#explained why I drew this or set the scene

[sicklyjelly]

day 7: free day

strange intimacy.

[simpforboys]

surprise! (2)

drew starkey x fem!singer!reader

summary: reader and drew shoot the ‘perfume’ music video!

warnings: fluff, swearing, sexual themes but no real smut, kisses

‘perfume’ by del water gap

part one , part three, part four

It was bright and early on a Wednesday in December.

You had been up since six am to be on set, get costumes all organized, makeup done, hair done, and just make sure your vision was really coming along how you wanted it to.

After all, 'Perfume' was a big deal to you, now even more so due to the fact that your dream man was going to be your on-screen lover.

When Drew finally showed up at eight am, almost exactly on the dot, he was a little disorganized due to not getting as much sleep as he should have the night before.

You were talking to the director, clearly deep in the discussion as you explained your vision as best as your chaotic brain could.

"Drew is here," your manager came walking over.

Fuck.

You looked over, seeing Drew standing awkwardly by the trailers as he looked around at the film location.

It was pronounced you had chosen to do more of a countryside feel, the old farmhouse that had people constantly going in and out of it in order to set up for later scenes.

The location was beautiful, though. Grass, sand, hills, and for the actual land, it was quiet.

"Hey, good morning."

You walked over to Drew, trying to hide your pounding heart and the bags under your eyes (because, obviously, you hadn't been able to sleep the night before).

"Good morning." Drew looked at you, a small smile on his tired face.

"Are you hungry? We have breakfast and coffee over here," you guided Drew over to the food station, hands shaking with nervousness.

"Coffee sounds good, yeah." Drew murmurs, trying not to stare at you in your outfit.

You had chosen to wear blue overalls with a black long-sleeve shirt, and brown cowboy boots to fit into the countryside vibe you were going for.

"Sorry, I barely slept last night."

Drew shook his head, a small smile on his face.

"No, you're good. You just... look good."

Your eyes widened slightly at his compliment, your face feeling hot. God, why did he have to be fucking sweet?

"I don't normally wear this shit," you tried to deflect off of it and make a joke.

Drew smiled, shaking his head softly as he took a sip of the hot coffee.

"I'm assuming we're going to be cowboys?" He teased.

You shrug, a small smirk curling onto your lips.

"I couldn't pass up the opportunity to give everyone cowboy Drew." You joked back, instantly feeling a little embarrassed.

Being hyperaware and anxious was absolutely not helping anything about any and all interactions with him.

"Okay, so you're welcome to help yourself to anything. I have to film some solo shots, but probably in around thirty to forty-five minutes, the costume lady will come to get you."

You spoke, avoiding looking at him.

Drew hummed, watching you get all nervous and embarrassed. As much as he wanted to reassure you that you were fine, he couldn't deny how amusing it was to see you get all shy around him.

"Thank you," he murmured.

While you went off to shoot some solo stuff, Drew was in the trailer as the ladies gave him some makeup and fixed his short hair.

You wanted him to wear blue jeans, cowboy boots, and a plain white shirt that had some dirt on it to make the appearance that he had been working outside.

By the time Drew was dismissed, you were finishing up filming. Staring at the footage that was just shot, your song playing in the background as you stood around the property or lip sung.

Glancing over and seeing Drew in the damn outfit you picked made your heart physically flutter.

He looked good.

You would definitely be feeding his fans (and yourself) content.

“How do I look?” He walked over to you, a small smirk on his face.

“Good… yeah, uh, good. Exactly how I envisioned.”

Why the fuck were you so nervous? Why the fuck was he so handsome and intimidating?

He hummed, wanting to tease you a little more before the director cut in.

“Okay, so you two are going to be sitting in the truck. Drew will be driving with Y/n in the passenger seat. When I say ‘go’, I want Drew to slowly reach over and hold her hand. Look at each other with soft, warm, loving eyes.”

The director says. The two of you nod in agreement, getting into the truck.

Drew placed his hands on the wheel as you looked out the window. The filming location was genuinely so pretty, and you were very pleased with your decision.

The camera man slid into the backseat with the big camera, making sure the angles would all be right.

“Okay, three, two, one… action!”

You continue to stare out the window as Drew drives the truck along the grassy pathway, ‘Perfume’ playing in the background.

And I'm picturing you right now, I'm thinking of you right now

You tried not to have your breath hitch when you felt his large, warm hand grab yours and intertwine your fingers.

Glancing over at him, your eyes met his gorgeous blue ones, a genuine look of affection filling your gaze, mirroring his.

But his was probably fake, he’s an actor after all.

Drew gave you a soft smile, which caused a small grin to curl onto your lips.

“And cut!”

‘Perfume’ cut off, but you were hyperaware of the way Drew didn’t immediately pull his hand from your’s.

In fact, you were the first to pull away, nearly shitting your pants at the way your hand tingled.

Drew cut the engine of the car, the director coming to the passenger side window as he leaned against it.

“That was really good, you could feel the tension in the gaze. For the next shot, we want Drew to get out of the car with Y/n to follow. Outside the car, start walking up towards the house, when Drew is going to place his hand on your waist and pull you towards him. Share a passionate kiss, and press her against the door.” The director said.

Oh. Oh. Oh.

“Sounds good,” Drew hums, glancing briefly at you.

You swallowed, trying to ignore the way your face felt warm as you nodded in agreement.

‘Perfume’ started playing in the background again, the next scene about to start.

“Okay… three, two, one… action!”

'Cause I wanna do all of the things, baby, I said I wanna do with you… 'Less this is a lie and I don't know myself like I thought…

Wait, this is a mess, I could be wrong, I could be so damn mistaken

Both you and Drew got out of the car, a sheepish smile on both of your faces as you start walking towards the house.

Your heart stammered in your chest when you both stepped onto the porch and his large hand snaked around your waist, tugging you firmly into him.

He dipped his head down, capturing your lips.

You were kissing Drew fucking Starkey.

Immediately, you both melted into the kiss. Your hands were on his jaw and the back of his neck, his other hand going to rest on your lower back, just on top of your ass.

Drew almost forgot where he was for a minute as he slipped his tongue into your warm mouth.

He pressed your back against the front door of the house, you pulling him down so his body is flush against yours.

Fuck.

You were both thinking it.

“And, cut!” The director called.

You were both so raptured into the kiss neither of you heard it immediately.

“Cut!” The director called again, trying to hide his snicker.

Drew slowly pulled his lips away from you, his hands sliding off your body, making you feel cold.

“Sorry,” he murmured. His blue eyes bore into yours.

“You two take five, we needa get the bedroom all ready for the next shot,” the director said.

You moved away from the door to sit on the front patio furniture of the house. Your lips were tingling, mind racing at the thought that you just made out with your celebrity crush.

Drew looked sheepish and a little embarrassed that he let himself get so into a kiss. It was definitely a first for him.

“You want a water or anything?” Drew asked you.

“Uh, yeah, sure. Thank you,” you swallowed. You were still feeling a little breathless from what just happened.

By the time Drew came back with your water, the director had also returned.

Both you and Drew followed the man into the back bedroom of the old farmhouse. It was bare, with the basic furniture of a wardrobe, bed, and nightstands.

You wanted it to be basic, you wanted it to add the detail into the story you were trying to convey.

"So, we're going to set the camera up right at this angle. Drew push Y/n back onto the bed and climb on top of her, still kissing. Only break the kiss so you can both pull your shirts off. Then we're going to cut it into a birds-eye view. Sound good for now?" The director hums.

Oh. Drew was going to see you in your bra.

You might have forgotten about that when you came up with ideas for the music video.

Drew nods, his eyes flickering over to yours, meeting your gaze before you both quickly look away. Why was he so nervous?

He had seen boobs, he had seen women in bras. Maybe it was the fact that he was going to see yours was driving him a little crazy, making him forget all about his professional side for a moment.

You unbuttoned your overalls at the top so it would be easier to pull your shirt off for the scene.

"Three, two, one... action!"

But I'm picturing you right now, I'm thinking of you right now, I'm picturing you right now

With nothing on, with nothing on but my perfume

The familiar beat of your song and lyrics came on, but you paid absolutely no attention to it when Drew kissed you again.

He flopped you back onto the bed, your body bouncing slightly. But neither of you dared to disconnect your lips, his tongue slipping in your mouth yet again.

A very small, faint whine left your throat when he pulled away to tug his shirt off. No fucking way you just did that.

Unbeknownst to you, the small whine made Drew's entire body go rigid. His mind was starting to drift into what you would sound like actually in bed.

You arched your back up, trying to remember that there was a giant camera on you both. You pulled your black long-sleeve up and over your head, eyes staring up at Drew.

The way his pupils dilated more, that gorgeous blue swirling into a deep sea color. Fuck. You were both ruined.

He immediately connected your lips back to his, both your minds a state of pure need. But before anything else could happen--

"Cut!"

The word "cut" was starting to become your least favorite thing in the entire world. Drew pulled back, still hovering over you.

You finally let your eyes drift down to his bare torso, seeing those abs for the first time in person. But he wasn't the only one.

He tried so hard not to look, to be a gentleman, to be professional. But he felt his gaze slip down to you lying there in your bra, his mouth growing a little wetter.

"Y/n, spread your legs and let Drew lay in between them. When we say action, Drew start thrusting your hips as if you two are having sex. We'll keep the birds-eye view so it gives off the appearance that you two actually are."

As the director gives his next instructions, a set designer fixes the sheet to rest around Drew's hips, covering up the fact that you are both still wearing pants.

All you and Drew could do was nod. It wasn't really safe to speak, not when the sexual tension and chemistry between you two was so high.

Drew had filmed sex scenes before, it was a part of his job. But fuck. You were driving him insane, and you were barely even speaking.

You spread your legs as Drew shifted closer to you, trying to look anywhere but at your chest and face.

"Three, two, one... action!"

Call me in the morning, beg me in the night, I'll be over safely if you need it anytime

I'm picturing you right now, with nothing on, with nothing on but my perfume

He had begun to softly move his hips, his mouth instinctively attaching to your jaw, kissing down to your neck. Your hands dug into his broad shoulders and back, trying desperately not to let out a real moan.

Your eyes were fluttered shut, legs tightening a little more around him. There was no real pleasure being shared, but both your bodies were on autopilot, as if you were actually having sex.

It was the hottest either of you had ever felt.

The day continued on, with both you and Drew filming more romantic scenes. It was very surreal that this was all pretend because, at some points, it felt real.

The last scene was finally shot and everyone cheered with applause, happy the hard work and long day is over.

You were changing out of your film clothes and back into the sweatpants and hoodie you wore to set at six am this morning.

Drew had also changed, putting on his jeans and jacket.

You were going around and sincerely thanking every single person for their contribution and hard work, the last person finally being Drew.

Your eyes locked onto each other, a small smile creeping onto both your faces.

"Thank you so much, Drew, seriously. I couldn't have done this without you," you told him.

Drew shrugged nonchalantly, but he seemed a little sheepish at your genuine words.

"No, thank you. I had a lot of fun today, you were a lot of fun to film with." Drew replies, a warm look in his gaze.

He pulled you into another hug, your face pressed into him, arms wrapped tightly around each other.

"I hope this isn't the last time you see me," Drew murmurs in your ear.

Goosebumps erupted all over your skin, the moment reeling in your mind as you thought about when he hugged you and murmured how much he loved your song on Jimmy Fallon.

"It won't be, I promise."

You finally pulled away, a little reluctantly. You didn't wanna scare him off by holding him for too long.

"I'll eventually send you photo stills and snippets to post for promotion, but I don't want you to feel like you have to post anything or a shit-ton of stuff. I know you're busy," you tell him.

Drew shook his head. "Nah, I'll post them. Promise."

You nodded softly, a little grin on your face.

"Alright, Y/n. I'll see you around," Drew hums.

You watched as he walked away, a warm feeling in your chest.

You had finally returned home after the long day. After showering, changing into pajamas, and feeding yourself, you slide into your warm bed.

Grabbing your phone from the nightstand, your heart jumped when you read one Instagram notification in particular.

@/drewstarkey has messaged you

You quickly opened the notification, a smile on your face.

Drew Starkey: Just wanted to thank you again for the opportunity today. Had more fun than I should have

Your User: Ofc!! Maybe when the music video drops we can celebrate together :3

Fuck. Your thumb pressed send before you could double-think that message.

Drew Starkey: I like the sound of that

Oh.

tags!!

@slut4you @sweetlike-sugarplum @snowtargaryen @fastlovela @christinechickiee @ahgrace6 @evermorx89 @loren8818181 @eddiemuns0nl0ver @sophiesmovingcastle5 @chimchimjiminie16 @amel1ee @reader1402 @tqd4455 @rxeae @caraxes-syrax @shrimpybbq @drewstarkeysbabe @rafeswhoooreee @meropeeonmee @rafeluvrr @marvelahsobx @raeven-marie43 @fallout-girl219 @brendazzlingg @10ava01 @secretsideofbree @drewstarrrkey @p0gue420 @gibson-g1rl @kiiyomei @spiderstyles04 @sexualparkour @vinaluvsu @domainexpandme @mariadu2 @toterry @taliawz @always-reading @angvl3tears @iloveoldermenn @aesthetic-lyss @lover-girl-estxx @cadhlabear

[despressoslatte]

not the zoey you wanted (four)

pairing: zach maclaren x female reader!

summary: you waited all weekend for your boyfriend, Zach, to call or text, anything, to explain why he had just went and ghosted you when you were supposed to go with him on a family ski trip to meet his parents, his sister Avery, and his cousin, Miles.

content warnings: angst; victims of catfishing; miscommunication trope

a/n: a big big BIG thank you to everyone who has been enjoying this fic! I love seeing everyone’s comments and inbox messages dissecting the story and making predictions! I wrote for OBX back in 2020 when the show first came out under a different blog (in case anyone here remembers a blog called jjmaybankx, HI! Though that’s just a generic username, it might be hard to remember that specific iteration ahaha), but i had just created this blog the same day i put out this fic… and i am in awe of how well received and how much you guys are actually invested in this little world i have conjured up whilst dreaming of bf!drew. I am very honored <3

Masterlist | < part three | add yourself to the taglist

ᯓ⟢

How you were supposed to just get up and go to your afternoon classes after what had just happened was beyond you, but you had an important peer workshop in one of your writing courses and then straight to the tutoring center for you. 

