journey through his consciousness has a different colour to it.” 

Among the rigs built was a 20-strong Creamsource Vortex setup for the graveyard scene in the “Body Snatchers” minisode, shot in Stirling. “We took all the yokes off each light then put them on a custom-made aluminium rig so we could have them very close. We put them up on a big telehandler on a hill that gave me a soft mood light, which was very adjustable, windproof and rainproof.” 

Shooting on the VP stage for the birth of the universe scenes in episode one.

Sky’s the limit 

A lot of weather effects were done in camera – including lightning effects pulsed in that allowed both direct fork lightning and sheet lightning to spread down the streets. In the grade, colourist Spensley was also able to work his creative magic on the show’s skies. “Gareth is a very artistic colourist – he’s a genius at changing skies,” Finney says. “Often in the UK you get these very boring, flat skies, but he’s got a library of dramatic skies that you can drop in. That would usually be done by VFX, but he’s got the ability to do it in Baselight, so a flat sky suddenly becomes a glorious sunset.” 

Finney emphasises that the grade is a very involved process for a series like Good Omens, especially with its VFX-heavy nature. “This means VFX sequences often need extra work when it comes back into the timeline,” says the DP. “So, we often add camera movement or camera shake to crank the image up a bit. Having a colourist like Gareth is central to a big show like Good Omens, to bring all the different visual elements together and to make it seamless. It’s quite a long grade process but it’s worth its weight in gold.” 

Shooting in the VR cube for the blitz scenes .

Finney took advantage of virtual production (VP) technology for the driving scenes in Crowley’s classic Bentley. The volume was built on their Scottish set: a 4x7m cube with a roof that could go up and down on motorised winches as needed. “We pulled the cars in and out on skates – they went up on little jacks, which you could then rotate and move the car around within the volume,” he explains. “We had two floating screens that we could move around to fill in and use as additional source lighting. Then we had generated plates – either CGI or real location plates –projected 360º around the car. Sometimes we used the volume in-camera but if we needed to do more work downstream; we’d use a green screen frustum.” Universal Pixels collaborated with Finney to supply in-camera VFX expertise, crew and technical equipment for the in-vehicle driving sequences and rear projection for the crucial car shots. 

John Hamm was suspended in the middle of this lighting rig and superimposed into the feather tunnel.

Interestingly, while shooting at a VP stage in Leith, the team also used the volume as a huge, animated light source in its own right – a new technique for Finney. “We had the camera pointing away from [the volume] so the screen provided this massive, IMAX-sized light effect for the actors. We had a simple animation of the expanding universe projected onto the screen so the actors could actually see it, and it gave me the animated light back on the actors.”  

Bringing such esteemed authors’ imaginations to the screen is no small task, but Finney was proud to helped bring Crowley and Aziraphale’s adventures to life once again. He adds: “What’s nice about Good Omens, especially when there’s so much bad news in the world, is that it’s a good news show. It’s a very funny show. It’s also about good and evil, love and doing the right thing, people getting together irrespective of backgrounds. It’s a hopeful message, and I think that that’s what we all need.” 

Finney is no stranger to the idiosyncratic world of Sir Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman.

[starkwlkr]

I LOVE YOUR CHARLES FICS ESPECIALLY THE RUBY ONES OMG! This might sound strange, but could you write one where Y/N gets tired of the paparazzi and tries to physically fight a reporter? Kinda like the björk reporter incident in the 90’s. I wanna hear Charles and ruby’s reactions!

that’s my wife! | charles leclerc

charles: you know the only reason i got married was so i could yell that’s my wife whenever i wanted?

also i made it SLIGHTLY different so instead of fighting the paparazzi, mama leclerc throws hands with toxic f1 fanboys 😍

Y/n always hated paparazzi, it was no surprise. She knew from the start of her relationship with Charles that she would be photographed whenever they stepped out. She knew what she was getting herself into when she started dating Charles and she tried to ignore it. It worked for a couple years and then Ruby and Mathéo came along. Being a mother changed Y/n. She was more protective of her children and husband.

When she wasn’t in the paddock, she was back home in Monaco with the kids and Pascale. The wag pages updated on where she was and some fans would try to find her.

During the week that Charles was away, Y/n was out with the kids in sunny Monaco. Ruby needed new school supplies and Y/n needed to buy Mathéo new clothes so she took both of her kids to the store. Charles has told her many times to at least have someone with her when she went out, but Y/n didn’t think it was necessary.

“Maman! Can I have this one?” Ruby pointed to a pink backpack that was on a window display.

“You already have a backpack, my love, we are only buying items we need like journals and books for you and new clothes for Théo, okay? And maybe we’ll get ice cream after. How does that sound?” Y/n asked the little girl, who seemed bummed that she wasn’t getting the pretty pink backpack she saw, but cheered up when her maman mentioned ice cream.

Ruby held onto the stroller as the family of three walked the sidewalk to the nearest store that sold school supplies. That’s when Ruby noticed a man pointing his phone at them. She wondered why and asked her maman.

“Let’s go inside, quickly.” Y/n told Ruby as they finally made it to the store.

“Why is he staring?” Ruby stared back at the man and even stuck out her tongue at him when he wouldn’t stop recording.

“Don’t pay attention, Ruby Jules. Let’s go.” Y/n grabbed Ruby’s hand.

“I don’t like him, maman.” Ruby whispered.

“I don’t either,” Y/n sighed as she started her shopping. But the man, who was still recording, decided to make her day worse.

“Tell Charles that Max is the better driver!” He was clearly trying to get a reaction out of her. “Fuck Ferrari!”

And suddenly, Y/n had so much anger built up in her that it made her snatch the phone from the man’s hands and throw it as far as possible. It practically landed on the other side of the shop.

“What the fuck!”

“Don’t ever disrespect my husband like that. Have the day you deserve, shithead.” Y/n turned the stroller holding a sleeping Mathéo and grabbed Ruby’s hand. “Fuck you.” She pushed past the man as she exited the shop.

As the mom had her back turned, Ruby stuck her tongue out again at the stranger.

“And then maman said a bad word and we left! But the phone flew so far and the man looked like he was going to cry!” Ruby said enthusiastically into the phone. Charles was still gone, but news spread of the incident in the shop. Most people were defending Y/n’s actions since the man was clearly harassing the family.

“Really? So maman almost made a grown man cry, that’s my wife!” Charles laughed. Before talking with Ruby on the phone, he had gotten the full story from his wife.

“That’s my maman!” Ruby yelled.

[ckret2]

Chapter 66 of that fic about human Bill but he's not in this chapter so forget about him: Ford and Dipper go cryptid hunting!

This is pretty much a standalone chapter so if somehow you stumbled on this without seeing the rest of the fic, u can just, read it by itself as a standalone Dipper and Ford adventure. It's funny. Promise.

####

The camera turned on to reveal Dipper, illuminated sunset orange and cast in heavy shadows, holding the camera out at arm's length. "Welcome back to Dipper's Guide to the Unexplained, anomaly #175: the Fremont Nightwigglers!" He held up a paper title card in his free hand. "I'm Dipper Pines, and today I'm honored to introduce our special guest star—" he turned the camera around to focus on Ford from behind, "—the one and only Dr. Stanford Pines, PhD times twelve—"

Ford laughed self-consciously. "Dipper, nobody's going to recognize my name outside of a few highly specialized academic fields—"

"—the scientist who developed the Theory of Weirdness—"

"That paper isn't even ready for peer review yet, and I can't take all the credit—"

"—and the coolest dimension-hopping monster-fighting mystery-investigating great uncle in the world!"

Ford paused thoughtfully. "Okay, I'll take that one."

"Tonight, we're on the trail of the Fremont Nightwigglers." The recording cut to CCTV footage from a much higher-budget cryptid-hunting show (which Dipper had recorded by aiming the camera at the TV). The footage showed two marshmallow-like creatures that seemed to consist solely of heads, long legs, and feet—smooth, ghostly white, and featureless except for black eyes. They wore denim jeans that covered their bodies from ankles to waists, and their legs seemed to bend jointlessly, like an octopus's arms or an elephant's trunk. "These weird armless creatures have been seen up and down the west coast states, leaving behind a wave of jeans thefts at clothing stores; but by the time local law enforcement has ruled out any human suspects, the true culprits are always long gone."

The recording cut back to Dipper, who'd taken the lead so he could turn around the camera and aim it at both himself and Ford. "Based on investigative research done by Dr. Pines in the 80s, we believe the Nightwigglers have a migratory route several years long that passes through California, Oregon, Washington, and Canada. More research is needed to find out if they travel as far as Alaska or Mexico. Locals believe each Nightwiggler creates an individual burrow around a communal gathering spot to hide in during the day, and at night they assemble in the communal spot to travel or forage in nearby towns."

Ford threw in, "Based on what the townspeople told me about their habits, they've been in Gravity Falls much longer than usual. It typically takes them a week or two to pass through the area, but this year there have been sightings for more than a month. Perhaps we'll find out why."

"And thanks to a hot tip from an in-the-know local"—the recording cut to a few seconds of footage of Wendy proving she could do a handstand on the split-rail fence around the Mystery Shack—"we know which assembly spot they're currently camping around! Tonight, we're trying to get the first deliberate footage of a Nightwiggler..." Dipper lowered the camera and turned toward Ford, "Hey, what'll we call a group of them? A flock? Herd? Meeting? If we're the first investigators to officially document the species, we get to come up with the name , right?"

Ford considered the question. "What about a wobble of Nightwigglers? Since their legs are so... wobbly."

"Sure, that works."

"Is this really your 175th episode?" Ford asked. "I've missed quite a few."

"Ye—well..." Dipper lowered the camera. It recorded his shoes as he walked. "So far I've got a list of 175 anomalies I want to do an episode on, but I've only recorded and posted thirty-something. I think you've seen them all except the two I've done this summer." He sighed. "I'm... kinda disappointed by it, honestly."

"Why? You should be proud of your work so far! You're the only person in the world who's caught footage of the Hide Behind."

"By accident."

"Because you learned how to identify its call, chased it through half the forest, and were prepared with the right equipment to record it. That wasn't luck, Dipper—that was your hard work."

"I guess," Dipper said grudgingly. "I just... wanted to have a lot more produced by now."

"Wh—You started these last June? That's about one every two weeks. That's a very impressive output."

"I made most of them last summer, I hardly did any over the last school year or this summer."

"You've been focusing on your studies, that's good."

"Yeah, but what about this summer? All I've done so far is borrow some of Robbie's music video footage to make an episode about zombies and record some footage I haven't edited yet about Pacifica's alpaca thief. I didn't even get any footage of the haunted doll crane game before it disappeared. Most of the time I've been just... hiding in Soos's room playing Bloodcraft: Overdeath"—(under his breath Ford muttered "Blood-craft over death?")—"or hanging out with Wendy and her friends, or helping Soos with the Mystery Shack, or just trying to avoid..." He trailed off, suddenly conscious of the camera still aimed at the ground. It had started recording footprints drying in the mud after the recent rain: soft indents like the pads of paws, but with no distinct toes, about the size and length of human feet. Dipper lifted the camera to better record the trail they were walking down.

"Well... there's nothing wrong with taking a break during the summer," Ford said. "Especially considering that your last summer was... quite a bit more exciting than most kids'—"

"That's just it!" Dipper said. "Last summer I did so much! I investigated your disappearance, I filled half of your third journal, I helped stop the apocalypse, I wrote a book with Mabel about solving mysteries and doing fun stuff, I recorded like twenty Guides to the Unknown... Compared to that, this summer I feel like I'm—falling behind."

"Falling behind what?"

"I don't know. But—I just—I... feel like..." He trailed off with a frustrated sigh. "I don't know."

Ford offered, "Maybe, like you're not living up to your own potential?"

"Yes! That's it," Dipper said. "I'm not trying to grow up too fast, I'm just worried I'll grow up before I've done all the stuff I'm supposed to do now. Like I'm already running out of time."

"Hmm..." Ford let out a long, thoughtful sigh. "Dipper, I'm probably the wrong person to be giving this advice, considering that I'm not exactly... the paragon of moderation when it comes to pursuing professional ambitions. But—remember that you're only thirteen. Right now, you don't need to be worried about graduating valedictorian and starting up an anomaly-hunting show and doing groundbreaking research into previously-unknown strange and wondrous creatures," Ford said. "You just need to focus on graduating valedictorian first. That's all I did with my high school years, and after that I still managed to rack up multiple PhDs before age 30. You've got plenty of time!" He said this with the confidence of a man who didn't realize having his life derailed by a manipulative alien villain was the only reason he didn't burn out hard by 1984. "Outside of that, just... worry about being a kid."

"Yeah. I guess you're right. Thanks, Grunkle Ford," Dipper said. "I keep worrying, though. I keep thinking, what if I'm wasting all my time on stuff that... just... doesn't matter? What if nothing I'm doing is actually important?"

Ford was silent a moment. "That's... a very existential question for your age. How long have you been worrying—"

Dipper hissed, "Grunkle Ford!" He jerked his camera up. "Is that fire?!" There was a faint orange glow in the distance between the trees.

"I think it is!"

Dipper whispered, "That's where I found the Nightwigglers' abanadoned campsite last time!"

"Did you see any signs that they knew how to start fires? Remains of a campfire?"

"I didn't notice anything."

"It could be a Scampfire..."

As quietly as they could, Dipper and Ford edged through the trees, Dipper all the while pointing the camera toward the light, until they found a narrow gap between two trees from which they could peer into the clearing.

There were three or four dozen Nightwigglers milling about in little clusters. Several had lit torches—sturdy sticks with the ends wrapped in fabric—which they carried by sticking the ends of the torches into their jeans' pockets.

"Dipper, look at the tops of their torches," Ford hissed. "Is that shredded denim?"

The camera zoomed in on the nearest torchbearing Nightwiggler. "I think so."

"We already knew they wore clothing—but they can make tools, too? How advanced are they..."

Ford trailed off as the clustered Nightwigglers separated, spreading out evenly into several rings. As the camera recorded, they began emitting a synchronized muffled humming; and then they began dancing, kicking their legs and turning in circles together. "Whoa," Dipper whispered. "Is this some kind of ritual?"

"What's its purpose?" Ford whispered back. "Recreation? Religion? Some sort of cultural event—?"

"Hold on. I think I recognize the song."

Ford and Dipper fell silent, watching in silence as the dance repeated a couple of times.

The Nightwigglers were doing the Hokey Pokey.

"Fascinating." The camera lurched sideways, and then turned toward Ford. Ford had stolen Dipper's journal from out of his vest pocket and was hastily taking notes on a blank page. "I had no idea Nightwiggler culture was so influenced by human culture. An hour ago, we didn't even know Nightwigglers have a culture. When could they have observed and learned the Hokey Pokey? It's not exactly a nighttime dance—do they spy on humans during the day?"

Dipper said, "What if we learned the dance from Nightwigglers?"

Ford stopped writing, looked up, and stared at Dipper, mind blown.

Dipper jerked the camera back toward the Nightwigglers as they filed out of the clearing. "Hey! Where are they going now?"

Dipper and Ford waited until the last Nightwiggler had left; and then they quietly followed.

####

After several minutes of silence except for the sound of footsteps, Ford said, "Are we headed toward Mabel's Fault?"

Dipper groaned. "I got enough of this place last week."

"Agreed." 

"Hey, you know Bill said we should rename it 'Bill's Fault'?"

Ford huffed. "Did he really? I don't believe it."

"Yeah. He tried to play it off like, 'oOOoh, I just want creEDit—'"

"That sounds like him—"

They came to a stop as the camera spied the Nightwigglers standing in the clearing around the fault, then they quickly moved off the path into the brush and crept closer. "What are they doing?" Dipper asked as they inched up to the tree line.

"I don't know—they're packed too tightly together for me to see."

"I've got an idea. Hold this." The camera bounced as Dipper passed it to Ford, who watched as Dipper climbed up one of the pine trees around the clearing. 

"Careful! There aren't a lot of low branches that can hold your weight."

"It's okay, Wendy showed me how to do this." Dipper held out his hand for the camera.

Ford passed it up to him. "What do you see?"

The camera foused on Mabel's Fault. "The Nightwigglers closest to the fault are taking off their jeans, ripping them into two separate legs, and... tossing them in the fault? Have you ever heard of this?"

"Never."

"Like a dozen have done it so far."

"Perhaps that's why they have to steal so many pairs of pants? But why..."

Dipper gasped. Tiny Nightwigglers had begun squirming out of the fault, each wearing a single denim pant leg, crawling around like inchworms with half the pant leg trailing behind them. The bigger Nightwigglers picked up the little ones with their feet and swaddled them in the excess fabric. "They're—I think they're baby Nightwigglers! Coming out of the fault!"

"Amazing! Is this how they reproduce?" Ford asked. "Is that why they travel the west coast—are they following the San Andreas Fault and the volcanoes in the Pacific Northwest?"

"Maybe that's why they've been in town so long," Dipper said. "Mabel's Fault wasn't here the last time they passed through."

"We'll have to find out what other towns they stay in the longest. How far is Fremont from the fault line—?"

"Hey," Dipper said, "A bunch more Nightwigglers took their jeans off. They're tying them in a circle." One of the torchbearer Nightwigglers knelt down and bowed forward, setting the jeans ring on fire; and it was tossed into the fault. The Nightwigglers that weren't carrying infants formed a circle and began Hokey Pokeying toward the fault.