Day one was hard, as you navigated the complexities of whatever the hell had just happened. You were angry: angry at the car for hitting Zach, angry that he had even for a second thought that Zoey Miller had been you, angry that she let him think that knowing it was wrong, angry that she did any of what she did at all. And most of all, angry that you were even angry with Zach for it.

Tuesday rolled around and you had to go to the class you had with Zoey Miller, with anger seething in your veins but the inability to cause a scene. You hadn’t told anyone, not even your roommate Bree, what had happened. You felt like if you made a big deal and spoke about it, then you would likely never get over it. 

You felt her eyes on you as you typed your notes during the lecture, having sat a few rows and seats to the left in front of you. Could she like… not? Face forward and pay attention to the class, stop staring at the girl whose boyfriend you tried to steal after trying to steal his cousin, thanks. 

Your next shift at the tutoring center was on Wednesday. Instead of having assigned tutees for the day, you had a five hour shift in the tutoring center where you mainly did your own homework, helped student athletes figure out why the printers wanted to act up and not print their assignments, and help the few random people who would come up to the reception desk to ask you for help on a writing assignment or to proofread their essays.

You paused as you set your coffee up and laptop down on the desk, looking across the tutoring center to see Zach hunched over his own computer in one of the middle tables, typing away. He was one of the few athletes who wasn’t assigned to mandatory study hall hours after he had gotten his grade up, thanks to your one-on-one tutoring sessions and then, once his girlfriend, study dates together in his dorm or yours. He normally wouldn’t be caught dead in the tutoring center if he wasn’t required to be there, preferring to do his homework on his own anyways.

But there he was, regardless. 

A week passed and Zach didn’t try to talk to you at all, just like you had asked. You also never saw him walking around with Zoey Miller, a recurring minor nightmare you kept on having. Thank God, you thought every time you’d see one of them around campus without the other. Zoey Miller came to class looking miserable every time, and each time you worked a shift at the tutoring center, whether it be study hall monitoring or a few hours of one-on-one tutoring, Zach was there, during his homework by himself at one of the tables. 

“Hey.”

You looked up from the book you were engrossed in, taking off one airpods to see Zach in front of you, his laptop in his arms.

“Zach…” you sighed softly.

“I’m not here to bother you, I swear,” he reassured you, sliding his laptop to face you. “I just… actually need your help with this one, promise.”

You looked down at his screen to see an essay typed out. You glance up at him again.

“It’s a big part of my grade, so I was wondering if you could proofread it,” he said sheepishly, putting his hands in his pockets.

You exhale and nod, motioning with your head to the seat next to yours. A smile beamed across his face, and he rounded the desk to sit down next to you, both of you half facing each other as he watched you go over his essay in suggesting mode, making comments and edit recommendations. 

“I like the color you painted your nails,” he said softly.

“Zach,” you warned.

He shut up.

You got to page five of the essay, having only had to make a few small grammatical suggestions, a small smile building on your face for how well written the essay had been. When he wanted to apply himself, and knew how to, Zach would always be extremely smart. Sometimes, when it came to subjects he didn’t quite care for, he just didn’t care to put in the effort. But he was very smart, he had to be a student athlete. 

Plus, you knew he had little moments of crises when he thought about his future. He didn’t think he’d make it pro, but he also wasn’t passionate for other things the way he was for soccer. He felt aimless sometimes. The ironic part of it all was that he chose English Literature as his major, the classes he struggled with the most and hence how you two met.

You had given him the idea before that if he really didn’t think he could go pro, he could keep playing soccer or being involved with it through coaching at high schools or even middle schools. But you also always told him that you thought he had it in him to go pro. He was the school’s soccer star, you weren’t sure why he always sold himself short.

“You okay?” his voice pulled you out of your thoughts.

You had been stuck on page five for longer than it would have taken to read the page over twice, Zach just sitting there in anticipation of what you thought he needed to fix before he looked over at your face and noticed you were zoned out.

“Yeah, yeah,” you shook yourself out of it, continuing to scroll down through his essay.

Another excruciating fifteen minutes until you were finished reading over every line intricately and leaving any commentary needed, you slid the laptop back closer to Zach.

“Just those edits, and it’s all good,” you told him, trying to avoid looking at him.

He tapped the desk, nodding. “Thanks,” he said, and you pursed your lips and nodded.

You bit your lip to try and prevent yourself from asking the question that has been hot on your mind, but the words vomit out before you can stop it, “How come you’ve been doing your homework here?”

You finally look into his striking blue eyes, seeing them widen before his cheeks turned a light shade of pink.

“It’s the student athlete tutoring center,” he pointed out, then pointed at himself. “Student athlete.”

You titled your head to the side, giving him “the look” as you said, “Zach…”

“Fine, fine,” he sighed with a small laugh, closing his laptop closed. “It’s the only time I ever get to see you, okay?”

You had an inkling feeling that was it, and you just nod in response.

“I can stop if seeing me bothers you,” he whispered.

“Seeing you would never bother me,” you said back.

The hopeful smile that erupted on his face made your heart sting.

The moment you two were having was interrupted when another student athlete walked up, asking for help since the printers weren’t working. You offered Zach a small smile, and he gave you a wave, before you got up to go to the opposite side of the tutoring center to figure out the printer.

ᯓ⟢

On your way to class the next day, you paused in front of the class you had with Zoey to see she was standing a little bit to the side of the pathway talking to Zach. You slowed your steps down a bit as you stared at them. You couldn’t see his face, but you could tell from the back of his head, jacket, and backpack that it was him.

That same guilty look was on Zoey’s face, and she was shaking her head. 

You could tell from Zach’s body language that he was upset, the way his shoulders lifted and his arms moved about as he talked, the way he did when he was trying to drive a point. 

You didn’t feel like watching them talk, putting your head down and heading into the building to go to class.

ᯓ⟢

“So, she broke up with you?” Zoey asked as she stood there staring up at Zach. She had asked him if they could talk when she saw him walking by on her way to class, and with an irritated huff, he agreed.

“She did not break up with me,” Zach said back sternly, shoving his hands into his pocket, kicking a rock on the floor. “She is just taking time to… process… what happened between you and I on the ski trip…”

“I didn’t mean for any of that stuff to happen… I—”

“I don’t really care what you meant to have happened,” Zach said back with a shrug. “You knew you weren’t my girlfriend, pretended to be anyways, and now she won’t talk to me.”

“Well, I don’t get why she’s upset with you when I’m to blame,” Zoey quipped back, earning a look from Zach.

“Don’t,” he shook his head at her. “Don’t try to make her out to be the bad guy here.”

“I’m not,” Zoey shook her head. “I’m just saying—”

“I don’t care what you’re saying, Zoey…” he sighed. He wiped his face with the palm of his hands and huffed frustratedly. “Look. It’s just a lot for her. First, she thought I ghosted her all weekend. Then, it looks to her like I had cheated on her, and then when she found out the truth, she hears that I was starting to feel things for you, and—”

“You were starting to feel things for me?”

He gave her an irritated glare when that was all she had heard from that.

“I love Y/N, okay?” he said to her sternly, using his hands to point to himself and then off to the side for emphasis. “Not you, not anyone else, just Y/N. Whatever fake relationship you and I had when I didn’t have my memories, that’s all it was, fake. You are not the Zoey I wanted.”

Zach looked away from her, and that was when he saw the back of your head, face pointed to the floor, as you sped-walked away into the building. He couldn’t tell if you had seen him and Zoey talking, but from the way you were walking so damn fast, maybe. Damn it. 

He turned back to Zoey, who had tears in her eyes. And he felt bad, because he didn’t enjoy making girls cry.

“Just…” for the umpteenth time, he sighed. “Just stay away from me and my girlfriend, I’m begging you.”

ᯓ⟢

part five>

taglist: @faephoria @maybankslover @ursogorgeous13 @khiatonsx @enchantedstarfish @starsmoonn @zulema222 @10ava01 @ietss @rafegf-real @leather-n-velvet t @avengersgirllorianna @chalahyung01 @thaissette @emberaurora @isabellaxlilah @matchieee @purplerose291 @wtfdudesblog @mattyskies @onlyrealjoy @sabrina6272827 @probablyreadingsmutlol @loupiotesworld @tqd4455 @persefone200 @dreamygirli3 @tobucina @h1ghw4y-blog @k-k0129 @harrys-housewife @pillowprincess4him

hoping all of these tags worked, some of them weren't popping up when i typed them! i've retyped them all by hand like 3 times, but each time i save it, it comes up as half of the list not actually tagged, so pls let me know if it tagged you!

[thef1diary]

Little Big Fan | Fifteen

— Little Big Aftermath [aka the end]

Series Masterlist

wc: 3k

we’ve made it to the end guys! I just have to say I never thought I’d complete this story and that too fifteen parts of it but to all those who read it and motivated me to keep writing, thank you. While it is the end of the official story, I will continue to take requests for blurbs on specific scenes you’d like to see. However, there won’t be a set posting date on these blurbs, it’ll be out whenever it’s requested and completed. Once again, thank you so much for those who were here since the first chapter, and here’s to more fic series in the future. P.S lemme know if you want to be tagged in the blurbs.

Your frown grew deeper as you turned in the direction your daughter had pointed, unfortunately spotting Tyler. Luckily, he wasn't looking at you two since he was focusing on the podium celebrations about to happen.

"I didn't know daddy was here, mama." Picking Isabella up, you shook your head, "I didn't know either, angel, but let's focus on Max for now okay?"

She gave a nod of agreement and applauded for the drivers, Oscar and Lando in particular, who finished second and third in the race. She did, however, cheer the loudest when Max, as he has done after almost every race this season, stepped onto the top step of the podium.

He was having trouble finding you and Isabella right away in the crowd, and you could see the slightest frown forming on his face until a smile emerged when he succeeded, connecting his gaze with yours.

Isabella giggled as Max held his hand up to wave at her before blowing a kiss in the air in your direction. His behaviour drew Lando and Oscar's attention to you as well, with the former driver rolling his eyes at Max jokingly and Oscar smiling at the interaction.

However, you didn't realize that someone else was also looking at you because your gaze didn't waver away from Max.

The champagne bottles were popped, and this time Isabella was awake to see it all, watching with fascination as it was the first time she was able to see it in person. "I wanna do that, mama," she pointed at the drivers spraying the alcoholic drink, soaking each other's race suits while laughing. "Maybe when you're older, Bella."

"When I'm 7?" She asked, and you chuckled, "a little more than that, sweetheart."

Once the celebrations were over, a huge part of the crowd dispersed, the teams resuming to their usual scheduled routines, preparing for post-race debriefs and other meetings. "Where's Maxy going?" Isabella asked, watching as he was led away by someone clad in a RedBull uniform.

"He's a little busy with interviews, but he told me that he'd come back as soon as he's done," you explained, knowing that Max had a post-race conference and a few other duties lined up.

Isabella huffed, "but he won the race." She rested her head on your shoulder for a moment while playing with a strand of your hair—the habit formed back when she was a few months old.

"Yeah he did, which means he's very famous right now and so many people want to talk to him," you explained and while she nodded in understanding, she still pouted, "I wanna talk to him too."

"Why don't we wait for him inside his driver's room?" You asked, turning around when she nodded.

You had almost reached Max's driver room—a place he had suggested for you and Isabella to stay to wait for him, but pausing in a secluded area as a familiar voice called out, "Isabella!" then heard your name as well. Isabella squirmed in your lap, wanting to get down after seeing Tyler walk up to you both. You sighed, knowing that you'd have to stop and chat.

"Tyler," you greeted, and awkwardness hung in the air for two seconds before Isabella decided to speak up. "Daddy, you said you were busy, what are you doing here?"

Despite her hesitance to stay at her father's place, which she still hasn't done since the day she was discharged from the hospital, she frequently spoke to him over the phone.

Unfortunately for him, Isabella rarely forgets promises. While he was busy playing the "good father" role after your ultimatum, he had make false promises, agreeing to everything she asked for without hearing her out properly. In that conversation, she asked about the promise he made of taking her to a race before she had met Max.

While you and Max had taken her once, she still wanted to experience the thrill with her father since he was the one who introduced the sport to her.

He glanced at you, silently asking if he did in fact claim that he was busy, and frowned when you nodded. "Oh Bella, sweetheart, I didn't know that I would have the time to be here, it was an unexpected decision or else I would've brought you along, but you're here anyways!" He tried to uplift her mood, but instead of hanging on to every word he spoke like she used to do, she just shrugged.

Deciding to divert the topic of conversation, Tyler asked, "did you enjoy the race?" He stepped forward, kneeling down to be closer to her but on instinct, Isabella moved away, clutching on to your hand tightly.

He frowned, once again glancing up at you after noticing her behaviour, but you didn't let an ounce of emotion show on your face. "I'm so happy Maxy won!" She exclaimed, her mood improving for a moment as she thought about him.

Standing up to his full height, Tyler looked at you, "why don't we sit and chat for a moment?" Pressing your lips together in a tight smile, you replied, "I don't think that's a good idea."

He scoffed, then shrugged, "fine, have it your way like always." You were not in the mood to indulge his stupid comments which would eventually lead to an argument, in fact you were here to enjoy the weekend with your boyfriend who you dearly missed in this moment.

His eyes widened briefly when you didn't respond to his comment, wondering how you changed so much in a matter of a few weeks that you couldn't care less about him anymore.

"Hey Bella, why don't you show daddy the caps that you got?" You prompted another topic, that Isabella quickly agreed to. Tyler's gaze remained on you for a moment, understanding that you truly had no intention on speaking to him longer than necessary. The conversations you did have were only necessary due to your daughter, but even those texts and calls started becoming less and less frequent.