"That definitely looks like a ritual," Ford said, "but why? To celebrate the births...?"

The ground rumbled. Dipper gasped and slipped several feet down the tree before he caught himself. When he refocused the camera, Mabel's Fault was several feet wider, and a fiery glow was rising up from within.

An enormous Nightwiggler, fifteen feet tall, climbed out of the fault. It wore a crown of flaming denim and tattered pants formed by stitching together many pairs of decades-old jeans. The Nightwigglers bowed down.

"Good lord," Ford breathed. "What is that? Did they summon it, or—or was it always down there?"

The giant Nightwiggler watched regally as its subjects danced around it. As they spun around and completed another repetition of the Hokey Pokey—that's what it's all a-BOUT—the giant punctuated the end of the dance with a ground-shaking stomp.

Dipper lost his grip on the tree. He and the camera crashed to the ground with a yelp. 

"Dipper! Are you alright?!"

"Ow... fine, probably just bruised."

The camera caught Ford kneeling to help Dipper sit up, and then Dipper grabbed the camera again as he stood. He pointed it back at the clearing.

Every single Nightwiggler, babies and giant included, was staring at them with wide black eyes.

Ford said, "Uh oh."

The giant let out a bellow like a muffled hunting horn.

The Nightwigglers charged.

Dipper and Ford ran away through the brush, screaming.

####

Dipper pointed the camera at his face. His hair was plastered to his forehead with sweat and his cheeks and arms were covered in small branch scrapes. "Still works," he reported to Ford.

"Great," Ford said. "That thing's hardy."

The camera jerked as Dipper tried to set it on a tree stump.

"Well, we got away with our lives," he said. "But... not without some losses."

He got the camera settled and backed up. He was wearing his vest zipped up around his hips like a skirt. Ford's trench coat was conspicuously buttoned up, and his legs were bare between his coat and boots. They both looked sheepish.

Ford said, "We've acquired some invaluable anthropological data, though."

"I'm calling this investigation a triumph," Dipper said.

Ford offered a hand. "High six!"

In the background, a skinny-legged Nightwiggler wearing Dipper's shorts darted through the trees.

####

(It's about time Dipper get a little personal attention. Hope you enjoyed and I look forward to hearing y'all's thoughts!)

[generalsmemories]

How do I tell my husband he got scammed into buying a lion?

✧ jing yuan x gn!reader

✧ summary: during one autumn afternoon you're suddenly faced with another one of your husband's impulsive purchases. only that this time it's a living being.

✧ content: established relationship, fluff, humor, might be a bit ooc

✧ a/n: hello there hsr fandom! i have unfortunately lost the battle against myself on making another sideblog for jing yuan, the man who has singlehandedly occupied my mind since his first appearance in the beta. i do hope that this will actually appear in the tags, but every infomation you would need if you want to request something is all up on the blog if you so wish! i hope we can have a pleasant time together !!

also this is not beta-read, we die like how fast my resolve to not create a jing yuan blog died.

Being the spouse of the Arbiter-General of the Xianzhou Luofu comes with it's share of benefits and disadvantages. For one you're regarded at a higher position than most of it's citizens, often being stopped on the side of the road when taking a walk to exchange numerous pleasantries with merchants from outside of Xianzhou, various store owners or cloud knights on duty.

Another factor is shouldering the burden your husband has on his shoulder, an oath you had taken yourself the day you accepted Jing Yuan's nth proposal. You considered that a fair trade with his vast knowledge and insight into a possible future and doing everything behind the scene to avoid colliding headfirst into said problem. A feat that attracted you towards the general in the first place, minus his dashing looks of course.

The biggest disadvantage of publicly announcing that you were indeed the Arbiter-General's significant other was doing everything within your power to not throw your husband's famous title away for a newer, more terrible one. (more utc!)

Because as you see him walking up the steps of the Seat of Divine Foresight, your gaze is not locked with your husband's smiling face, rather it's fixated on the small being he has cradled in his arms. The soft smile you had quickly spreading into a more nervous and confused smile as you glance over at Qingzu, the counselor looking at you with just as much confusion.

How in the world did you manage to leave him alone out in the market area for an hour and he comes back with a lion cub?

"[Name], darling! Look at this grimalkin that a merchant had!"

A what now?

"... A grimalkin, you say?" Every book that has recorded history had specified that the grimalkin species had gone extinct, and you were well aware that your husband knew this fact. And yet here you were, faced with his smile directed down towards what you can clearly tell is a lion cub, his thumb pressing down at its paws affectionately.

You're starting to think that Yanqing's impulsive purchases with his sword collection aligns with your own husband's impulsiveness.

Coughing loudly into your hand, you take a deep breath before descending down the stairs to be on the same level as Jing Yuan, peering down onto the cub's face. It was indeed cute, and judging by how enamored Jing Yuan is, you can clearly tell that it's small stature is what attracted him to it in the first place.

Oh he's going to be crushed when it grows up, "It's adorable, Jing Yuan," you settle on saying, waving a finger over the lion's grimalkin face, the animal lifting its paws to try to grab it. You shoot a look towards Qingzu, a silent command for her to look into which outer merchant was now scamming people into buying literal lions. The counselor quickly excusing herself to look into the matter immediately, Jing Yuan only giving her a smile and a wave of his hand as she scurries down the stairs.

"Right? I decided to name it Mimi," he muses, and your heart breaks a tiny bit for him, but there are more pressing matters at hand than the fact that your husband once again got scammed because he was most likely bored out of his mind.

You would rather that the Xianzhou citizens know him as "The Dozing General" instead of the general that gets scammed a few times too many. How does one even go on about trying to tell their husband that the grimalkin in his arms is actually a lion?

"A fitting name indeed," you mutter, raising a hand to caress Jing Yuan's cheek, a simple gesture to make the general direct his attention to you. However, you could still see that his guard was slightly up with you. You only chuckle at that, leaning in to slide your lips over his own, Jing Yuan wasting no time to press back.

Another well hidden secret reserved for the walls of the Divine Foresight is the fact your husband is incredibly weak for his own spouse.

"... Want to tell me how much you paid for Mimi, dear?" you ask in a whisper when your lips part, thumb caressing over the mole under his eye.

Jing Yuan merely smiles, twisting his head to press his lips against your hand instead, "It was from my personal wallet, dear. Please don't fret over the small details."

"Darling, I hope you're aware that the small details would be the necessary funding for accomodation, toys and food, right?" you say with a chuckle, your husband freezing with his ministrations upon remembering that fact.

Oh well, you want to see how long it takes before your husband comes to realization that it's a lion. You just have to be extra vigilant towards the numerous fundings in the meantime.

While scrolling through your schedule for the next morning, your phone dings with a message from Qingzu. You quickly look down at Mimi whose resting on your belly and then at Jing Yuan whose sleeping self is still snoring away by your shoulder before letting out a small sigh in relief that the loud noise didn't awake any of them.

Qingzu:

Do I even have a say in this?

Was the message sent by Qingzu, attatched to it is a picture taken of what you can only presume is one of Jing Yuan's "diaries". The contents of it making you let out a low laugh, the shaking making said man beside you grumble before pressing his face into your neck.

Attatched image:

"Eventually, I paid hefty sum for the grimalkin, named it "Mimi", and took it home. Only that I'm too busy with official business and have little time to take care of Mimi. After thinking it over, chores like feeding it and changing its water should also be entrusted to Qingzu. I do wonder why [Name] looked so distraught when they first saw Mimi though. Maybe they didn't think I would favor the petite and small animals instead of the usual large and strong ones?"

[Name]:

So Qingzu, do you have an idea what the easiest way to tell someone they got scammed is?

Qingzu:

That is the role of the spouse, not the counselor.

[ariaste]

Hello, published author here who just noticed a thing in the s3 teaser that may help us to determine the timeline:

This is not an ARC. ARCs, aka "Advance Review Copies" or "Advance Reader Copies" are sent out in advance of the publication of a book in order for magazines/newspapers/whoever (and these days, online book influencers) to review it, and for booksellers to have a chance to read it so they can order copies for their store and hand-sell it better on publication day. ARCs usually go out around 3-4 months before publication.

ARCs are also sometimes called "advance uncorrected proofs" because they usually haven't been through copyedits yet (aka typo-finding and punctuation-checking). ARCs are always clearly marked on the front cover as what they are, to make it harder for people to sell them online and so that bookstores don't accidentally put them out as merchandise.

We know that the IWTV team knows this becaaaaause, from the end of s2e8:

*THAT'S* an ARC. You can see how it says so all over, both "advance reader's copy" and "advance uncorrected proof". It's also a paperback (as ARCs usually are) rather than the hardback that Lestat is holding -- all very typical and correct.

And here is a finished copy. And we know exactly how far after publication it is, because:

Daniel also gives a shout out to a "book fair" and Atlanta, which I take to mean the Decatur Book Festival, which takes place in October. So that means the book would have been published in June -- nice timing! Get all that good Pride Month promo for this gay-ass vampire memoir. So far we are nailing the Expected Publishing Industry Timeline And Behaviors.

So the only thing I can tell you definitively about what this means is that Louis got that ARC probably in February, aka around eight fucking months ago at the end of s2, and still hasn't even skimmed it, and that is HILARIOUS of him. not a shred of guilt on him about it either. (if you get a print ARC (as opposed to an e-ARC) and you don't even read it, it is polite to be a little embarrassed about that. not my personal best friend Louis DPDL tho.)

As for whether Daniel is a vampire during the s3 trailer -- the thing we are all clamoring to know -- I have two possible ways the timeline could be working, given the publishing industry stuff:

OPTION 1: Louis leaves Dubai -> Goes to New Orleans for Depression Hovel reunion, refuses to get back together with Lestat -> Lestat "I will woo him back with a Song, just like last time. ok that didn't work I'LL GO BIGGER. that didn't work. BIGGER" Lioncourt starts his rockstar career as a Gotta Get My Man Back tantrum -> Daniel finishes the manuscript, delivers it to his publisher, and sends an ARC to Louis (February) -> Book is published, bestseller (June) -> Daniel (who was turned at some unknown point) goes on TV about it (October) -> famous currently-bestselling journalist gets in touch with up-and-coming rockstar to get his side of the story -> Lestat has a mental breakdown on camera about how Louis is not even paying attention to all the albums he is recording, hurtful, tragic, heartbreaking

or

OPTION 2: Daniel DEFINITELY got out of Dubai alive -> [all of the above up to "Daniel sends an ARC to Louis"] -> book is getting great reviews -> already-famous Pulitzer Prize-winning journalist gets in contact with up-and-coming rockstar to do the sequel even before the book is out (slightly odd publishing choice but when you have two Pulitzers, the rules are different, so it's not implausible) -> Daniel gets his finished copies of the book (which brings us to probably May at the earliest; you don't usually get your finished copies more than a month in advance) and has one on set for interviewing Lestat -> Lestat has his sexy little rockstar breakdown on camera -> Daniel is human for interviewing Lestat but gets turned by Armand somewhere in the five-month span between finished copies arriving in May and his TV interview in October.

Option 1 gives the show writers a little more timeline wiggle room, which can be useful, but Option 2 is more Dramatic and builds extra tension if Daniel is trying to do this interview while not having a good time with his Parkinson's. Either way Louis is just out here not answering anybody's phone calls or reading the lovely ARC he was so thoughtfully sent bc he's busy redecorating his house.

THAT SAID, please take all of this with a grain of salt, i have been losing my mind over the s3 trailer and i may have missed something

this has been your war correspondent a report from the publishing industry. thank you and goodnight

[ratgrinders]

Never Stop Blowing Up Favorite Movies

Wendell Morris

Weird Science - 1985 science fantasy/teen comedy. "Nerdy social outcast students Gary Wallace and Wyatt Donnelly are humiliated by senior jocks Ian and Max for swooning over their cheerleader girlfriends. Humiliated and disappointed at their direction in life and wanting more, Gary is inspired by the 1931 classic Frankenstein to create a virtual woman using Wyatt's computer, infusing her with everything they can conceive to make the perfect dream woman."

The Fast and the Furious - "A media franchise centered on a series of action films that are largely concerned with street racing, heists, spies, and family."

Real Genius - 1985 science fiction/comedy. "Chris Knight, a genius in his senior year, is paired with a new student on campus, Mitch Taylor, to work on a chemical laser, only to learn it will be used for dangerous purposes."

Liv Skyler

Empire Records - 1995 coming-of-age comedy/drama. "The film follows a group of record store employees over the course of one exceptional day. The employees try to stop the store from being sold to a large chain, and learn about each other along the way."

Scarface - 1983 crime drama, and a remake of the 1932 film of the same name. "It tells the story of Cuban refugee Tony Montana, who arrives penniless in Miami during the Mariel boatlift and becomes a powerful drug lord." Additionally, "Less than two months before the film's release, Scarface was given an X rating by the MPAA for "excessive and cumulative violence and for language".

Clueless - 1995 coming-of-age teen comedy. "Considered to be one of the best teen films of all time...The plot centers on a beautiful, popular, and rich high school student who befriends a new student and decides to give her a makeover while playing matchmaker for her teachers and examining her own existence".

Usha Rao

The Horse in Motion - Published in 1878, a sequential series of 6 cabinet cards depicting the movement of a horse. Regarded as "the world's first bit of cinema", and the first film ever created.

Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde - 1931 horror film. "An adaptation of The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, the 1886 Robert Louis Stevenson tale of a man who takes a potion which turns him from a mild-mannered man of science into a homicidal maniac."

102 Not Out - 2018 Indian Hindi-language comedy drama. "Dattatraya Vakharia is a lively 102-year-old who lives his life to the maximum and takes everything in a jovial way for his heart is that of a 26-year-old youngster regardless of his age. His 75-year-old son, Babulal Vakharia, is his exact opposite for he believes that he is now too old and fragile to enjoy life and lives a routine life."

Russell Feeld

American Gigolo - 1980 neo-noir crime drama. "A high-priced male escort who becomes romantically involved with a prominent politician's wife, while simultaneously becoming the prime suspect in a murder case."

La Femme Nikita - 1990 French-language action thriller. "[Nikita] is a criminal who is convicted and sentenced to life imprisonment for murdering policemen during an armed pharmacy robbery. Her government handlers fake her death and recruit her as a professional assassin. After intense training, she starts a career as a killer, where she struggles to balance her work with her personal life."

Waking Life - 2001 animated film. "The film explores a wide range of philosophical issues, including the nature of reality, dreams and lucid dreams, consciousness, the meaning of life, free will, and existentialism. It is centered on a young man who wanders through a succession of dreamlike realities wherein he encounters a series of people who engage in insightful philosophical discussions."

Andy 'Dang' Litefoot

Suburbia - 1983 coming-of-age drama thriller. Follows "a group of suburban youths who run away from home and adopt a punk lifestyle by squatting in abandoned suburban tract homes."

Goldfinger - 1964 spy film and the third installment in the James Bond series. "The film's plot has Bond investigating gold smuggling by gold magnate Auric Goldfinger and eventually uncovering Goldfinger's plans to contaminate the United States Bullion Depository at Fort Knox."

Fire in the Sky - 1993 biographical science fiction mystery. "It is based on Travis Walton's book The Walton Experience, which describes an extraterrestrial abduction"

Paula Donvalson

Muriel's Wedding - 1994 Australian comedy-drama. "The film focuses on the socially awkward Muriel whose ambition is to have a glamorous wedding and improve her personal life by moving from her dead-end hometown, the fictional Porpoise Spit, to Sydney."

The Long Kiss Goodnight - 1996 action thriller. "The story follows an amnesiac schoolteacher who sets out to recover her identity with the help of a private detective when they discover a dark conspiracy."

Under the Tuscan Sun - 2003 romantic comedy-drama. "Based on Frances Mayes' 1996 memoir of the same name, the film is about a recently divorced writer who buys a villa in Tuscany on a whim, hoping it will lead to a change in her life."

[thesparklingwriter]

an unexpected surprise

tags: smut, omegaverse, afab! reader, omega!reader, alpha!zhongli, consensual somno, pet names, reader is in heat, zhongli is in rut, reader pregnancy in afterword, idk if genuine excitement to start a family counts as breeding kink, I STILL think this is somewhat fluffy if not vanilla

word count: 4k (side note what the fuck)

a/n: is celeste doing a good job of hiding the breeding kink or no

masterlist | taglist

It’s scarily easy to forget, you concede. It’s too easy to just question why your stomach is killing you all of a sudden. Or why that stack of pillows in the living room is calling out your name like a record player on repeat. Or why letting Zhongli go on that work trip last week almost made you want to fall to your knees and beg him not to.

But once you realise it's your heat breaking, it's almost like your body doubles down. With Zhongli returning from his trip within two days, there’s really no point in worrying him with the information. His ever-righteous alpha urges would have him running home in a heartbeat, and you can't be responsible for that. 

So you call in sick to work for the next week, and if anyone knows why, they don’t question you, and you resign yourself to a horrible few days by yourself. You wear Zhongli’s clothes in the hopes that enough of his scent is left behind to cool your impulses a little. Still, it’s only so long before silk is the only fabric your clammy skin can bear, and since his pyjamas have been freshly laundered, there’s really no point in even trying. 