Isabella took off her Red Bull cap, which had autographs from Max and Checo, to expose a Ferrari cap with two more signatures from Charles and Carlos, and then a McLaren cap that undoubtedly featured two signatures from Oscar and Lando. She caught up to Lando and Charles, who had given her their hats earlier, as well as their teammates, to obtain signatures. She then wanted to get autographs on her RedBull cap as well. When she asked Max and Checo, they chuckled with the latter claiming she had them all at her beck and call, but they nevertheless signed the cap.

Isabella ended up stacking all three caps on her head because she couldn't choose which one best matched with her outfit. She began explaining the story behind the signatures, and Tyler intently listened, asking a few questions in between as well.

"And then-" Isabella's gaze wandered off, eyes lighting up in excitement as she spotted, "-Maxy!"

Without any hesitation she ran up to him, colliding with him as she tried to wrap her arms around him, earning a low, "oof" from him.

Picking her up and settling her on his hip, holding her up with one arm, he held up his other hand that had a medal hanging from it. Max placed the medal around Isabella's neck, which he received on the podium earlier along with his trophy. "We won, princess," he commented, smiling as wide as she did.

She held both of her hands up, imitating the action Max did as he held his trophy on the podium, causing him to laugh. You watched the interaction with a smile on your face, and could hear their laughter from a few feet away.

Walking towards you as Max was initially planned on doing, he noticed a man next to you, which based on your descriptions was Tyler. He decided to overlook him for now, instead greeting you with a kiss to your cheek.

Tyler held his hand out, "great race, congratulations on the championship. I'm a huge fan by the way." Max, nodded politely, still holding Isabella in his arms but shaking his hand nonetheless. "Thank you," he prompted, waiting for the man to introduce himself to confirm his suspicions.

"Oh, so you're Tyler." Max glanced at you for a moment, watching as you tried to hide your smile behind your hands because of his antics. "Why do you say it like it's a bad thing?" He questioned, and Max was quick to retort, "well, it's not really the best thing now is it?"

"I don't understand," he trailed off, and your boyfriend shrugged, "I figured you wouldn't understand, it's okay," he patted Tyler's shoulder in faux consolation. You had to take a step back so Tyler wouldn't see your expression, placing a hand over your mouth to muffle your laugh.

Tyler was quick to catch on to the condescending tone Max spoke with, looking at you—after you composed yourself fortunately. "So what, you get invited to one race and you guys are best friends now?" He asked, a hint of jealousy you were familiar with revealed in his tone.

"More like she's my girlfriend and they're here to support me," Max clarified. Tyler looked at Max, then Isabella, finally understanding why she was always so enamoured by him.

He scoffed, "oh great, enjoy my sloppy seconds then mate, I will warn you though, it's not worth it because a few months later she'll show you a positive pregnancy test and force you to be a father."

Your jaw dropped, instantly responding, "in front of my daughter?" You glanced at Isabella who was in fact hearing all the words spoken, only frowning due to yours and Max's expressions as she didn't understand the full context of the words her father had said, just knowing that it wasn't good.

Max wiped his hand over his mouth, jaw clenching while his warm gaze turned cold within seconds. "Apologize, now," he instructed, trying to hold himself back from causing a fight.

"Now why would I do that? It's true." Max placed Isabella back on her feet who quickly shuffled over to you, standing behind your legs. "How dare you stand here claiming to be my fan yet talk shit about the person I love?" The driver placed his hand on Tyler's shoulder again, but this time you could see the fear bubbling up in his eyes as his grip tightened.

Still, Tyler managed to scoff, "love? Bold claims there. Sorry to break it to you but she's probably just with you for your mon-" he couldn't finish his sentence because he was punched square in the jaw by your boyfriend.

"Max!" You shrieked, and watching the interaction, Isabella held on to your hands tightly with tears welling up in her eyes. You picked her up again, noticing that Tyler was fuming in anger. "Gonna fucking sue you for that," he spit out some blood, but Max only shrugged, "try me."

Fortunately, you guys were stood in between the team motorhomes, which meant you were slightly hidden away from public eye due to the buildings covering the scene.

Readying himself for another punch if needed, you shook your head, "it's not worth it, Max."

"Yeah Max, listen to your girlfriend," he taunted, angering you in the process. "Will you ever shut up?" You shot back. Max glanced at Isabella who had hid her face in the crook of your neck, arms wrapped around you. Although he couldn't see her face, he guessed that her eyes were tightly shut.

Nodding as a silent agreement with Max, you decided to walk away from the scene as you didn't want to expose Isabella to any more of this argument than what she has already heard. Glancing at Max once more, you hoped that your expression was indicating something along the lines of, "don't do anything too bad."

However, you could hear Max's words as he began speaking to Tyler, "listen here you little shit..." but you didn't stick around to hear the entire conversation, smiling to yourself knowing that Tyler would finally be put into his place—that too by his favourite driver.

Finally entering his driver's room, you sat down on the couch sighing in relief. Isabella was still in your lap and you ran your hand up and down her back in a soothing motion because you could feel her sniffling against you. "Bella," you murmured, wanting to see her adorable face.

"I'm so sorry you had to see that, sweetheart." You kissed her head before brushing your hand through her hair. You heard her mumble but didn't catch her words, "what was that?"

She lifted her head to look at you, and you frowned seeing the tears staining her cheeks. "Why is daddy so mean? I don't like him."

"Some people are just mean for no reason, and unfortunately, your daddy is one of them," you explained, no longer covering for him knowing that after what Isabella witnessed, she wouldn't want to be near him no matter what you said.

She frowned but didn't respond, leaning her head against your shoulder again. You didn't disturb her peace, knowing that after the eventful day, she needed some quiet time.

Max entered the room a few minutes later, and he smiled to greet you but it fell flat. He pointed at Isabella, then put his thumbs up to silently ask if she was okay, but you shrugged.

"What did you say to him?" You asked, knowing that whatever conversation followed probably wasn't kind. "I told him that I'd ban him from future races if I saw him anywhere near you or Bella, and he left."

You knew that it probably wasn't that easily done, but you didn't ask for more details.

You had thought Isabella fell asleep since she hadn't moved in a while, nor could you see her face, but she lifted her head up to look at Max once she heard some shuffling about in the room.

He paused as soon as his gaze connected with hers, unsure of how to initiate a conversation because he did literally punch her father. Isabella wiggled off your lap, and both you and Max thought that she would walk away further into the room so her next action surprised you both. Running towards Max, she held her arms out, engulfing him in a hug.

"You're better than my dad, Maxy," she muttered, and he audibly sighed, the stress wrinkles on his face disappearing while wrapping his own arms around her smaller frame.

"Thank you, princess," he whispered back, and she pulled back to kiss his cheek. Isabella looked back at you, smiling when she saw you smile as well. "Thank you for taking care of my mama," your daughter told Max, and his heart warmed at her words. "Always."

The ring of your phone interrupted the beautiful sight in front of you, but your eyes widened when you saw that it was your mother calling. As soon as you pick it up, you're greeted by hearing your full name.

"Hi, mum," you stood up and walked further away just in case you were about to get a scolding although you had no idea what you could've possibly done. "Why didn't you tell me?" She asked.

"Tell you what?" You answered with a question of your own, knowing that she could be referring to anything at the moment. "That you have a boyfriend."

Your mouth dropped open, "how do you know that?" She chuckled, "because a friend of mine called me and told me that she just watched you kiss someone on live television, some racer guy."

Covering your mouth with your hand, you thought back to the moment Max kissed you in front of the huge crowd after getting out of his car, and of course there had to be cameras capturing the moment. "Max, he's a Formula 1 driver," you explained.

"Wait, the same Max that Bella talks about?" You hummed, "the same one."

"I'm glad you finally moved on from your daughter's father, but I'm also sad that you didn't tell me sooner and I looked foolish because I didn't know until my friend told me about it."

"I'm sorry, I didn't think my relationship would be broadcasted live. Plus, I think the chapter with Tyler is finally over, for both me and Isabella."

"That's good to hear, she doesn't deserve a father like him. Is Max good to you?"

"He's the best to both of us, she lights up with joy every time she sees him." Your mother hummed as she heard your response, "then me and your father have to meet him one day."

You heard some laughter in the next room where Max and Isabella were, and you smiled at your mother's words, "I hope we can come by soon, I'd love to introduce him to you and dad."

After saying goodbyes and promises to meet soon, you returned to the room Max and Isabella were in, pausing in the doorway at the sight in front of you. Just like how Isabella was sitting in your lap earlier with her head against your shoulder, she did the same to Max.

You were about to make your presence known when you heard your daughter's question. "Maxy, why do you call me princess?"

Max's gaze found yours, always finding you whether you were standing in the corner of the room or in a crowd. "Because your mama is the queen," he responded casually, as if he was stating a fact.

Isabella lifted her head, "does that make you the king?" He shrugged, "I guess it does."

She giggled, "and does that mean we get a happily ever after like the storybooks?" Max reached his hand out towards you, asking you to join them which you obliged to easily.

"Ours is better than the storybooks," he stated, placing a kiss on Isabella's forehead before pecking your lips briefly.

The End.

Taglist: @xjval @mrsmaybank13 @cherry-piee @urfavnoirette @solphin @burningcupcakefire @nessacarty1 @dreamsarebig @omgsuperstarg @wonnou @fanficweasley @redbullgirly @llando4norris @randomgirlnumber13 @dark-night-sky-99 @chanshintien @leilanixx @gisellesprettylies @peachiicherries @monsieurbacteria6 @67-angelofthelordme-67 @arian-directioner @distancedss @morenofilm @sachaa-ff @lighttsoutlewis @teamnovalak @casperlikej @sadg3 @d3kstar @lewisvinga @lpab @queenofmanydreams @honethatty12 @drunk-teens-doing-drugs @its-avalon-08 @yourbane @oconswrld @noneofyourfbusinessworld @ssrcsm @softtina @hockeyboysarehot @formulaal @namgification @tallrock35 @bloodyymaryyy @formulanni @ellouisa17 @phantomxoxo @samantha-chicago

[dearieshima]

winner

feat. what happens if no nut november comes around, and you're almost there at the finish line, and the girl you pined over since highschool, finally wants to fuck you?

God had granted him the ultimate temptation– the chance to fuck one of his perfect angels, and it felt like divine retribution for not seizing such a heavenly opportunity.

c.w. cowgirl, breast worship, unprotected sex, loser boy gojo, afab!reader

Gojo Satoru is the kind of guy people talk about. A natural winner in every way that matters.

He walks around campus like he owns the place, because he might as well have, since his net worth was three million by the time of his conception.

He’s the one everyone wants to be or be with—athletic, good-looking, blessed with charisma, and even intelligent. People gravitate toward him as if he’s the sun, and it seems like everything in his life just falls into place.

So it was only natural he would accumulate jealousy brewing among some students. They love to admire him, sure, but secretly, they waited for a crack to appear in his perfect image, eager for it to crumble.

So when November rolled around, Geto and a group of underclassmen saw an opportunity. They set up a bet, daring him to a challenge: for the entire month, Gojo was forbidden from his usual playful flirting and pursuits. A month of self-restraint for a guy who usually had the university’s most admired women hanging on his every word.

He shrugged it off. The only woman he truly wanted was you, from the start, anyway. The only true threat to his virtue was his hand itching to jerk him off to the thought of you. Other than that, he was fine.

…

Well, something happened.

Gojo couldn't remember what triggered it, why your lips were suddenly pressed against his. Perhaps it was the cheesy sex scene playing out on the screen, or the dumb joke he made about the actor's dick - it must have been a particularly good, dumb dick joke to elicit such a response from you.

The specifics leading up to this moment didn't matter. This was what he had fantasized about endlessly since high school, and now here you were, in his arms, your body flush against his.

But as your hand slid down his thigh, brushing against the throbbing bulge straining against his pants, a sudden realization hit him like a bucket of ice water. He had been strong for 24 days, resisting temptation and keeping his resolve. But now, with you so close, so eager, his resolve stood a chance of a house of cards against wind.

"Fuck," he groaned, pulling back slightly, his breath coming in ragged gasps. "Wait… goddamn it."

You blinked at him, confusion flashing across your face, then understanding cleared it all away. "... Did you…?"

“No, no– thank fuck no,” he rasped, wiping a shaky hand over his face.

Your brows furrowed.

He had come so far, resisting temptation for nearly a month. And now, with you in his arms, the only person he had pined for those years back, all he wanted to come so far in, was you.

"I can't,” he said, his voice low and strained, almost as if the words were painful to speak. “It's November.”

“November...?” you echoed, your voice trailing off, searching your mind for any important dates in November that might explain his reaction.

Gojo nodded, his hands resting on your hips, his eyes searching your face for understanding. "Yeah, November. It's… um. Remember that bet I made with Geto and some other guys?”

You shook your head. Gojo let out a sigh, realizing that he would have to explain the whole situation to you. He ran a hand through his white hair, messing it up further.

"Alright, listen. You know how I like to make bets? I had this bet with Geto and some underclassmen… and it's about No Nut November, and–”

You let out a deep groan, dragging your hand down your face in exasperation. Your fingers tugged at your eyelids as you drew out a long, "Nooo, ‘Toru... That's so stupid. You guys are so stupid. Do you guys seriously believe in that?”

Gojo gave a sheepish grin, his cheeks reddening just slightly at your reaction, which was, as expected, not the most enthusiastic.

"I know, I know, it's a dumb bet, but these guys were so convinced that I couldn't make it a month without… you know." He paused, looking away for a moment, his voice dropping slightly.

"And the bet was for a lot of money, y'know.”

You sighed, “'Toru, your family’s loaded. What could money possibly mean to you?”

Gojo flinched, reluctant to admit you had a point. It was true, his family’s wealth granted him a life of ease and luxury that most people could only imagine.

"It's not about the money," he insisted, his grip on your hips tightening slightly. "It's about the… the principle."