You reluctantly switch to your own clothes again, a silk night dress you've adored since the day Zhongli bought it for you, and focus on building a nest in the spare room to distract yourself. It works so well, in fact, that you wonder how Zhongli will ever fit between the pillows you've piled up —you subconsciously only made it big enough for yourself. The spare room is good because it's the smallest—in fact, it's so small that calling it a room is almost an exaggeration. It was initially an overzealous store cupboard that you ended up forming an affinity to during your heats, and while it was never a badly kept room, Zhongli couldn’t bear the thought of you using a cupboard when you were most vulnerable, so he had it remodelled. It was worth it to him, even if you were only using it 6 times a year.

This would be the third out of six heats this year, and you congratulate yourself on making it halfway through the year without keeling over and calling it quits. But making it through this one would be tricky. One of the many advantages of married life is not having to go through heat alone, and if Zhongli doesn't return home in time, you might explode.

You try to sleep off the anxiety first, surrounded by cooling silk sheets and everything in the house you can find that smells like your alpha, and it works for the first few hours of the night until a heat cramp rips through you and stirs you awake. Zhongli is many things, but above all, he is a doting alpha, and since he has your permission to help you in any way he sees fit during your heats, he has a very good way of satisfying that part of you before a heat cramp can even manifest itself. But since you haven’t experienced a heat cramp to this extent in what feels like years, you find yourself doubled over and whimpering in pain. The waves of agony even have you forgetting how it was that you managed your heats before you found Zhongli and his cool hands and doting kisses and perfect co—

It doesn’t help to think about him, you realise, as another wave of pain shoots through you. If you can make it downstairs to just grab a hot drink, maybe your symptoms will subside enough for you to just take matters into your own hands like you used to, and then you can decide how you want to proceed. So you wait until the waves of pain are retreating, and you take the opportunity to rush downstairs and rifle through Zhongli's stash of teas. He has labelled them meticulously, and even in your dazed, heat-addled state, you know to not disturb it too much. 

You find one that seems to be labelled appropriately and do the worst job of preparing yourself a cup to drink. You know he'd have an aneurysm if he saw you, but times are tough, and he’s not here to help you. He would probably be even more offended by the way you chug the drink, not even pausing to appreciate the notes and intricacies of the flavour as you trudge back upstairs and hope you find the energy for one orgasm to get you through the night.

It's tricky during this phase. Your body only desires carnal pursuits, but your mind is so riddled with anxiety that it feels wrong when you slide your underwear down past your knees, and your other hand gently brushes your nipple. It feels awkward to slip your fingers between your legs, to pretend that it's him who’s fucking you with his fingers, but it works, so you can’t complain. You tell yourself that you’ll clean up before you fall back asleep, but the hours of no sleep are catching up to you, and you fall asleep as you are.

When you wake up again, it's not from a heat cramp or because you need to use the toilet, it's because your heightened senses can hear the front door opening. You take a minute to listen before you panic—Zhongli isn't supposed to be back for another day, but when you realise that it's his steady but hurried footsteps that you hear, the tension leaves your body, and you relax. You don't have the strength to go to him, so you just hope that he finds you here, and he does.

He pushes your door open and glances inside, spotting you curled up in your tiny nest, stressed and anticipating another wave of pain. He feels horrible.

“Oh, my love,” he whispers, walking over to you and taking you in his arms. He carefully nips at your scent glands first and is relieved that from the way you smell, you're in your late preheat, so even though you may have suffered up to this point, it hasn't been the worst your body has to offer. A grateful hum slips from your lips as your eyes close in bliss, and his cool hands against your stomach seem to calm the heat cramp that was building up. “Love, why didn’t you tell me?”

“You were coming back anyway,” you reply, clutching at his shirt and capturing his mouth in a desperate kiss. “No need to bother you.”

“There was every need to bother me,” he whispers, gently adjusting the pillows around you on the bed and stripping off layer after layer after layer. He starts with his gloved hands, and the sight has you clenching on nothing, but you're just happy to finally have him to yourself despite your frustration. “You’re my wife, my mate, my omega. It is my job to take care of you. First and foremost.”

He reaches under you to pick you up, but you protest, grabbing his forearm. “I don’t want to move.”

Zhongli is hit with this unyielding wave of desire, so much so that he has to swallow his thoughts of you round with his child down before he speaks.

“Little love,” he shoots back, gently stroking your hair. “I have to take the contraceptive. Should I leave you here?”

“Don’t,” You say. You’d agreed that the next time your heat and his rut coincided, you’d be more thsn happy to explore the idea of having a child, but with the painful realisation that it might not sync up as fast as you want it to, you’re not holding out on luck.

“Beloved,” Zhongli shoots back, devastatingly beautiful, as you pull out the ribbon that holds his hair back. The image in his mind from earlier shoots back into his mind as he quickly contemplates whether he can take your words as they are, given the stage of your heat. If you were further along, you might say anything to get him inside of you again, but right now, he doesn’t think that’s the case. He takes your hand and gently kisses the inside of your wrist, a familiar action that makes you smile lightly.

“Don’t take it.” you repeat. “I don’t want you to take it.” You gently tug the ends of his hair to pull him closer to you, suddenly over-aware of the fact that your scent glands are begging for his attention. “Please.”

“I don’t want you to have regrets later,” Zhongli says quietly, and this time, when he leans in to nip at your neck again, something in his scent tickles the back of your throat, rich and almost spicy, and it makes you cough. His eyes shoot up to yours as realisation dawns on the both of you.

Zhonglis ruts are less common then your heats, with him experiencing only four a year compared to you. And if the last time they coincided was 2 cycles ago…

“Hm,” Zhongli mutters as you pull him into your nest. “That seems to explain things.” He had returned home early from this work trip for a multitude of reasons. At first, it was your reaction to him leaving, and then it was the dreams and constant thoughts of you that proved difficult to handle during important funeral proceedings, and then it was the thoughts of how you would look pregnant the moment he realised you were in heat. He should have realised sooner, instead of ignoring it and letting you suffer thus far.

“Sleepy?” he asks you, as you bury your face into his chest. But the most you do in the way of a response is make a soft humming sound, your omegan senses calmed by the knowledge that your alpha is close. He is upset by the fact that you didn't feel you could reach him when you needed him, but he knows now you need him more than you need an ultimatum. But for the next few hours, it seems like it’s just a waiting game. He is grateful his rut hasn't set in fully, or else the way you nuzzle into his chest might have driven him half crazy.

He gently strokes your hair, unable to tear his eyes from you for a single second—not only because you're the epitome of beauty to him, but also because he has been away, and he wants to take stock of everything. You once joked that he’d probably notice if a strand of hair on your head went missing, and although he’d laughed it off, he wouldn't be surprised if he could.

Your scent slowly begins to shift to something more sweet as you claw at your husband. You're not awake yet, and you won't be for a while, but you’d given Zhongli explicit permission to do whatever he needed to keep you happy during your heats, and he is always eager to please.

Even still, Zhongli takes his cues from you—if you’re grabbing at his face, he’ll kiss you for as long as you want him to, until you escalate things in your heat-addled slumber. And you do, breathy moans punctuating the kiss until you can take no more, and you're grabbing at his hips.

“What do you want?” Zhongli whispers, as he gently rolls you over onto your back. He’s been ignoring his almost painful hardness in favour of doting on you, but he refuses to forgo his manners the moment sex is on the table.

You whine at him, clawing at him some more, and he chuckles, gently pulling your nightgown up to your waist. He clicks his tongue at the sight of you, practically dripping for him, your underwear nowhere to be found, and as much as he wants to dip his tongue into you, he knows it's cruel to play with you in such ways.

“I know, love. I know.” He whispers to you as he gently enters you. You’re so wet that there's almost no resistance, and the breathy moan that slips out of you is almost too much for him to bear. His mind is almost immediately flooding with thoughts of fucking you into the mattress until you’re both so tired that it will take days to recover, but he would never do anything like that unless you were awake. He may have your permission, but he has his own morals.

“Is this what you wanted?” he whispers as you pull him closer, your head thrown back in silent bliss. Your response is in the way you clench around him, the slight whine in your quiet moans, and the way you dig your nails into his back. Gods, he loves it when you do that. And although it drives him near crazy, he keeps a steady pace until he feels his knot growing. He nips at your scent glands again, using the opportunity to whisper in your ear—filthy words that have you orgasming almost involuntarily, and the way you clench on him as his knot settles into place triggers his. 

He pulls you to the side so the both of you can lie down comfortably, and he is convinced that the satisfied look on your face as his knot keeps all of his cum safe inside you is enough to keep it there for another half hour. 

His estimations turn out to be correct, and by the time you begin to stir, his knot is still going strong. He talks to you as you wake, gently reminding you to not move too suddenly. You’re dazed but, more than anything, grateful for him as you pull him tighter.

“Thank you,” is the first thing you say when you wake up, gently planting a kiss on his cheek. The action, albeit mostly innocent, makes his cock twitch inside you, and you've regained enough of your sanity to laugh. “Rut?”

“It seems so.”

“Did you…?” your question trails off as if the process of asking is too tiresome for you. If he had, you would understand, but your anxiety is understandable. If he had taken it, it would mean you would both have to wait again, and Zhongli would be lying if he said that the idea of being a father would be unfavourable to him.

“As per our agreement, I did not.” 

The smile you give him is so… perfect that Zhongli has to look away before his knot returns with a vengeance, and he opts for pulling you into a hug, the cold silk of your dress against his chest. He wants to bathe you before the next round of cramps set in, otherwise, you will be clammy and irritable, and he learned very quickly that you cannot bear any discomfort that he cannot fix by fucking you during your heats.

He wants to run a hand over your belly, but decides against it, for fear of jinxing things, instead settling on pressing multiple kisses to your head. 

“How do you feel?” he asks you. He’s not entirely sure how far into your preheat you were before he returned home and he’s worried that he hasn’t been able to help all of the symptoms as a result.

“Warm,” you whisper. “How come I’m still wearing this?”

“As you remind me every cycle, doing anything but what an omega in heat explicitly asks of you is essentially torture. You didn't ask me to take it off, so I didn’t.”

You pout at him, and he laughs gently at you. His knot has deflated, so he slowly sits up and pulls you into his arms. “Will you fight me if I offer to bathe you?”

You shake your head no, lifting your arms above your head as he carefully drags your nightdress off. He decides to save himself the hassle of trying to get it completely clean and just get you a new one.

The minute your skin is exposed to the cold air, you wrap your arms around your chest, and Zhongli takes personal offence to that, kissing your arms until you move them, and then kissing your breasts, his tongue flicking out to tease your nipples. From the way your nails dig into him, he realises that's just about as far as you’ll let him go with the teasing, so he picks you up and takes you to the bath. It’s easy when you’re as pliant as you are now—any attempt you make to push back is easily combatted with words of praise and a gentle kiss to your head, and before you know it, you’re clean and dry and pressed up against your lover’s cool skin.

“Are you still certain about this?” Zhongli strokes your hair again, gently scratching your scalp in a way that sends satisfying shivers down your spine. “I can still take the contraceptive if you want.” 

“No. I want this with you,” you reiterate, pulling him into another kiss. You expect him to kiss you back softly, the way he usually does, but the fact he’s in rut has slipped your mind, and the way he captures your lips in a fiery kiss has a wave of need rushing through you. You gasp at the way his teeth graze your neck, the way his hands rest against your skin, still so gentle despite the fact you know he wants to be anything but.

A heat cramp comes over you so suddenly that Zhongli barely has the chance to register the change in your scent, but he’s quick to respond to your whimper. It’s cheeky of him, he knows, but he gently slides a hand up your thigh and lets it play with your clit for little more than a few seconds. Judging by how drenched you are, if he’d allowed himself to play for any longer, you might have taken matters into your own hands.

Zhongli whispers your name, although it comes out as more of a growl than a whisper, and you know he’s asking for your permission to take you the way he wants to—the way he craves. And even though he knows you’ll be fine, in fact, when you’re in heat you’re most compatible for a mate in rut, he feels the need to check. So when you reach for him and bite on his neck as hard as you physically can, he takes that as an okay.

It takes every single piece of patience he has to gently place your legs over his shoulder, and slowly sink himself into you. It takes even more for him to maintain a slow pace when you’re looking up at him like that, even more so when you moan his name in the breathy way he loves so dear.

“Safe word?” he asks through gritted teeth, and only when you repeat it back to him does he let himself relax a little. He slides a pillow under your hips, before whispering: “Brace yourself, love.” And even though he warns you, you’re still shocked by how hard his next thrust is—if you hadn't been in heat, it probably would have been enough to send you over the edge. His hands grip your waist so hard that in the back of your mind, you're convinced that it’s going to bruise, but the rest of your thoughts are blank, a dull hum in your head where words are supposed to be.

“Are you still alright?” he asks, as he moves his hands from your waist to your wrists.

“More. please, more,” you reply, and he obliges, quietly pleased with the way your pleas shift from words to loud moans and desperate whimpers.

“You want me to breed you, don’t you?” his voice is impossibly steady, his eyes trained on you in a way that stops you from looking elsewhere, even after he thrusts into you so hard that you want to throw your head back. Your whispered please is so faint that he almost doesn't hear it, but he does feel you clench desperately around him, and he's almost disappointed that he’s knotting you so soon.

The way you look at him is unfair. The way you scream his name as you orgasm is unfair, the way you close your eyes in bliss as he cums inside you is so. Fucking. Unfair. How is he ever supposed to win against you? You could ask him for the world, and he would create it for you.

“Is it safe to assume you’re satisfied now?” he asks you when you’re once again capable of speech.