"The principal," you said flatly.

Gojo sighed, his shoulders sagging slightly. He knew your disbelief was warranted, but he was in too deep now to back out.

You nodded, pretending to get it, and rolled away from him.

“I don’t know. Six more days, and then…” His voice faded as he watched you settle on the other side of the couch. His body quivered without the heat of yours.

He sighed, propping himself on an elbow, eyes fixed on you as you refocused on the movie.

“Six days isn’t that long, right?”

“Sure, ‘Toru.”

The room was filled with a charged silence, broken only by the breathy moans emanating from the erotic scene playing out on the television screen, taunting him. His mouth opened and closed, searching for words, but none came. How could you be so casual, so dismissive, after just making out with him? He was the king of sass and comebacks, but he was struck speechless by your nonchalance.

"Wait," he said, his voice slightly rougher than before. "That's it?”

You looked at him as the TV screen flashed, illuminating your face where he could see you with a raised eyebrow, slouched on the couch.

Gojo stared at you, disbelief filling his gaze. Was this really happening? Was he really about to miss out on this opportunity because of a stupid bet? His mind raced, searching for any possible loophole.

"But… I mean," he stuttered, "you were all over me just a minute ago. Are you really just gonna turn away from me now?”

You shrugged. "What do you expect me to do?" you asked. "Since you're set on doing that… November thing.”

Gojo deflated back against the couch, a defeated sigh escaping him. You were giving him attitude, and it was both annoying him and turning him on at the same time.

He ran a hand through his messy hair, trying to think of a response that wouldn't make him sound like a whiny child.

"I don't know," he pouted. "I just… I was hoping you'd understand. Maybe be a little supportive?”

You deadpanned. "You can't be serious. Supportive of what?”

Gojo huffed, his eyes narrowing as he glanced at you, taking in your blank expression.

"Supportive of me trying to win the bet! I've been holding back for about 3 weeks, and you make it seem like it's nothing, like I'm being ridiculous for sticking to it.”

"Not just you, but Geto and everyone else you made the bet with," you said, grabbing your Coke. "It's okay, really, 'Toru. If you’re not up for it, let’s just watch the movie.”

Gojo huffed and slid back into the arm of the couch, sulking. His arms were crossed tightly over his chest as he stared blankly at the movie playing out before him, not really seeing or processing any of it. His mind was a tangled mess of frustration and disappointment, replaying the events of the night over and over.

This was not at all how he had imagined things would go. The movie, with its stupid unexpected sex scene, you, offering yourself to him so freely, so willingly, and most important of all, him, refusing you.

As the night wore on, Gojo found himself growing increasingly restless. He tried to focus on the movie, but his mind kept wandering back to the bet and the opportunity slipping through his fingers. By the time the credits rolled, he was practically vibrating with tension. He turned to you, his heart racing.

His hungry gaze devoured your form, lingering on the tantalizing curves of your breasts, barely contained by your rumpled shirt. The lacy edge of your bra peeked out, teasing him with glimpses of doughy flesh straining against the delicate fabric. Each second stretched into an eternity, his heart pounding wildly in his chest as he imagined burying his face between those soft mounds, worshiping every inch of your divine body. God had granted him the ultimate temptation– the chance to fuck one of his perfect angels, and it felt like divine retribution for not seizing such a heavenly opportunity.

His inner monologue was a rapid-fire debate. The urge to forget the stupid bet, to toss all caution to the wind and just give in to the desire that was coursing through his veins, was overwhelming.

But then the image of Geto's smug face popped into his mind, the memory of the bet gnawing at his thoughts. He couldn't just give in, not after all this time. Could he?

God, your face was so adorable, lips swollen and glistening from his kisses, your neck a leopard print of hickies. His hungry eyes trailed further down, to the tantalizing swell of your ass from your tiny shorts riding up, exposing the globes. The loose hem showcased a pair of skimpy white panties, and he could only imagine how drenched they were, just from him. He was a fool. He's been waiting since highschool for the chance to fuck his dream girl, and when offered the chance, he was just going to give it up? To give it to the next guy? Fuck no. You might not give him another chance by then.

In an instant, he was on his knees, closing the distance between you with a swiftness that was almost alarming. His voice was a low, guttural growl as he leaned over you.

"Screw it.”

Your wide-eyed look of surprise didn't deter Gojo, not one bit. His eyes were burning, his gaze practically burning holes through your clothes.

He planted his hands on the arm of the couch, effectively trapping you, his body looming over you like a predator over its prey.

"Fuck the bet," he growled, his hands roaming hungrily over your curves. "Fuck the bet. Fuck Geto, fuck Shoko, fuck Ino– fuck everything else. I just want to fuck you. They don't have a sexy girl waiting for them at home like I do. They can't understand the struggle."

His mouth crashed against your neck, his tongue and teeth working the sensitive flesh as he pulled you down onto his lap, your bodies melding together on the couch. His hardness pressed insistently against your core as he ground up into you.

Gojo tore at his belt, his fingers flying as he unbuttoned his pants. He pushed them down, along with his underwear, freeing himself. His cock sprung proudly, his tip flushed and glistening with pre. Subtle blue veins snaked up the creamy length, pulsing with need.

Hooking his fingers under your shorts and panties, he tugged them down, exposing your dripping wet pussy to his hungry gaze. You lifted your hips obligingly, allowing him to remove the flimsy garments completely. Gojo groaned at the sight of your slick folds, already swollen with arousal.

Positioning himself beneath you, his rigid shaft bobbed against his stomach. The musky scent of his desire filled the air as his fingers curled around himself, guiding himself to your entrance. He thrust up, sheathing himself inside you in one stroke.

You tossed your head back, your pussy clenching around him. Gojo's eyes rolled back as he bottomed out inside you, his cock buried to the hilt in your tight pussy. He let out a guttural moan, his hands on your hips as he started to pound into you at a brutal pace, his balls slapping against your ass with each thrust.

Gojo's voice was a guttural growl against your neck as he fucked you relentlessly. "I can't... Stop... Fuck, I've wanted this for so long... Fuck, fuck, fuck!" His hips hammered against yours, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing through the room.

"'Toru...!”

"Shh...shh, baby, not so loud..." Gojo panted, trying to muffle his own moans. Despite resigning to fucking you, he remained paranoid that the others may hear you both. Maybe he could salvage himself.

His hips jackhammered upwards, his hard length spearing into you over and over, the couch creaking under the force of his thrusts.

"Oh… Oh god..." You whimpered, grinding against him. "You feel so good…”

Gojo's hands gripped your hips hard enough to bruise as he slammed into you, his thick cock stretching you deliciously. He could feel your velvety walls fluttering around him, gripping him like a vice. "You're so fucking tight…”

His gaze was glued to your bouncing tits as he fucked you, his cock twitching inside you with every bounce. He reached up to grab one, squeezing the soft flesh in his hands as he continued to pound into your soaked pussy. "Fuck, your tits are perfect...so fucking perfect..." He groaned, "you're gonna make me cum so hard…”

“‘Toru…! you feel, feel so... mngh," you whimpered out, your hands curling over his as it kneaded your breasts.

"I'm not going to last long after holding back for so long…” Gojo cried, his voice strained with lust and exertion. “Say my name again, baby. Please…”

“‘Toru…!”

Gojo threw his head back with a loud groan as he heard his name on your lips, the sound spurring him on. His thrusts became erratic, losing rhythm as his climax approached. "Oh, shit… oh shit–! I'm... I'm gonna... fuck!”

Gojo buried himself inside you as far as he could go, his cock pulsing. "Ah fuck, ah fuck, ah–fuck!”

With a loud grunt, Gojo pulled you down to bury his face in the valley of your breasts, his cock throbbing violently inside you as he unleashed a torrent of cum deep within your pussy. His entire body shudders as he emptied himself inside you, filling you to the brim with his thick, hot seed. "Nnngh!"

You continued to grind down onto him, prolonging your shared climax. He groaned, his cock twitching with aftershocks as your pussy clenched and fluttered around him, milking him for every last drop. "Fuck...yes… ride it out, baby… ride... ugh…”

As your movements stilled, Gojo moved to nuzzled into your neck, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. He peppered soft kisses onto your heated skin, his hands still squeezing your breasts gently. "Mmm... you feel so good... why'd we wait so long..."

Gathering your thoughts, you sighed, "'cuz you're always doing dumb things. You lost by the way.”

Gojo chuckled weakly, his arms wrapping around you to pull you closer. "Yeah, yeah, I know. I'm just glad it's finally over… and now I get to do this every day…”

He pressed his lips to your neck, a shuddering sigh escaping you, just as his phone buzzed on the coffee table. It was a message from Geto, who lived in the flat above.

New text from MOMMY GETO!

sent 9:48p.m.:

loser.

[drewswife]

Heyyy I have a req for drew x actress reader, where they’re together and working on set. Reader gest really sick but doesn’t say anything and Drew is busy with work so he doesn’t notice. When they get to filming a scene together she gets really dizzy and ill etc. And Drew ofc feels so bad that he didn’t notice anything.

Sorry if it’s too specific (English is not my first language)

The bright lights of the movie set always made your head spin a little, but today it felt different. A fuzzy, uncomfortable feeling had been creeping up on you all morning. You tried to ignore it, focusing on your lines and hitting your marks. Drew, your boyfriend and co-star, was across the bustling set, deep in conversation with the director about the next scene. He looked so focused, his brow furrowed in concentration, and you didn't want to bother him. He had a lot on his plate today.

You coughed lightly, hoping it wasn't noticeable. Your throat felt scratchy, and a wave of nausea rolled through you. "Just nerves," you mumbled to yourself, taking a sip from your water bottle.

Hours passed in a blur of takes, costume changes, and hurried instructions. The fuzzy feeling intensified, turning into a dull ache that spread through your body. You felt clammy and a little shaky, but you plastered on a smile whenever someone looked your way. You were a professional, after all.

Finally, they called for the scene you and Drew had together. It was a pivotal moment in the movie, a tense confrontation filled with emotion. You took your place on the set, trying to remember your lines through the growing dizziness.

Drew walked over, his usual easygoing smile in place. "Ready?" he asked, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

"Yeah," you managed, your voice sounding a little weak even to your own ears.

The director called "Action!" and the scene began. You delivered your lines, trying to channel the character's anger and hurt, but the room seemed to sway slightly. Your vision blurred for a moment, and you gripped your hands tightly to stop them from shaking.

As the scene progressed, you were supposed to step closer to Drew, your character confronting his. But as you moved, the dizziness hit you full force. The lights seemed to explode in your vision, and the ground tilted beneath your feet. A wave of icy sweat broke out on your forehead.

Before you knew it, the world went black.

You vaguely registered the sound of your own body hitting the floor and a chorus of worried shouts. Then, nothing.

When you finally blinked your eyes open, the bright set lights were gone, replaced by the softer glow of what looked like a medical bay. A worried face swam into focus above you.

"Hey sweetheart ," Drew said softly, his hand gently stroking your hair. His usual cheerful demeanor was replaced by a look of deep concern.

"Drew?" you mumbled, your throat feeling like sandpaper.

"Yeah, it's me," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "You scared me half to death."

You tried to sit up, but a wave of weakness washed over you. "What happened?"

"You fainted," he explained, his eyes filled with guilt. "Right in the middle of the scene. Everything just… stopped."

A nurse bustled around you, checking your pulse and temperature. "She's coming around now," she said gently to Drew. "Just needs to rest."

Drew kept his gaze fixed on you, his hand still in your hair. "I had no idea you weren't feeling well," he said, his voice barely a whisper. "Why didn't you say anything?"

You looked away, feeling a little foolish. "I didn't want to bother you. You were so busy…"

Drew gently turned your face back to his. "Hey," he said, his eyes earnest. "Nothing is more important than you. If you're not feeling okay, you tell me, okay? Always."

Tears welled up in your eyes, partly from the lingering dizziness and partly from his genuine concern. "I'm sorry," you whispered.

"Don't be sorry," he said, his thumb softly wiping away a tear that escaped your eye. "I should have noticed. I should have been paying more attention."

"You were working," you said weakly.

"And you were hurting," he countered gently. "From now on, we look out for each other, okay? No matter how busy things get."

a/n: thanks for the req don’t worry english is not my first language either! :)

tags, @starrii-sturns @chrepsi @drewsstars @spencerreid66 more

[tinylilacbun]

Hi!! I love your writing so much could you do dad!drew with toddler reader where she brings him like rocks/trinkets because she saw a documentary on penguins because they give their loved ones little trinkets 😭😭

Since you came into Drew's life he started to appreciate the one hour of just relaxing with you on the couch more and more.

At first, he only did it to help you wind down from the day, already having you ready for bed and just waiting for you to get drowsy from the cozy atmosphere he provides.

Once he finds out that you love animals he puts on a documentary almost every evening, almost amazed at how you quickly settle down on the cushions while holding your favorite stuffie and sucking on a pacifier, making a grabby hand for him to join you.

Drew enjoys those quiet moments with you, cuddling you close to his side as you watch the documentaries with such wonder and a little twinkle in your eyes while absorbing the many fun facts and informations about the animals.

At one point you start to randomly hand him things throughout the week, such as rocks, pearls, acorns, anything small you find during the day and deem worthy of gifting him.

First, he didn't think anything of it, it's nothing new for toddlers to just hand their parents something and skip off again, he finds it adorable and obviously keeps anything you give him.

Something that he thinks is just a phase, somehow never stops...

His collection gets so big that he has to get a middle sized box to place all your little gifts in it, not having the heart to get rid of them.

One day, on the set of outer banks for the fourth season, he has just finished a scene at the beach with Fiona and looks where you ran off to with Madelyn as she offered to watch you while he was shooting the scene.

"Daddy!" He hears you shriek from behind him, turning around in time for you to dash into his legs, wrapping your arms around them while looking up at him with a big grin.

"Hi baby, you having fun with Aunt Maddy?" He asks, ruffling your hair before lifting you into his arms.