“For now,” you respond. And even though you know it's bad to keep things from him, you don’t tell your husband that you don’t feel another heat cramp for the rest of the week.

~~~

“It has been less than a second since I stepped over the threshold of this house and you are already jumping on me.” Zhongli laughs as you barrel into his arms. He notes you smell different, but he can’t pick up what he is. As he picks you up, he thinks that you're slightly heavier than usual, but that could just be his muscles being fatigued from moving packed boxes of paperwork all day.

“You’re home early,” you smile, looking down at him. He manages to get his shoes off and walk you over to the living room, where you curl up next to him on the sofa. You have been increasingly affectionate as of the last few months and increasingly horny too, but you have those phases every so often, so Zhongli does not question it.

He very quickly realises you’re wearing the replacement of the silk nightgown he got rid of during your last heat. He made sure it was a one-to-one replacement, but it fits differently on you now. Not a bad difference, it’s a perfect difference, he concludes.

“I missed you, my love.” he kisses you softly. “More than should be humanely possible.”

“I missed you more.” you grin. You sit between his legs, your back against his chest, your head tilted lightly to the side so he can kiss your neck the way he always does. But this time, he hovers before he kisses you, and you use his sudden pause to take his hands and place them on your belly.

Zhongli’s smile is peaceful. he likes the quietness of being with you, especially when youre so soft against him, and you smell so…sweet. sweeter than usual. more perfect than normal.

he blames his reignited obsession on his rut somehow. it isn’t his first, obviously, but it’s the first time he’s been able to truly spend it with a partner. he doesn’t know what else to blame it on, nothing else has changed.

except for when the fruit vendor looked at you the wrong way and he almost wanted to rip the man’s throat out. or when then bakery didn’t have the bread you wanted, and it made you cry and he wanted to destroy it there and then. and maybe crying over the bread was a little melodramatic, but it was about the time where your heat returned, so he couldn’t judge you.

but he could judge himself for wanting to resort to such barbarism.

“how have you been, love?”

“tired. hungry. bored.” you retort, your hands falling over his on your belly.

“then we should find something for us to do.”

“i think we should look at remodelling the fourth room,” you grin, “it’s going to be a really boring 6 months if we use your idea of fun as a bench mark,” you sigh.

“The room that conjoins ours?” Zhongli replies, ignoring your mild insult. his body seems to understand your words faster than he does, as his thumbs gently start rubbing your belly. “so you don’t want an office anymore?”

Your husband's brain has been replaced with a rock, you decide. 

“Li,” you sigh. “how you have survived so long whilst ignoring your instincts is beyond me.” you tilt you head up so you can look at him as you deliver the news. “i’m pregnant.”

You feel his breathing pause for a second, and the silence that descends between you is warm and comfortable as the words register.

“You’re…” Your husband is speechless. He sits up slowly, his eyes trained on you.

“mmhmm,” you reply, as he gently cradles your face and kisses you softly. it’s only when he pulls away from you that you realise he’s crying.

“oh, my darling,” you smile, pulling him into another hug. “you’ll set me off.”

he pulls away to look at you, eyes shining with unshed tears and eternal love.

“i suppose celebrations are in order,” he says quietly, pressing kisses into your hair, your cheeks, and your neck as you giggle at him. "I am certain you’ll be a great mother, deserving of every praise.”

You smile. “And you’ll be a great father.” you reply. “The best father our child could ever ask for.”

© 2023, thesparklingwriter. please do not copy, edit, repost, or translate.

notes: i have plenty of things to blame this on but I wont even start. can smut be fluffy...? is that a thing? is this enough to make u guys forgive my absence ?

[requinoesis]

⭐The Magic Drawing Pad! 📱✨

I was surprised to receive a Tablet from XPPen in exchange for a review. Here’s my experience! 📝✨

Initially, I thought the tablet's design, meant for drawing away from a workspace and outdoors, didn't suit my lifestyle. As an introvert who rarely leaves the house or is socially active, I decided to review it from a homebody’s perspective.

I've never drawn on a display tablet before, only on regular digital tablets like the Wacom Bamboo and my current Huion Inspiroy Ink. Now, I have the XP-Pen Magic Drawing Pad to try out!

At first, it was frustrating! Everything I drew looked crooked and ugly, and I felt like a fraud. But it wasn't the tablet's fault; it was like learning to draw all over again since I was used to the computer and had abandoned traditional art.

I was rushing, thinking I should be perfect immediately. I took a deep breath and remembered that learning a new tool takes time and patience. Once I gave myself the time to adapt, things started to work out.

I only explored the tablet's basic functions, but its interface is similar to an iPad or cell phone and works well. I transferred files to my computer via Telegram, but Google Drive could also be used.

There are several illustration apps available. I chose Infinite Painter first because it is similar to Procreate. I found it amusing that the process of creating art was recorded while I was drawing!

In conclusion, I find the Magic Drawing Pad to be an ideal tablet for beginners venturing into screen drawing for the first time. It offers a practical and enjoyable experience!

Feel free to ask any questions about this tablet, and I'll do my best to answer them!

They also told me to say that there would be up to 45% off during the Prime Day event on the Amazon store and the official store from July 16th to 17th! 🛍️✨

⭐ - US store: https://amzn.to/3L08x36 ⭐ - CA store: https://amzn.to/3VanP9W

They also recommended this keyboard!

⭐ - ACK08 smart keyboard: https://bit.ly/3VCgAYv

Thanks a lot to the XPPen team for their patience and for the opportunity to try out this tablet!❤️✨

---

I did this little speedpaint experiment too if you want to see! The function of recording while drawing is a very cool experience!

That's it, I hope you like it!✨

[doll-for-you-11]

She lived alone in the city and was super proud of how independent she was. Her parents had told her to stay even during college but her freedom was super important to her and she moved into her own little apartment.

Nothing fancy, just a single bedroom with a small front yard, overlooking the street. It was convenient too, within a short walk from her campus and as it turns out from her eventual work place.

Over the years she had many guests but no one stayed forever. Guess she was a firebrand and it didn’t really attract too many people to her. She didn’t care because she could take care of herself - financially and otherwise.

That is, until something fishy started happening. Her favourite blue bracelet was missing. At first, she thought she had been forgetful and left it at work or somewhere in the apartment. But then, a week later, it happened again. This time a green pair of earrings. Her stuff was being stolen! She was sure of it.

Between work & socialising she didn’t have much time to interact with her next door neigbours, so she never asked them. But one day, she snapped. Something really special her mom gifted her was gone. Outraged, she drove to a local hardware store. She bought and set up a button sized camera, hidden from sight. It had a wide field of vision and recorded the entire room.

With password encryption and notifications on movement or activity enabled, she felt safe. She let the camera record everything she did. Even, her most private moments. She danced in front of it, changed her clothes in front of it too.

She made love to strangers with the camera recording it and never told them. Even watching those videos back when she was alone, touching her beautiful body to them and making herself orgasm from it.

The robberies seemed to have stopped too. Nothing went missing anymore at all. She was happy and satisfied. Perhaps the thief had never been around. Just a figment of her imagination.

That night, without her knowing though, someone watched. As she stripped out of her dress and laid back on the bed. Pillow between her beautiful legs and a vibrator on her pussy, she went to town.

Her gorgeous body contorted, her moans and breathing getting louder. Unknown to her, someone was stroking themselves while watching. He had always been watching her like this. He gave up on being a thief, but he had hacked the encrypted camera and had access to the feed.

He clicked record, yet another video now in his hard drive. As she furiously masturbated, so did he. Cumming together, but unknown to her.

Three months later, she walked up to her door to find a brown envelope at her step. On it was scribbled ‘For your eyes only.’

Curious, she stepped inside. No address or sender name on it. She opened the envelope and flipped the contents on her desk. Immediately, the blood drained from her cheeks. In shock she looked at the images. High resolution photos of her, touching herself. Using her vibrator. Of her body, exposed.

She felt disgusted, but not at the fact that her photos were sent to her. No, she was disgusted in herself because she felt herself getting wet.

In the same package was a USB drive and a note attached to it saying ‘Hope you don’t mind, but I’ve been watching. Left you a gift too.’

With shaky breathing she put the USB into her laptop and opened the video titled ‘Filthy little slut’. It started playing and showed her. Bare body, pillow in between her legs. Vibe on clit. Enjoying her body as she came hard. The hairs on her neck stood on end as her nipples got hard and pushed against the fabric of her top.

She then saw another few files but the one that intrigued her said ‘A gift for my good girl’. She opened it and a video played. A dark room, a screen glowing and a silhouette, clearly a man. He wasn’t the hottest he had seen, or particularly big. But, he was stroking himself with abandon, and she could hear him grunting and moaning. Moaning that was matched by her own. He was playing back her own orgasm and stroking for her.

She took her laptop to her bedroom and laid down with it in front of her. A nervous glance at the camera but she couldn’t help it. Out of instinct, with all shame abandoned by now, she let her hand slide into her underwear. She was now touching herself, to her voyeur. And she was doing it in full view of the camera she set up.

Instead of feeling safe, she felt violated. Humiliated and, strangely, more turned on then ever before. She said ‘please, please have your way with me’… to no one in particular as she orgasmed hard. Passing out with her hand in her panties and her door not securely locked.

She woke up, several hours later. Feeling far more exhausted than usual. Her laptop had been shifted off the bed and all the photos neatly stacked too. Her panties were around her ankles and her pussy felt sore.

She reached down and rubbed her slit, realising there was more than just her juices inside her. A pang of panic and ecstasy shot through her as she started to piece things together.

Grabbing her phone, she opened the camera app and saw it. He came in after she was knocked out. And he was so gentle at first. Mask on his face, he kissed her pussy and made her cum so hard in her sleep. After that, he ravaged her. Looking directly into the camera at it, knowing this filthy little slut will watch it back. He came inside her, over and over again. And then he left the bedroom, but not before waving at the camera.

Turned on like crazy, once again, she swayed from the video she had just seen. She got up, needing to drink some water. Entering the kitchen in a daze, she opened her fridge and grabbed a bottle.

As she closed it, there he was. Mask still on. Looking at her. He covered her mouth and stifled her scream. Took one deep and passionate look at her and said ‘You are mine now, good girl. All mine.’

- 😈😈😈

This is so unbelievably hot 🥵 I think I need to go buy a camera and hope someone hacks it now...

[sweetkpopmusings]

stray kids soulmate aus | l. minho <3

a/n: minho is for real the love of my life...that gent is so peculiar and he means everything to me <333 i really had to collect myself while writing this because eeeeeeeee my minho feels have been so strong :,,,-) i can't believe the skz soulmate au series is complete now ! i hope they have brought you lots of joy, and thank you for all the kind words you've shared <3333 pics not mine~

content: fluff, soulmate au | wc: 2.3k | warnings: none really! | pairing: soulmate!minho x gn!reader | requests: open

♡ chan | minho | changbin | hyunjin | jisung | felix | seungmin | jeongin ♡