"Uh huh!" You nod eagerly. "An' wook..." You reach into your pocket to show him the seashells you found along the shore, holding them out to him. "For you."

"They are all for me?" He gasps, gently grabbing them from your small palm to take a look at them. "Those are really pretty shells, sweetie. Thank you."

"Oh, don't think that's all." Madelyn laughs as she approaches you both, holding even more seashells in her arms. "She only stopped collecting because we couldn't carry more, saying she has to give them all to you."

"Oh...okay. Thank you for watching her though, really appreciate it." He says with a smile, adjusting his hold on you.

"Of course, I- um, gonna look for a bag for all those shells." She laughs, doing her best to not lose any of them as she walks past you both.

Drew looks for a chair to sit down on, moving you to sit on his lap facing him, chuckling as you pull out a few more seashells from your other pocket.

He says your name to get your attention, waiting for you to look at him before continuing. "Why do you give me all those little trinkets? I mean, I love them! Just, why so many?"

"Wike the penguins, daddy!" You tell him as if the answer is obvious.

He furrows his brows in confusion, trying his best to figure out what you're talking about. "Penguins?"

"Yeah! Penguins give gifts ta say I lub you." You explain to him. "An' I lub you too, so you gets gifts."

Now it finally clicks in his head. You've both watched a documentary about penguins a while back, learning about how they give their loved ones trinkets once in a while.

"Ahh, I see." He starts to smile even more at the realization, leaning forward to press a kiss to your forehead, taking the other shells from your hand as well. "I love you too, baby, so much."

Guess he'll have to get a bigger box now.

[sugurusfavemonkey]

HIGH ACHIEVER - TWO: CHANGING LIKE THE CURRENT

summary: You've always prided yourself on your grades but when Suguru enters the scene, competing for the top spot in your major becomes more than just a matter of honor. What happens when you're forced to work together on a long project (and so what if he happens to be just your type)?

pairing: Geto Suguru x reader

word count: 2.7k

content: college AU; academic rivals to lovers; short series; mutual hatred attraction; afab!reader; angst/comfort; reader is described as being shorter than Suguru (but then again, the man is about 6'3' so who isn't?); smut (in future chapters - MDNI)

♪playlist♪

+more Jujutsu Tech College AU

previous chapter

"At long last, some progress!" Satoru threw himself on his best friend's bed carelessly, "with the way they absolutely despise you though I gotta say, even I couldn't see that coming. What did you do to actually get them to agree with that? Blackmailing? Threatening?" he shot up from his laid position with a dramatic gasp, "did you finally confess your undying devotion?"

Geto tsked at his theatrical behavior, eyes never straying from the pages of the book set on the desk in front of him. He was more than used to Gojo's antics to the point where it didn't even bother him anymore.

"Yaga got tired of the back and forth and decided to punish us with a group project, see if we learn to work together or something." He decided to explain only to avoid listening to Satoru's endless musing.

"Ah. That does make a bit more sense. Not nearly as exciting as I thought it would be…" Satoru sighed, "how boring."

Suguru wheeled around his swivel chair and faced Satoru with an appeasing smile, but his eyes betrayed his annoyance. "Don't you have a test to study for, Satoru?"

"Why? I'm gonna ace it anyway," he pushed himself up and away from the bed, casually walking towards his friend.

"Of course you will." Suguru ignored his approach, choosing instead to turn back to his desk.

"No need to be sardonic, Suguru. I'm sure you'll do just as well. We are the best, after all," he paused minutely, a large beam forming on his face, "though I'm slightly better."

Satoru leaned over his shoulder, reaching one arm around to close the book with a loud thud and picking up the phone his friend had discarded to the side before he started his studies and unlocking it with a naturalness that suggested he did it often. Suguru tried to protest, once more twirling the chair around to follow Satoru's movement with his eyes, hands clenching around the chair's arms.

"What are you-"

"Now, when are you gonna text her?" He interrupted Suguru, scrolling through the cell, "where even is her contact?" Satoru wondered in a whisper before giving up and pushing the device against Suguru's chest, "just do it already!"

"Satoru…" he groaned, grasping the cell in fear it fell as Satoru dropped his hold on it and walked backward.

"Chop, chop," the white-haired jokester clapped his hands. "You're stalling, pretty boy!"

"Sometimes I wonder why I even bother with you anymore."

"Because I'm the most incredible person you've ever met and you love me?"

"Keep telling yourself that." He retorted half-heartedly, but Satoru was already back at the bed, his Switch held above his head as he queued up Digimon World.

Suguru's attention was lured back to the device on his hand then. He drew in a breath in foreboding, staring at the list open on his phone, your contact glaring back at him as he remembered the contempt with which you treated him, the adorable way you frowned in anger at each of his jabs...

"Fuck it," he murmured to himself before opening up a new conversation:

Hey. It's Suguru. I was wondering when we could meet.

He looked at the words after sending the first text and winced at it, immediately following up with two more messages:

To talk about the project.

How's your Sunday looking?

Suguru stared impatiently at the screen for a whole minute before deciding he was being a creep and turning it off. He had barely looked up at Satoru and opened his lips to say something when there was a loud ping. The black-haired man scrambled to turn it back on, the notification of a new text received making his head spin and heart accelerate in his chest, it felt like the organ was being squeezed by his ribcage.

I can't on Sundays.

Oh.

Wednesday night had you lying on your bed as you read over Professor Yaga's email with an in-depth briefing on the project appointed to you and Suguru on your phone when a notification from one 'arrogant prick n2' popped up on the top of the screen.

At the shock of receiving a text exactly when your mind had been on said arrogant prick, you lost the hold you had on the device and let out a pained groan when it hit your chest. The throb on your chest from the blow had you spitting colorful curses aimed at Suguru until you managed to sit up and open the message. No, messages.

You opened up the keyboard, letting your fingers hover over the letters until you figured out an appropriate reply. You settled on a plain and straightforward sentence.

I'm sure you have a VERY important engagement on a Sunday.

You audibly gasped as you read his immediate response.

what is that supposed to mean?

I thought you were literate... or do you simply lack reading comprehension?

Just when you thought he couldn't possibly make you angrier, Suguru goes and throws yet another impossibly irritating dig to your intellect. You decided to cut off the conversation before it escalated for once, if at least to keep up your peace of mind:

good to know you're just as insufferable through text.

don't bother me unless you have something significant to say.

wait!

You were just about to put your cell down and move on to something productive when the text hit and curiosity kept your attention locked on the three little dots moving as he wrote a follow-up. Chances were it would be another taunt.

I'm actually busy this Saturday with a policy advocacy rally, would you like to come?

it could be useful to our project.

You hated when Suguru poked fun at you but, for some reason, you despised when he raised reasonable ideas. It probably had something to do with the fact that the mere idea of being compliant with him made you sick. How someone could elicit such strong feelings from you was a question you would rather leave unanswered for now.

fine.

text me the details.

no need. I'll pick you up at 7 am. Send me your address.

"This better be worth it if this lunatic is making me wake at ass dawn on a Saturday," you mumble to yourself, glaring at the text as if he would be able to feel your discontentment before giving up and sending him the address.

And to think you had found him charming upon first meeting… Only for Suguru to toss your first impression under the bus at the earliest opportunity. You were both still freshmen back then and you were feeling so proud to be able to answer the professor's inquiry with ease when his sweet voice chimed in from the back row of the auditorium, his white-haired counterpart snickering beside him,

"Actually," and it all went downhill.

Teeth grinding together, skin warm and heart thrumming loudly in your ears, the mere recollection was enough to bring your anger up tenfold. It's always been like this: Suguru has a way of getting under your skin with minimum effort that no one else has.

It was a small miracle that it hadn't been snowing that Saturday morning yet the frigid air was anything but forgiving. You mentally cursed Suguru with every single swearword you could think of as you stood by the entrance of your building at 7 am sharp bundled up in a large wool coat and scarf that did nothing to stop the cutting wind from hitting your face or the frostbite to your toes inside the not-so-warm shoes you wore.

You were strongly considering turning on your heel and getting back inside to your awaiting bed when you spotted the approaching car. Suguru parked right in front of the building's steps without turning off the engine and you watched as he leaned across the center console to open the passenger door for you.

"Get in." He ordered before you had time to utter your measly 'good morning'.

You huffed in annoyance, the puff of air leaving your parted lips serving as a reminder of the unrelenting cold and pushing you into action. You could had been petty and ignored his command since you had no obligation to Suguru and his rally, but you also just wanted to get this all done with as soon as possible.

You got in, closed the door behind you and, at Suguru's sharp gaze, put on the seatbelt. You hadn't even settled properly when he reached over you to adjust the grid vent of the air conditioning so the warm air would be aimed at you, one thick strand of hair escaping from his neat bun and falling in front of his eyes. The sudden proximity sent your heart into overdrive and your head spinning as you inhaled his intoxicating woody scent. You sunk back against the cushion of the recliner to avoid the slight brush of his arm to your chest but still, you felt the warmth irradiating from beneath the fabric of his white shirt.

You kept your back flushed to the seat even after Suguru pulled away and started the drive, hands clutching tight onto the seatbelt strip until you eventually regained your composure, the pleasant temperature inside the vehicle aiding in soothing you.

"Wish-"

"I'm s-"

'Wishing someone a good morning never killed anyone' is what you wanted to say yet you lost your nerve when he started at the same time as you. There was a terse silence as the both of you waited for the other to continue but none did. Finally, Suguru seemed to have enough as he picked up a neat stack of papers he had kept on the dashboard and offered it to you.

"Here," was all he said to present it.

"What's this?" You asked as you hesitantly accepted the papers, eyes curiously peeking at the writing at the top of the first page. You gasped once you managed to get a read on it, "I don’t need a…" you flicked through the pages, finding them to be numbered, and turned your incredulous gaze back to an unbothered Suguru, "20-page lit review, Geto. This project is about getting into the field and talking to people.”

"Tch. So we make uninformed decisions? I'm not surprised though. Being reckless does seem to match your usual approach."

"I am under no obligation to follow you into the stupid rally. I don't care about the dumb politics side of it when there's an obvious course of action to be taken. I'm here because I thought I'd give you the benefit of the doubt," you didn't miss the way his jaw clenched at your words, your gaze settled firmly on his side profile as you spoke. "I should've guessed you would be just as much of a dickhead as usual though."

His fingers tightened on the steering wheel to the point his knuckles turned white but Suguru remained otherwise silent. You took that as some form of reluctant acceptance on his part or at least an attempt to maintain some semblance of peace considering the two of you were stuck inside a car for an undetermined amount of time.

The rest of the trip was spent in agonizing stillness neither of you dared to break.

After nearly one hour, Suguru drove into the garage of a business center building, easily parking his nondescript black car in a tight, vacant spot. Once the engine was off, there was a moment where you just sat there, his hands still on the wheel and eyes steered forward. Suguru sighed before finally turning to you, his gaze softening minutely.

"Listen, for what's worth, I'm glad you've decided to come."

You didn't know what to make of his words. You almost let yourself believe he was being heartfelt until you remembered you weren't used to hearing anything other than patronizing comments or thinly veiled insults coming from him. You narrowed your gaze and gave him a faux saccharine smile.

"Of course. I know you want to get this project over and done with as much as me, Geto."

"…Right," he nodded slowly. "Anyway, we're here," Suguru opened his own door and stepped out of the car, briefly slanting his head to meet your gaze. "Let's move before you make me late," he smirked at your perplexed face and pushed the door close before you could formulate an answer.

"It's not like I'm holding you hostage," you scrambled out of the car and after him, voice a few octaves higher than usual as you closed the passenger door with more force than necessary. "You could've left the car at any point!"

Suguru chuckled lightly as he opened the back door to pick up a black topcoat you hadn't seen thrown over the back seats, "yes, but where would the fun be in that?"

"You just love annoying me, don't you?" You crossed your arms, eyes following his movements as he put on the coat, covering his sinfully thin waist and broad shoulders previously displayed in his perfectly fitted white shirt and high-waisted trousers. How could someone so irritating always look so dapper?!

"And if I do?"

"I-" you gaped, your brain abruptly malfunctioning as you struggled to come up with a comeback.

"Suguru!"

You were saved from the spotlight by a pretty woman waving from the door that led to the inside of the building. Suguru smiled and waved back, motioning for you to follow him.

"Took you long enough," she sidestepped so you could join her inside the lobby.

Suguru hummed, placing a placating hand on her shoulder, a kind smile etched on his face.

"You know it's not like me to not follow through when I commit to something, Manami."

"Well, tell that to Miguel."

The three of you stopped in front of an elevator and you waited awkwardly until Suguru seemed to remember you were also there.

"Oh, yeah. Manami, this is a… colleague from Jujutsu Tech. Don't mind her, she's just here to watch."

You scoffed but decided it best to ignore his lack of manners upon introducing you opting instead to offer your hand to the pretty woman "Nice to meet you, Manami."

She glanced from Suguru to you and took your hand in a firm handshake, her smile seeming to grow predatory, "Trust me, the pleasure is all mine."

During the ride on the elevator to the floor of the conference room where the meeting was being held, you tuned off their conversation, self-deprecating thoughts making you feel small as you compared your own casual clothing to Manami's tight-fitted, long black dress, dark high heels, and fur-collared white jacket. She looked effortlessly chic with her long dusty pink hair styled in subtle waves while you looked like a plain college student... which you were, and normally, you would see nothing wrong with that, except that something in that specific situation was getting to you. You sighed dejectedly.

You were pulled from your head when the elevator signaled you had arrived at your destination, and Suguru guided you out with a hand to your middle back. The warmth easily trespassed the layers of clothing and brought a flush to your cheeks.

"I have to get to the stage, but Manami will guide you to a seat, alright?" He leaned closer to whisper, warm breath fanning against your ear.

You only nodded, afraid your voice would've failed you.

"Great. Don't have too much fun."

At that, you couldn't help but laugh, covering it up with a cough, but Suguru noticed if his pleased expression was anything to take by, "Don't give yourself too much credit, Geto."

"Don't blame me for wanting to impress you."

"Impress me?"

He shrugged, still smiling as he walked backward and away from you, playful gaze glued to you until you couldn't take it anymore and faced a smug-looking Manami instead.

Suddenly, you wished you had gone back to your bed when you had had the chance.

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taglist: @indiewritesxoxo @nanasukii28 @madamechrissy @myahfig4 @cajunfootrub @feralfortojidotcom @howmanytimesamigoingtotrythis @starmapz @dunesinruins

©sugurusfavemonkey 2025┃all rights reserved. do not copy, repost, translate or otherwise modify this work

[butterfreetamer]

I was inspired by this piece of art by @tomatoplantoo

Cross posted to AO3 here.

Only Playing Dead

Today was a good day.  Stan was lounging on the deck whittling away at a hunk of wood that he was hoping to make into a pig.  It’d been a long time since he felt like he’d been able to just relax like this, pick up a new hobby for no reason other than he wanted to.  It was calm, which was a nice change of pace.

That was until his brother came dramatically swooping onto the deck.  “Ah!  Stanley, there you are!  Great, you’re not busy.  I need you to come with me to the lab.”

Stan sighed.  He sets down his project and gets up to follow Ford.  He’d rather ignore whatever Ford’s got going on right now, but the chances of him leaving Stan in peace seem pretty slim.  “What’s up, poindexter?”

Ford bounces impatiently as Stan pulls himself out of the lounge chair.  “I finished setting up for an experiment that requires your presence!”

Stan rolls his eyes.  “That’s not ominous or anything,” he mutters to himself as Ford corrals him into the cabin.  “Why exactly do you need me?”

“Well…”  Ford hesitates for a second.  “There is a spirit that has attached itself to you.”

“A spirit attached…”  He takes a moment to process.  “Wait, Ford, are you saying I’m haunted?!”

Ford looks a bit sheepish and then admits, “To put it simply, yes.  Given its activities it appears to be benign or benevolent, but it is still wise to investigate these things.”

“Oh, holy Moses.”  He’s haunted, and he didn’t know.  “How long do you think this thing’s been on me?”

“Well,”  Ford muses as they enter the lab, “I’ve never seen one so firmly attached to a person before, normally an attachment like this would only be to a place or an heirloom or such, and attachments get stronger with time, so it must be… at least a few decades old.”

“You’re telling me a ghost has been on me for decades???”

“Yes, I suppose I am.  You know, it doesn’t seem reminiscent of any of the ghosts I researched back in Gravity Falls.  It’s truly an anomaly!”  Ford has the gaul to look thrilled at this.

Why is his brother like this?  “I’m glad you’re having fun but can’t we just get this thing off of me?”

“Give me a moment.  With a ghost this firmly attached, it’s easier to exorcise if we can see and trap it first.  Though, as I said, given its behavior I do not believe we need to worry.”

“Right, behavior that you’ve been keeping track of!  How long have you known I was haunted before you said anything?!?”

“Only a few weeks, I didn’t want to compromise the data while I was still testing hypotheses,” he rattles off dispassionately as he digs through some papers on his desk.

Stan dragged a hand across his face, a few weeks before telling him.  “You’re impossible, Ford.”

“Yes, yes,” Ford waves him off dismissively.  “Ah, here’s my notes.  This spell should make it visible to us.  Here, hold this.”  He finishes rustling through some jars and hands him a weird smelling collection of herbs and twigs that remind him of Ma’s incense.

Stan sighs holding the bundle and lets Ford guide him into a circle of ruins Ford drew on the ground.  “Should I be worried about any of this magic nonsense you got set up?”

Ford rolls his eyes as he lights some candles.  “Please, Stanley, do you think I’d do something dangerous without warning you?”

Stan shoots his brother a look.  “You really want me to answer that?”

Ford glares back.  “There’s nothing to worry about, at most there might be a flash of light as the spell completes.”  He gives the scene in front of him a once over and nods approvingly.  “Well, we’re all set up, just need to read the incantation.  Are you ready, Stan?”

“Go ahead,” Stan sighs, gesturing for Ford to continue.

Ford nods and starts chanting in latin or something, before he knows it there’s a blinding flash.

The light clears and his vision is back and Ford has a look of surprised glee on his face staring at a space right over his left shoulder.  “Why hello there!  That explains why the spirit was so attached to you.”

There’s a hiss from behind his neck.  He tries to turn and see what’s behind him but whatever it is clinging close to him.  “Holy crap Ford, what’s going on?”

“Oh, yes, um, let me.”  Ford fishes out a mirror from his pile of supplies and turns it to face Stan.

There blue, glowing, translucent, and hovering right over the back of his shoulder was a grumpy old possum.  “Shanklin?”  He reaches up to hold the little guy and he jumps into Stanley’s arms.  “Buddy, you’ve been here this whole time?”  As Shanklin burrows his nose into the crook of his elbow affectionately, he can definitely feel his little pal, even if he’s not quite solid.  There’s a chill where Shanklin touches him but he can’t help but feel warm holding his old pet anyway.  Stan does his best to give him some affectionate scritches even if Shanklin doesn't have much in the way of tangibility.

“Definitely a benevolent spirit,” Ford says brightly as he jots down some notes.

“Benevolent!” Stan exclaims in faux outrage, “Don’t insult Shanklin like that!  He’s a no good miscreant!”  Shanklin hisses in agreement.

Ford rolls his eyes fondly.  “Yes, I suppose you’re right.”  He looks back to his notepad and hums thoughtfully.  “Now, we need to figure out what to do with him.”

Stan’s eyes narrow suspiciously, he clutches his ghostly possum protectively.  “What do you mean ‘do with him’?”

Ford furrows his brow as he continues writing in his notepad.  “Well, he’s going to need a more permanent solution for visibility and tangibility.  I can’t imagine it was good for him to go ignored all these years, we’ll need to acclimate him to interaction.  Some method of communication might be helpful, I wonder if we could make that opossum translator we tried to invent that summer?  I also need to make sure any defenses I have against supernatural interference won’t get in Shanklin’s way.  We should test the bounds of the attachment as well, make sure it’s not dangerous to either of you.  Do you think he’d appreciate a cat bed?  We could pick one up next time we’re at port.”

Oh good, Ford wants to keep him too, Stan thinks to himself, relieved he won’t have to argue with his brother about this.  As Ford sorts out the logistics of keeping a ghost as a pet aloud, he smiles fondly at the ghost that is settling into a nap in his arms.

Stan has his brother, his boat and his possum, it’s all his eleven year old self could have dreamed of.  Yeah, today is a good day.

[cameronspecial]

Drew Starkey getting jealous of the chemistry between Jacob Elordi and actress!reader who's his girlfriend, since she plays a role in a movie... Can u please 😭😭

Something Better

Pairing: Drew Starkey x Reader

Warnings: N/A

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 0.5K

Masterlist

Ever since watching Drew in The Other Zoey, Y/N has wanted to be in a rom-com. He just made it look like so much fun and she loved the idea of bringing a romance to life. So when she got the opportunity to play the romantic lead in a movie, she jumped at the chance to play the love-scorned woman, who is about to find love again thanks to her male co-star. “I have no idea what you are talking about, Owen,” Y/N recites, shrugging as she continues to pretend to file the documents. Jacob leans against the filing cabinet, “Come on, Abby. You know what I’m talking about.” His hand twirls in her hair as his breath begins to hit her ear. Y/N’s own breath begins to rise and fall at the sensation. Anyone watching the scene unfold can’t deny the chemistry they see between the two actors. Y/N elbows the boy away from her, “Not a clue.” She storms off-screen toward her mark off-set. “Cut,” the director calls from her chair, causing Y/N to pause in her tracks. “That’s a wrap on this scene. Take a break until we set up the next scene.” At the news, Y/N goes looking for her guest of the day. She easily spots his tall stature, running into his arms immediately. “What did you think, Bub?” she seeks his approval with her arms around his neck. 

Drew’s arms slot into the dip of her lower back, “You were amazing, Beautiful. Such a great actress.” Jacob comes up behind the couple and places a friendly hand on her shoulder. “You did great during this scene, Y/N/N. As always,” Jacob praises with a smile. Drew pulls Y/N out of Jacob’s touch and closer to him. His eyes narrow to slivers at the other man and his back straightens to close the height difference a little more. Y/N’s gaze darts between the two men. She holds back a little giggle, “Thanks, Jacob. I think Drew is hungry so we are going to go get something to eat.” Jacob nods at the pair and allows them to excuse themselves from the conversation.

Her head tilts to look at her boyfriend as they head toward Craft. “You were jealous,” she teases, poking at his cheek. Drew scoffs and stares straight ahead, “No I wasn’t. Just because you have chemistry with him doesn’t mean that I’m jealous of him.” “You think I have chemistry with Jacob?” she questions with a frown. Drew’s shoulder rises, “Maybe.” She stops walking and plants herself in front of him. Her warm hand is placed on his cheek to soothe him. “The only reason why it seems like I have chemistry with Jacob is because I was doing my job. I was pretending to,” she explains. “I don’t need to have chemistry with you because I didn’t need to feel a spark when I first met you to fall for you. My heart already knew I belonged to you long before I met you.” He isn’t sure if her words made entirely sense, but it makes sense to them and that is all that matters. It helps placate the green-eyed monster threatening to show its ugly head. “If that’s true, then who needs chemistry. I have something much better.” 

Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @thepatriarchykeychain @drewsmusee @starkowswife @maybankslover @forstarkey @loving-and-dreaming

[paddockbunny]

Crowded

Summary : Inspired by the totally mad crowds outside of the drivers hotel in Budapest. What happens when it goes wrong? Rating : 16+ Pairing : Lando Norris x Reader Word Count : 2,247 ONE SHOT Trigger Warnings : 16+, small bit of language, there is nothing dirty in this BUT there is mention of injury, crowd crushing, accident and hospitals just so you are aware! Images : curated from Pintrest Authors Note: I’m not sure if this is my best work but I wanted to get it up during the GP weekend. Also, this is not shaming any fans but I think we can all agree that the scenes outside of the drivers hotels this weekend is a little extreme

The sun was setting as you and Lando made your way back to the hotel. It had been a tough day for him. The McLaren wasn’t playing ball around the boiling hot Budapest circuit and he had only managed to get P12 for Sundays race. Disappointed and frustrated he had barely said a word since getting into the drivers seat and you knew better than to try engage him in any type of conversation when he was so in his head. You had better ways of making him forget about the day - and none of them required either of you wearing clothes.

“Fuck!” Lando drew out an exasperated sigh as he turned on to the street where the hotel was. Throngs of people were crowded, no rammed, into every available space. They were 7-8 lines deep. 10-11 in some places. It was worse than the previous two days when it was at least limited to right outside of the hotel but tonight, it sheer amount of people was unbelievable. Barriers had to be erected to hold them all back and while Lando slowly drove up to where he was being directed too they began to scream and holler loudly at the car. “Lando, is this….” You glanced out of your passenger side window to the sea of faces “safe?” you finished.

“I’m sure it will be.” He was calm about the whole thing. He didn’t seem phased in the slightest which made you wonder why you were suddenly feeling a little panicked. Your hands hand gone clammy and your pulse had quickened. A tight feeling grew in your throat and your lungs felt like they were anxiously holding on to a breath that you couldn’t expel. Lando parked the car. You heard the decibels from the crowd outside increase as he cut the engine. “I’m a little worried.” You finally explained to him. You had been mindful of his mindset since Quali. You knew he would be in a dejected, disappointed mood and he wouldn’t want you creating imaginary problems. “I can’t not sign some stuff.” He shrugged but gave you a sympathetic look. You understood that and you understood how all this came along with his job but it felt to you to be chaotic and crazed - and he hadn’t even gotten out of the car yet. “Just go inside. You go in and wait for me in the lobby.” He opened the door as a hint it was time to leave the safety of the vehicle.

The noise from cheering and screaming hit you as soon as you climbed out of the McLaren Lando had been given this weekend. Sure, the roar wasn’t for you - you knew how much fans disapproved of your relationship from all the hate you got on your social media - but you wondered if this was how it felt to be famous. To be a Harry Styles or a Taylor Swift. It was daunting and alien to you. There was no way you would ever get used to it like they did. Or in fact your boyfriend did. He was already at a barrier, signing shirts and caps for swooning fangirls. He smiled away as he turned and took quick selfies so they could remember their 20 seconds with him forever.

A security guard from the Ritz-Carlton came over to you and started guiding you around the car and toward the hotel. But in that moment you realised Lando had the room key. You knew his quick 10 minutes would probably be more like 30 and honestly, you just wanted to get out of view already. You weren’t shy but with all the stuff you had read about yourself from jealous fangirls you didn’t want to give them anymore fodder. So instead of going straight in you headed over toward your boyfriend. He was in the process of signing a cap when you whispered in his ear about the hotel room key.

And then it all happened in an instant. It happened so quickly you had zero idea what had even transpired. You felt a knock to the side of you as the security guard pushed up against you and then cool, hard metal being thrust against your other side. You felt sandwiched. That was the immediate sense. And then, it was replaced by pure and utter pain. The type of pain that ripped through your entire body. That consumed your whole physical being and captures every last fibre of your brain. You couldn’t think of anything other than trying to get a breath in and your eyes began to sting when you couldn’t, it was a struggle. The same security guard that had been guiding you to the hotel - who had just been hard up against you - was pulling you away. Your feet barely able to touch the floor as you wanted to let out a yell that you were in pain but nothing came out. The agony in your chest was nothing like you had ever felt before and as the doors of the hotel were pulled open, you knew something was wrong.

“Baby!” Lando’s panicked voice was the first thing you heard. His outstretched arms as he rushed to you the first you saw. “What” you struggled “happened?” “The barrier gave way. People started pushing from the back.” His hands were going all over you, checking you had no physical scrapes after you nearly tumbled to the floor. But while you might have looked on in the outside you knew from the fight going on while trying to breathe, things weren’t ok. “I” you started “can’t breathe.” He had to have seen the pained expression flooding your face as he immediately turned and looked for Jon.