until you meet your soulmate, you receive one object per year that is a clue to who they are.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

minho’s favorite day of the year was always the day he received his clue about you.

from a young age, minho fell in love with the puzzle of it all. slowly but surely, he developed a ritual for unpacking each clue. he paid attention to every detail, taking thorough notes and letting his mind run wild with theories, no matter how ridiculous they seemed. he recorded everything in a notebook, which was one of his most prized possessions. it chronicled every thought he had about his soulmate, and, whenever he felt sentimental, he’d flip through the pages, smiling fondly as he watched his love turn from something childish into something solid, like the love he felt in his heart now.

minho’s love grew steadily over time, spiking when he received certain clues that were so clearly tied to his soulmate’s personality. once, during his middle school years, the clue was a polaroid you had taken. even though he wasn’t sure what it was of–maybe your bedroom wall or somewhere you spent a lot of time at–minho knew that the image was of a place near and dear to your heart. today, minho flipped through the pages, sighing happily when his eyes rested on that very polaroid. he memorized every centimeter of the image long ago.

unboxing today’s clue felt no different from all the unboxings before. after turning the pages forward to a blank one, minho settled into his chair. butterflies filled his stomach when he held a new clue for the first time because he felt as though he were one step closer to holding his soulmate. inhaling briefly to steady his excitement, he deftly unwrapped the package, surprised to hold a planner in his hands.

“huh,” minho chuckled, “let’s see what you’re getting up to.”

he couldn’t believe his clue would be so blatant about his soulmate’s identity. it felt entirely lucky that, just beyond the cover of this planner, would be details to his soulmate’s life, to you, whoever you were. minho smiled as he flipped through the pages, running his fingertips over your handwriting. he didn’t want to intrude too much, but he reveled in learning about the life his soulmate led. this must be it, the final clue. 

minho’s suspicion–or, rather, hope–was confirmed when he returned to the front of the planner. on the corner of the front page, he read the most beautiful words he’d ever encountered: if lost, please return to y/n l/n. thank you!

beneath your name was your phone number. not wanting to break his ritual, minho scribbled his observations into his notebook. while he didn’t need to theorize your name, he entertained himself by theorizing about the grocery store you went to and what your favorite takeout restaurant smelled like. admittedly, now that he had your name, he also started a list of potential nicknames for you. once he was satisfied with his entry, he picked up his phone. finally, he had the opportunity to test his theories against someone real.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

your yearly clue arrived earlier than you expected. glancing at the clock, you decided to risk being late to work. how could you resist the opportunity to start your day with something connected to your soulmate?

rather than a full package, your clue was sent to you in a small envelope, no bigger than a postcard. inside was a piece of paper with faded designs on the border. it was hard to make out exactly what the images were, but you could tell it was stationary that was popular when you were a young child. it was also apparent that the handwriting on the page belonged to a kid, maybe an elementary school student. your heart jumped when it clicked that this was your soulmate’s writing, these words a special glimpse in their mind as a child. 

hi!

today was very sunny. the weather was cool like spring. is it also spring for you? i guess you wouldn’t live that far away from me. i think it would be fun if you were from a place all the way across the world. maybe we could meet while traveling! or while doing something boring, like going to the store, haha. if we meet at the store, i should buy you something, right? i hope we like the same things. i’ll still buy you want you want, even if it’s gross.

anyways, i am writing this letter because my teacher said we had to practice our new vocabulary words with someone close to us. i used two already. here are the rest: bleak, chilly, windy, humid, falling leaves, summertime, spring day, downpour, foggy. our vocabulary unit was on the weather. i hope you had good weather today too, not weather that was bleak. 

love your soulmate, lee minho♡  

you were so incredibly heartwarmed that you didn’t know whether to smile or cry. when you saw the time, you realized there wasn’t room for either emotional activity. you floated on the street as you made your way to work, feeling invincible from the sweetness of your soulmate’s words. your soulmate, lee minho. 

nothing could ruin your good mood today. not spilling some coffee onto your hand, not misplacing your planner, not even the stranger bumping into you as you exited the elevator. today was perfect because you learned your soulmate’s name, which meant that you could probably figure out who they were. you also learned that, when they were a child, thay considered you as someone close, even though you had never met yet.

daydreams about what your soulmate would write to you in a letter today were interrupted by your phone going off. at first, you were relieved to see the message about your planner being found. your brow furrowed, however, when the message with the time and place to meet was followed up by a message declaring that you would meet your soulmate when you picked up your planner. 

wanting to avoid a potential scam or prank, you decided to ask a question that would confirm their identity. you almost forgot that you didn’t have to dig into the recesses of your memory for specific clues. thankfully, the childhood letter was fresh in your mind, so you asked a simple who are you?

anxiety was replaced by excitement when they replied i’m your soulmate, lee minho.

just like you had this morning, you checked the clock to see how much time you had until you needed to leave for your next destination. leaving early felt silly, but, seeing as your soulmate would be there and expecting you, you didn’t feel like waiting any longer. 

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

minho sat at a table outside the convenience store with a few beverage options in front of him. he wanted to offer you something when you arrived, so he picked the items he thought suited your taste, based on his instinct and clue investigations. a smile graced his lips when the reality of your nearing presence hit him. while he waited, minho wondered what clue you received that revealed his name. as far as he could tell, he wasn’t missing any identifiable documents. maybe a nametag or souvenir of his ended up in your hands, or maybe it was just a piece of paper with his name on it. regardless, minho wasn’t one to question fate’s methods if it meant that he’d finally meet his soulmate tonight.

minho had texted you a description of what he wore–black pants paired with a white button-down and a beret–but you knew who he was before you even registered his outfit. there was something about the feeling you got when you looked at the man sitting outside the convenience store, your favorite drinks neatly placed in front of him. before you could get too stunned by his beauty, his eyes met yours. he smiled and waved for you to join him. knees weak, you happily accepted the invitation.

“hi, y/n,” minho grinned, “i believe this belongs to you.”

you giggled at the way he smirked when he handed the planner over to you and blushed at the way he said your name. his confident and relaxed energy dissipated your nerves. as cliché as it sounded, being near minho made you feel at home.

“thank you, minho. i would be lost without this thing,” you sighed and placed it in your bag, “it’s also nice to meet you.” 

“likewise,” he gestured to the drinks between you two, “i wasn’t sure which one you’d like best, so i bought a few options. it felt rude to meet at a store and not buy you something.”

you bit the inside of your cheek, thinking back to the childhood letter making the same claim, and then grabbed one of the items, “this one is actually my favorite! how did you know?”

minho was clearly proud, and his eyes gleamed with playfulness, “i used my amazing detective work.”

you laughed, “ah, so i see the clues came in handy for my drink preferences.”

“mhm,” he nodded, “that and other things.”

you raised your eyebrows, “should i be scared of what you know?”

he shrugged, “probably.”

a hand went over your mouth as you laughed, nearly spitting out your drink. minho giggled, reaching into his bag while you regained your composure.

“i have this for you,” he slid a notebook across the table to you.

“for me?”

he nodded. you carefully picked it up, surprised by its weight. when you opened the notebook and saw that it was full of different items, you understood why it was heavier than it appeared. on the first page, you recognized the same childish handwriting from today’s clue. you smiled and looked up at minho.

“what’s in here?”

“every clue i’ve gotten about you.”

his tone was nonchalant, but you were so touched by the gesture you thought you could melt right then and there. he had kept every single clue and wrote entries for each one. now, he was giving that collection to you. you knew from that letter that he was sweet. this, however, was more sentimentality than you could have ever imagined.

“wow, minho, this is…” you held his gaze, so he knew your sincerity, “thank you. i love it.”

he smiled, turning his head to the side in shyness, which made the red tips of his ears apparent, “i’m happy you like it.”

you two smiled at each other for a moment, reveling in your shared space.

“ah! that reminds me. what was your clue today? mine obviously brought us together, but i can’t imagine i’d be the only one to have such a straightforward clue today. was it how you knew my name?”

you grinned at both his playful bragging and the thought of your clue, “it was a letter you wrote me when you were a kid. you told me some of your new vocabulary words about the weather. you also signed it with ‘love your soulmate, lee minho.’ your handwriting was adorable!”

if you thought his ears were red before, now there was no doubt in your mind that he was blushing. minho even stuttered a little out of shyness when he replied.

“i see…was the letter any good?”

“yes, i think you used your vocabulary words well,” you teased, “it was very sweet. i was surprised that you said i was someone close to you, though, given that you were so young and didn’t even know me. why did you choose to write it to me instead of someone like a parent or friend?”

minho hummed, genuinely thinking back to his childhood logic, “honestly? it was never a mystery to me whether i’d love you or not.”

now you were the one blushing, smiling, and struggling to find the right words. it didn’t help that minho looked downright smug at your reaction to his comment. clearly, you were in for quite the ride with your soulmate. you figured you needed to get used to your heart fluttering if you were going to spend the rest of your life with him.

minho sighed, standing up from his seat, “well, y/n, i unfortunately have to go. get home safely, and study well! we should make plans to meet again this week, if you’re free.”

“wait, i have to study before i see you again?” you tilted your head in confusion, causing a smile to grace minho’s face.

“yes, you need to study the book i gave you. there will be a pop quiz on the information next time we meet.”

you eyes darted to the notebook in your hand and then back to your ridiculous soulmate. the proud, mischievous look on his face convinced you that he wasn’t lying about the quiz. 

“what do i get if i ace it?”

“hmm,” minho tapped his finger on the side of his head, “my eternal love and affection.”

you smiled, quickly changing your expression to a playful one, “i thought i already had that? at least, that’s what your letter implies.”

minho chuckled, ears turning red again, “huh, i guess you’re right. i’ll buy you dinner then. but only if you ace it.”

you laughed at the seriousness in his voice, “it’s a date!” 

minho grinned, “it’s a date.” 

he paused to savor the way those words sounded, to relish in the moment of promising to see each other soon. yet again, you felt yourself blushing, flustered by the sweet intensity of his love.

“see you soon, and let me know when you’re home safe, my dear, y/n.”

minho cooed your name, and you giggled. he smiled that proud smile again, fondness reflecting in his eyes. you promised to text him the second you were home and asked that he did the same, so you knew when you could call him. after several more tries, you two finally said a goodbye that sounded a lot more like i can’t wait to see you again soon because i love you!

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