As you were guided toward a more private area of reception - out of all the hundreds of prying eyes outside the glass facade of the hotel - you couldn’t think of anything but the sheer pain you were in. You felt tears form in your eyes a slowly trickle down your cheeks. You weren’t meaning to cry, it just hurt so badly that it was an automatic response. Jon, bless him, thought you were having a panic attack so proceeded to try calm you down with some breathing techniques but he stopped when Lando loudly exclaimed; “Mate, that’s not working. Look at her!” And his hand was in yours seconds later. “What do you need baby?” Lando’s hand caressed down the back of your head. You didn’t want to say it because you didn’t want to be a drama Queen, but the torture in your left side was insurmountable. “A doctor.”

It was THAT bad. And it was about to get worse.

Two hours later, you were sitting propped up in a hospital bed awaiting the results of an X-Ray. Lando hadn’t left your side, he held your hand tightly and raised your cup to let you sip on water. He kept blaming himself and he should have listened to your concerns about safety earlier. No matter now many times you assured him it was your choice to come get the room key he insisted he should have made sure you had it before leaving you and you wouldn’t have been lying in a hospital bed in Budapest if he hadn’t been so absentminded. Lando simply went round and round in circles. He blamed himself, blamed security and even blamed the fans at the back pushing those at the front to try and get to him while you (in your head) blamed yourself. You should have just waited for him in the lobby. You should have listened to your gut. But there was no use in blaming anyone or feeling bad about it now.

When the doctor finally came in to your private room at the end of the corridor, you were practically flying from the drugs they had given you. They took a while to kick in but now, you had never felt such damn euphoria in your life. In broken English the doctor took a deep breath in and finally stated; “Unfortunately, you have two broken rib.” Broken ribs. Two. That would explain why there was so much pain and why you couldn’t breathe. You hadn’t as much as broken a finger or a toe before so breaking a rib felt extreme, and yet you had broken two! As you tried to listen to the course of action and pain management plan the doctor was describing you could see Lando become more and more frustrated beside you. He only just about managed to keep composed while the doctor was in talking to you and unleashed when the door was finally closed again.

“Fuck!” He groaned under his breath. “What the fuck?!” You weren’t sure if he was pissed because of the broken ribs themselves, because you had to abstain from sex until you had healed properly, because of the fact you would have to go rest at home and not continue on Belgium (and potentially not go on the amazing summer holiday he had planned during the summer break), or how you had them broken in the first place. You watched Lando pull his phone out of his jeans pocket and you asked him what he was doing. “I’m not driving tomorrow. I’m calling Zak.” “Lando…” you sighed - as much as you actually could “No. I’m not leaving you in pain, alone, in a foreign country. This wouldn’t have happened if they didn’t allow the hotel to tell everyone where we were staying.” He held the phone to his ear and you couldn’t move to even attempt to get it away from him. You just had to watch as he awaited Zak to pick up his call.

Thankfully, it went to voicemail and he cancelled the call. He announced he would try him again in a few minutes. You could see the vein in his temple throbbing away. You had come to know as a signal when he was frustrated or angry with something - or when he was horny or about to come but those were certainly not the case right now - and you knew you had to talk him down. “I’m sorry, Lando.” “What for? It’s not your fault.” He sighed. “I know but you wanted me at the track tomorrow. I should have just went in and waited like you told me too.” You were hoping your tone was enough to convince him and talk him down. “Don’t. It wasn’t your fault, baby.” He rejoined you back on your bed. He had been sitting on the edge of it, holding your hand before the doctor had come in. And now, you were (ok pretending a little so his anger dispersed) feeling sorry for yourself he came back to the same position. He gently ran his hand down your cheek and you nuzzled against it like a little kitten feeling happy at the touch. “I feel so bad about summer too. You planned that amazing holiday and…” “Stop it. If I have to drive from Monaco to Italy then I will or I will book a bigger jet with a bed so you can lie down. You’re going.” He was very determined about you not missing out on the trip. There wasn’t a doubt you knew Lando would look after you - when he was around to do so - over the next few weeks. You knew he would snuggle with you, plump your pillows, help you get dressed and shower and also force you to eat his terrible cooking, unintentionally make you laugh and ask you when you were better a million times a day because he wanted to have sex.

“You have to drive tomorrow.” You told him, looking in those sage green eyes of his. “It’s not fair of the team.” “It’s a family emergency” He shrugged and his eyes (subconsciously) flickered down to your lips before he sighed (probably reminding himself there would be no sexy time for the forceable future). Seconds later Lando yielded. “I’m still going to call Zak. I want to let him know you were injured because of the crowds at the hotel.” It was fair enough “Maybe he can ask them to do something. Move them back, keep them away from the entrance. When they’re right there and gather like that you feel like you have to go to them, like you have to choice.”

“They just want to meet their hero. They just got overexcited.” You felt yourself sympathising with the fans in the crowd that had surged forward and resulted in you getting hurt. You had never been THAT big a fan of anyone before but you were sure that if you were it would be easy to get caught up in the moment.

“This is why I love you. Even when you are lying in hospital with two broken ribs you are still thinking about other people and can forgive them for hurting you” Lando smiled broadly. You had no reply to him. You just coyly smiled back. “C’mere….” He made a tilting movement with his head and you tried not to laugh because it hurt too much “I can’t.” Your words were met with a confused eyebrow lower from Lando before he realised “Oh right, sorry.” He chuckled and leaned in carefully so not to put any pressure against your chest. “I love you.” He whispered before his lips touched against yours. And when you were about to answer him and tell him you loved him more, you hesitated. You realised you were just happy to have his lips on yours and his kiss made you feel safe and secure.

[dat-town]

lowkey the one you need

Characters: Myung Jaehyun & female reader

Setting & genre: college au, friends to lovers

Summary: Your friendship of three years with Jaehyun has been shifting lately but you can’t quite explain why. Until you do.

Warnings: mentions of pushy guys, alcohol consumption and cliche games at college parties, jealousy

Words: 1.9k

Author’s note: happy bday to our beloved puppy leader! (no matter what he says there’s nothing wolfish about him... 99% of the time); title from nice guy English version,  header pic of Jaehyun from mint

@restlessmaknae thanks again for bringing these boys into my life! without them my writing stats for this year would have been quite poor but now look at me, bday stories for all of them? who would have thought?

The weight of Myungjae’s arm around your shoulders was familiar. Welcomed even. Warm and comforting, a feeling you could sink into on movie nights, it was nothing new.

And yet, there was something different this time. Something like butterfly wings scratching the surface, a tickling feeling, heart racing.

“Is there a problem, babe?” The boy spoke up, casual as he drew out the endearment as if he called you that every other day but his usually bubbly and bright voice was serious and stern, something threatening hanging between the syllables. He shot a dubious glance at the guy in front of you before finding your eyes, his gaze softening as soon as it settled on you. You smiled, relieved, grateful, but  somehow nervous because you felt exposed and vulnerable as if looking at you too long would have exposed too many secrets. Secrets you weren’t ready to uncover.

“It’s okay. I was just telling Hyuntae that I’m not interested,” you said as nonchalantly as you could, not wanting to make a scene.

With his side pressed against yours you could feel the way Jaehyun’s body tensed at your answer, his hand sliding from your shoulder to your arm, pulling you closer gently. The movement was simple yet it was halfway between protective and possessive. You weren’t sure how much of it was acting, just him being a good friend trying to scare off a pushy guy who seemingly didn’t understand no. It wouldn’t have been the first time. But this time around it made your heart flutter.

Something was definitely different this time. Something like the taste of cherry coke on your tongue and the smoke in your lungs that made you cough. Getting fresh air was never about clear night breeze at college parties after all. Still, you had rather inhaled the nicotine of strangers’ cigarettes on the crammed balcony than to watch Jaehyun kiss Younha in that stupid game of Truth or Dare. It tasted more bitter, the tang of jealousy, so you excused yourself and that was how you got yourself here, between your best friend and a guy who thought it was lame that you weren’t drinking.

“Uh huh and which part of that is hard to understand?” Jaehyun tilted his head at Hyuntae who scoffed in response.

“Chill, dude, I just offered to get her a drink,” he rolled his eyes, mumbling something nasty under his nose before disappearing back in the crowd of the living room, leaving the two of you and the smokers out on the balcony.

Your shoulders visibly relaxed but Jaehyun didn’t let go even then. The hand he had over your bare arm traced feather light patterns over the skin, soothing and caring. You could barely suppress a shiver and not from the cold.

“Are you okay? Do you wanna leave?” He looked at you in concern, his big brown puppy eyes warming your soul.

“What about Younha?” You muttered, thinking back on the last of what you saw of him, sitting in a circle among Intak and the others, the empty glass of beer landing on him.

“What would be with her?” Jaehyun frowned, looking genuinely confused and you weren’t about to spell it out for him, that it looked like the girl wanted a lot more from him than a chaste kiss in front of others as a dare. So you opted for phrasing it nicer.

“She seems to like you,” you shrugged like you didn’t care, like the sight of her heart eyes didn’t stab your heart with thousand thorns.

“She doesn’t even know me,” The boy dismissed your inquiry like it didn’t matter and it was terrible how triumphant you felt over something insignificant like that. But Jaehyun didn’t let you dwell on it too much, instead he grabbed your hand with his always warmer ones and pulled you towards the door. “Let’s go before you catch a cold.”

You didn’t argue, just said bye to your friends and let Jaehyun steer you out of the apartment, covering your shoulders with his denim jacket. It smelled like spring and sandalwood, like a safe place, but you resisted the urge to pull it tighter around yourself. You started walking three blocks down towards your place side by side and it somehow sent you off on the memory lane, wondering where it all began and where it changed.

You had been friends with Jaehyun pretty much since the first day of college. At least since your first Economics class where he happened to sit next to you in the lecture hall and asked whether you thought the professor looked like a dinosaur from Jurassic Park too. It had been history since. He was the fastest friend you ever made but it was impossible not to get swept up by the force that was Myung Jaehyun. His energy was unmatchable and he never failed to make your smile or at least feel comforted when you were down. Without him your dreaded college years would have been far less colorful and fun while he acted like you were the miracle in his life with homemade meals you brought him because you knew he tended to skip breakfast and for ‘putting up with his loud and clingy ass’ (his words) as if that was such a sacrifice. Really, you wouldn’t have had it any other way.

You got close quickly, never running out of topics, going to concerts and to the movies together, becoming each other’s support system. It was all good and platonic. You didn’t remember thinking of him as anything but a good friend, until lately it started to change. You couldn’t tell when though. Was it when he went on that date with that redhead from his Finance seminar? Or when he fell asleep on your shoulder during your Disney marathon and you noticed just how cute his squishy cheeks were? Or when you saw him help a kindergartener find his mom in the mall?

For the longest time it didn’t make sense and you felt bad because what kind of friend were you to be envious of his more exciting love life? Not that his dates led anywhere and he blamed it on not feeling the spark with any of the girls he went out with. So it was even more unreasonable and you started to wonder whether it was all in your head, just because college was ending soon and you already missed him and all the times you had together before becoming responsible and busy adults.

“And then Sohee was like… Hey, are you listening?” A soft nudge against your arm and you ducked your head, feeling embarrassed getting caught.

“Sorry, I’m a bit in my head tonight,” you mumbled and you wished you could blame it on the alcohol even though you didn’t have any. Jaehyun wasn’t angry at all though, not with the way his mouth pulled up into a smile and you could tell he wanted to cheer you up, probably because he felt guilty over dragging you to another party you weren’t exactly fancy of.

“Aww what’s on your pretty mind?” He cooed and patted your head gently, waking up those sleeping, traitorous butterflies in your stomach. But that was the thing, Jaehyun was like that with everybody: overly kind, touchy and affectionate.

“Nothing,” you shrugged, avoiding his eyes and biting into your lip. “Just… Ah, nothing.”

You gave up with a sigh, like a coward. After all, how could you tell him anything of what was going through your head without ruining your friendship?

“You’re so cute,” Myungjae commented with a boyish grin and poked your cheek to stop you from pouting before resuming his story about getting lost in one of the Han river parks with Sohee the other day.

Listening to him telling stories was always fun, so now that you focused on him, the rest of the walk went by quickly and you didn’t even feel the cold of night breeze until the warmth of his jacket washed through you as you stepped inside the building. You tapped your door card against the sensor and in your haste, you managed to stumble over the mess of shoes left in the tiny doorway courtesy of your roommate. You would have probably fallen very unlady-like if Jaehyun wasn’t there to steady you with a gentle hand on your waist.

“You good?” He asked, concerned and politely quiet, not sure if your roommate was back already or still out on this Friday night.

“Yeah, thanks,” you mumbled, turning towards him, fighting a shiver as his hand slid off you. Like this you noticed just how close he stood, his worried eyes boring into yours and his breath fanning over your cheek. Only then did you get a sniff of the soju in his breath which made you furrow your brows.

“Did you drink?” You blurted out, giving way to your confusion because usually he opted for beer instead of harder liquor since he was a lightweight.

“Ah, you know, the game,” he muttered with a shrug as if it should have explained it all.

It took you a moment however to put two and two together, to understand what it meant, that he had rather drown a shot than to kiss Younha like he was dared to. It shouldn’t have made you feel as relieved as it did, just how his closeness shouldn’t have accelerated your heartbeat so terribly but still enveloped in his denim piece, you suddenly felt hot.

“So you didn’t…” you trailed off, your gaze unconsciously falling to his lips before tearing them away.

“I didn’t,” he confirmed in a whisper without you having to finish the sentence, like he could read your mind. For the sake of your sanity, you wished he couldn’t.

The two of you stood there unmoving by the door for too long, so the motion sensor-based light flickered above and suddenly darkness washed over you. In the dimly lit hallway you could only make out Jaehyun’s lines and the moonlight reflecting in his doe eyes, then he moved so suddenly you could barely process what was happening before his plush lips landed on the corner of yours, chaste and sweet, so quick that it was over before you had a chance to close your eyes.

“Shit, sorry,” Jaehyun blurted out, voice panicky, immediately pulling away, his movement frantic enough to switch on the light again. “You are just so pretty and…”

“Do it again,” you cut his apology off in a breathless voice which left Jaehyun bewildered.

“Huh?”

This time, it was you who leaned in but the boy met you halfway. The kiss tasted like cherry coke and plum-flavored soju, like summer days full of laughter and the warmest hugs on autumn nights. Then his fingers were on your jaw, gently probing and you found yourself gripping at his plaid shirt, sighing against his sweet mouth when the back of your head hit the wall.

“Gosh, I like you so much,” he murmured against your lips with a smile which you couldn’t help but reciprocate. It wasn’t enough for Jaehyun though, not with the way he nuzzled into your neck, pressing his cold nose to your jawline when you didn’t reply. “Yah, say it back. Don’t leave me hanging.”

His dramatic whining made you chuckle and you realized that you liked it all: his closeness, his puppy eyes on you, his pout, his comfort, even him being so quick to pretend to be boyfriend to scare away random dudes at parties.

“I like you too,” you told him, heart fluttering in your chest at the way Jaehyun looked at you. Maybe things changing between you wasn’t that bad after all.

[randomyuu]

i keep the warmest truth.

Well you look at that. Another comic hahahaha why did I do this to myself—

But I do enjoy drawing this comic! It was a different kind of challenge, where this one focuses a lot on close-ups, so I need to learn about the subtlety of expressions. Can’t say I learn a lot (I use lots of copy-pasting of the same position lmao), but I still learn... something!

This beautiful one-shot fic is titled i keep the warmest truth by Dehawny. If I have to summarise the fic, it’s basically Ace!Gojou and Adorable!Yuuji. It's more like gray ace but better keep the “A” going, haha. And as usual, the fic is NSFW, so please do read the tags before you decide to give it a read.

Ace!Gojou is something I don’t know I need. I think I love almost every kind of Gojou headcanons, but Ace!Gojou holds a special place in my heart. I could be biased as someone in the ace spectrum, but the way Dehawny wrote Gojou and Yuuji’s interaction is truly heartwarming. And also a bit possessive, but I wouldn’t have it any other way. Possessive Gojou is my jam.

And Yuuji. Oh, dear lord where do I even start with this boy. I don’t have enough vocabularies to express how much I adore Yuuji. Him being his horny teen-self and constantly worrying about making the pleasure mutual is too much for my heart. And he’s still understanding of Gojou’s sexuality. Yuuji is kind, like that. Don’t mind me as I’m crying out happy tears in the corner.

Alrighty, below are my thoughts as I drew this, as usual haha:

After I got a taste with comic-making from my previous GoYuu comic, this one is a bit easier to plan once I narrowed down the scene I want to draw. I wanted the comic to start with Gojou positioning himself and Yuuji in the futon, bringing up Yuuji’s question weeks ago, but that means I have to draw 10+ pages and I was like, “haha nope”. I still love my hands, thank you very much. So I start with Yuuji’s reaction after Gojou explains a bit about his sexuality.

Panelling is still a struggle. In a way that I still feel that the layout can be improved, but I can’t for the life of me figured out what needs to be improved. I guess this kind of thing will come eventually, but not now.

During the sketching, I must say I got super hyped drawing Gojou’s eyes. That eye close-up? I really want to try making it as ethereal as possible in an achromatic setting. It’s intimidating, don’t get me wrong, but I have always loved drawing eyes since I was a kid and this is a fun thing to test my love for eyes.

If I have to complain… it would be the intimate position of them laying on the futon. I never really try drawing “couple-like” positions before, but it was really hard! Like, holy shit, can you guys stop being so awkward looking? Where the hell did I draw it wrong??? Thankfully references have helped me a lot with positioning.

The line art took sooo much time because I realise I want to make Gojou and Yuuji more… buff (kinda) so I need to re-sketch a bit :(( but the result is better than the previous one, so I’ll take what I can get haha. And I start to really like using screentones for shading—once I properly learn how to do manga layout, I think I might fall in love with drawing mangas!

But overall, this is a fun process to do, and I hope you enjoy the comic and this rambling of mine! :D

[caffeiiine]

merry christmas!

@manosoutaweek day2/4: childhood/gifts!!

The original version is really dark, i don’t know why i made it that dark actually. when i made it i had to take off the dark layer to see what colors i was using.

anyways there’s a lighter version!

also little details that aren’t immediately obvious because i love explaining myself:

Horace got Simeon an Onyankopon doll, and Simeon got Horace his [first] chess set in the orphanage. Prior they just played on whatever they could find.

The sweater Simeon is wearing is also Onyankopon merch

meanwhile, Horace’s shirt is based off this shirt by OMOCAT

Thing is i drew the shirt before i pulled up the ref so the words are below the picture rather than above

the wrapping paper is also onyankopon themed, Horace made it too

Also horace is wearing shorts purely because i am a firm believer that in the winter he’d be that one kid to wear Tshirts/Shorts like he wasn’t cold. Simeon is normal.

Monkey the monkey being a plush is obvious, but the dog plush was an idea form my friend @/kijimha <3 so ty to him for that detail

also!! both pieces being white do have significance :3 since k love explaining myself: Both pieces being white [as/w purity, goodness, innocence] is a reference to Horace’s perception of Simeon. I only draw both pieces being white in childhood scenes, when they’re older it’s the king that’s black and the knight that’s white. I’m a firm believer that Horace knew something was up and it did taint his perception of Simeon, [black king], nonetheless he’ll still be his white knight regardless. so in short, the last he had a truly untainted perception of Simeon was in childhood!

[ssspork]

Some Fanart for https://archiveofourown.org/works/61679998 (which is so awesome sauce go read it) @kenshin1340 (not to sure how to tag people tbh but idk how else u would find this😭)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/61679998

There’s some symbolism which I will explain down below, and perchance a rant about how I adore how Lux is written and the idea of freedom that this fic is exploring

Also the speed paint with the song

ANYWAYS, symbolism time!!

this piece was inspired by Eleanor Rigby, so the “church” Lux is buried in is the lecture room, bc this is Luxs place of sanctuary. Her freedom, though “nobody came” bc she feels so isolated from others, following things she doesn’t particularly like bc she knows she’ll never get that in the future. We see this in the party scene where she wins, but her smile doesn’t reach her eyes. She feels alone.

Than herself, she’s yellow, a color of happiness and freedom and light, like her name itself, but ironically, she is trapped, as is why her dress is so tight. She lays under a spotlight, the same way her family always has its eyes in her. And a incomplete halo of sorts of blood, she is so close to being free, but she can’t nor will be. The blood comes from what I had assumed to be a blunt force trauma injury, but I’m starting to believe it was a contraption and not a injury that left the scar.

Silco is the priest, alone as well, like Lux, he appears to be some sort of parallel (he was what she is) he sees her injury, as is shown with the red eye, and (most likely) sees it in himself(This is a prediction). He is difficult to see, blending into the background as unable to help. As for Lux to be free, she must figure out who will be free first, and allow herself TO be free (see rant).

Than Luxs name is wiped away, and Luxanna written in top. This is because “Lux” is the free version of “Luxanna” and Lux will die if she goes back, as with Pascal, who is also being wiped away. (Pascal would have worked better with the metaphor, however, having a variation of her name being wiped away and her full name ontop works better thematically)

And than Jinx’s signature at the bottom left, a reference to when she drew Lux in the first place. She’s drawing this because, like her father, she is observant (the both of them noticed her scar). Also, this was an accident, but to make a metaphor of it, her name is written like Roman numerals, similar to how VI’s name is. Which could be used as a sorta parallel between Garen and Vi (in some way?? I feel like Vi and Garen are going to be foils or parallels in some capacity)

Anyways, rant time:

The way this fic has handled the idea of freedom is AMAZING. Usually in Lux fics, Lux can’t be free due to external forces, which sometimes have become internal, and to fix the internal, she must fix the external. But here, the external forces are gone, she’s the one who controls her freedom. And despite having freedom, she truly, has none. Because freedom with a end is not freedom.

So to make up for the fact she will no longer have freedom, she does stuff to try to make up for it: for example, the tree fairy costume I don’t remember exactly what it was called (also like drinking and smoking weed). Stuff she knows she won’t be able to do later. But the thing is, she doesn’t like this stuff, in trying to be free, she’s trapped herself. And now she’s trapped in 2 ways, of her attempts to be free, and what’s been instilled inside her.

We see she never truly lets her guard drop (other than 1 time, but that was when she was with Jinx), she always has a set smile for everything, everything is planned out. Just as how she sees her life. Because of this, she can’t let herself be free, because she doesn’t even really know who SHE is. There’s Luxanna, her parents child. There’s Pascal, the free, but her name ISNT Pascal, it’s Lux(Luxanna as well). Pascal is free, but she isn’t really Pascal. She’s Lux, and Lux needs to be free. But who IS Lux?

And WOULDNT YOU KNOW IT?? that’s what Silcos speech WAS ABOUT. It was about how his class with allow his students to find themselves. AUGH ITS SO GOOD. And the fact that Luxs guard WENT DOWN when around Jinx, if just for a second, if just for a accident, and Jinx CAN AND DOES SEE IT. Oh my golly gee I love it when you can see the arc, this is so good,

[tsukiyadori]

About the Title "Kemutai Hanashi"

Author Hayashi Fumiya tweeted a link to their pixivFanbox this week, which I have also only now read, despite it having already been up since 2022:

It's about the Title. Everyone can become like Takeda and Arita and everyone can become somebody who'd treat them like 'smoke'. And that is both a right, but also wrong at the same time. It's an article about this subject. It has been completely set to public access, so anyone can read it. [Smoke] Just who is 'smoky'? | Hayashi Fumiya | pixivFanbox

I decided to translate it, as the article is quite insightful for this title, which is, by all means, rather hard to properly translate:

煙たい kemutai means literally 'smoky'. There is something or someone smoky, it stings your nose, throat and eyes, making it hard to breathe and you suffer. Figuratively it describes something awkward, uncomfortable, that makes you feel constrained, crammy, reserved, hesitating while also wanting to keep it at a distance, at an arm's length away, be that out of polite respectful distancing or simply because it's not pleasant to deal with. (Just like smoke.)

話 hanashi can mean story, conversation, or more abstractly a theme, subject, topic, thing.

煙たがる kemutagaru literally means "wanting to make into smoke". It describes being sensitive to smoke or figuratively to dislike the company of someone or considering them a burden, a nuisance, troublesome. So to keep the metaphor it's like they treat them like smoke.

For the article's translation below, I will for the most part use the literal translation of 'smoke' or "smoky" for kemutai, as to not disturb the author's thoughts with my own interpretation.

[Smoke] Just Who is 'Smoky'?

Posted November 7th, 2022 07:45

Occasionally I get questions about the meaning of the title, but I notice I haven't really talked about it. I think chapter 12 delves somewhat onto its core, so I thought now might be a good time to touch upon it.

The title "Kemutai Hanashi" is the title the first installment of the doujin version holds. Basically, its meaning hasn't changed since.

Kemutai Hanashi #1: [Original Work] Kemutai Hanashi I collected the story about the two, that I windingly posted on twitter here. I was hesitating about borrowing the tag, but whether the two have this sort of relationship or not is not an issue of this story. So I would be very happy if you could let it not concern you and read it with a broad heart! 2019.6.30 ps: I was brooding over it, but because the idea of that the feelings of the two are apart from a romantic relationship has solidified, I decided to remove the BL tag from this series.

(Note: This first doujin installment broadly corresponds to volume 3, or in direct scene correlations to chapter 13 and 17, with the chapters in between being new and expanding on it.)

To begin with, this story was not a story about how the relationship between the two is outside the realm of being common and how they kind of can't explain it. It's about Arita who broods over how Takeda's surroundings don't understand him. On the side there is the setting about how their relationship is a sort of not knowing what it is, but the main theme is about 'What is true kindness?'.

At the time, my personal underlying motive for drawing this was because I thought if I talked to somebody about it, they'd think of me as annoying, so I made a manga out of it. If Takeda really existed, likely there would be people just like in the story who would make fun of Takeda's kindness and not understand him. I might be one of them. From the perspective of those people, it might already be bothersome to just listening to anyone trying to defend Takeda. In a way, it is a story, that blames people for not understanding. That's why I decided on the title 'Kemutai Hanashi', which is entwined with the smoking inside this story.

I think I decided on the title as the series title after I already drew several installments of the doujin, but this theme permeates through all of them, because I thought people would think of me as bothersome if I talked about it. It was like a declaration, to be "talking about something bothersome!". If I were asked who was talking about 'smoky' things, the answer would be Takeda and Arita. That's why, at the end of the published version's chapter 1, Takeda says that their life would be a "smoky" thing to the eyes of other people.

One might consider the people of the series, who do not understand Takeda and Arita, or are sensitive to them as if they are smoke, as "terrible people". But not understanding or being indifferent to other people is, if you changed perspectives, something everyone does. Everyone may not understand somebody and consider them to be troublesome. Due to the structure of the story and having Takeda and Arita as protagonists, it's easy to be supportive of them, but everyone can become Takeda and Arita, while they also can become people who treat them like smoke.

I think it's inevitable, that people wind up being indifferent to other people. There is a limit to understanding, and I think you also need to protect yourself. If you were to empathize with everyone and everything that happens, your body won't last. If you blame yourself for not understanding, your heart won't last. That's why I think that, as one option of many, becoming indifferent is not something to be reproached for. However, I'd like for people to be self-aware about the likelihood that you may be indifferent to somebody. I'd like people to not forget, that it might be, that you are treating someone really badly. I chose the title with this sort of self-admonishment behind it.

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(TL time ~90min)