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monzabee · 1 year

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girl crush – dr3

masterlist || part 2 ||

Summary: The one where both you and Daniel meet your celebrity crushes in the course of a weekend, and decide to give it a go.

Pairing: daniel ricciardo x actress!reader

Word Count: 4522

Warnings: fluff, shy daniel, shy reader, max being a menace (we love you max), awkwardness, 2023 australian gp, oscars (i love you Jamie Lee Curtis, you rock), slight age gap? (the reader is around the same age as Max)

Request: this is a long one besties, but you can read the request here! + “Hello! Can I please request nepo!reader who's an actress and maybe has an oscar or something? Maybe with Lewis or Daniel”

Author’s Note: hi, hey, hello!! this title changed so many times i lost track, but at the end, i went with the song – mainly because harry styles. i don’t know what’s wrong with me but this was very hard to write because i had BIG plans for it, so i’m sorry it took a while for me to finish it. also, i listened to a lot of la la land for some reason, so here you go. i hope i did it justice, and this was definitely very fun to write and i had a great time writing it, so thank you, to the anons, for the request, i hope you guys enjoy! good morning, noon or night wherever you are, xoxobee

Please also note that all of my works are protected under copyright, and not available for reposting on other platforms.

Growing up with parents who were obsessed with Formula One had finally taken its toll on you, you decide as you walk towards the Red Bull Hospitality. Your father’s sudden retirement from acting, combined with your mother’s stubborn personality is the reason why you suddenly find yourself at the 2023 Australian Grand Prix. You don’t really know why they didn’t wait for the one in Miami, or perhaps Las Vegas, since their primary residence is in the US, but you had no choice but to join them when they pulled out the ‘We’re getting old’ card. So there you are, after 15 hours of flying over the Pacific Ocean, in Melbourne and ready to enjoy the racing weekend. Or so you think – because you spend the entirety of Friday catching up on lost sleep while cursing every single time your parents decide to call you to let you know how much of a great time they’re having.

In the end, you get ready Saturday morning, to get breakfast with your parents before leaving for Albert Park. Just as you’re about to leave your room, your eyes fall on a familiar hat, adorned with a certain number, and you put it on your head without giving it a second thought. Your parents don’t comment on your choice of merchandise even if they find it odd, which is good, you think, because you don’t particularly want to hear your father tease you over your “teenage crush”. The whole paddock is buzzing by the time you get there, and you immediately feel guilty because you missed the practice sessions the previous day. You quickly lose your parents to the crowd around you, too busy looking at the action around you, when you hear your name being called from somewhere. You look around trying to find the source of the voice, when you find a familiar face which makes you smile.

“Oh my god, what are you doing here?” You ask, quickly pulling Samira for a hug, who in return points to the camera.

“Weekend job, babe.” She laughs. “I’ve interviewed your father just a couple of minutes ago, actually.”

“Oh no,” You laugh and shake your head. “Did he tell you about his petunias?” “He did, indeed.” Samira nods and hands you one of the microphones in her hand. “Are you up for a quick interview?” She asks you as she gives you an innocent smile.

You nod while letting out a chuckle. “Well, someone has to save your viewers from my father’s garden talk, so why not?”

“Thank you, thank you, thank you.” Samira tells you, her words coming of a bit slurred because of the way she talks too fast. She then turns to the camera after making sure that your mic is working. “Welcome back to the second day of the Australian Grand Prix, I’m here with Y/N Y/LN, whose father we just spoke to; Y/N, is this a family day out, or what?”

“This is definitely a family day out, Samira.” You laugh, nodding to strengthen your point. “Not a very usual one, we usually prefer to stay a bit more local for the weekend outings, but you never know where we’ll be next, I guess.”

“By ‘local’, do you mean the Oscars, perhaps? I mean, can we talk about your win for a moment? How does it feel to be the receiver of the award for the Actress in a Supporting Role?”

You take a deep breath as you feel your smile widen, as you can’t even try to hide your happiness. “It feels amazing, let me tell you. It was an amazing opportunity and I can’t thank enough to the lovely director and everyone who made the movie possible.” Samira nods with a satisfied look on her face as you answer. “Congratulations once again for your win. I have to ask, big Red Bull fan?” She asks you in a teasing voice.

“What?” You asked, confused. Only to realise the hat sitting on your head when she points to it with a silent chuckle. You let out a laugh while instinctively touching the hat on your head. “Oh god, you could say so, I guess; yeah.”

“I mean, I have to comment on the obvious part here.” She points to the hat while shooting the camera a look. “Number 3? You do realise the changes in the grid, don’t you?”

You laugh at her teasing voice, shrugging and smiling with an innocent look. “What can I say, I like to avoid the reality and live in my delusions.” After a few more teasing from Samira, you explain with a laugh, “No jokes, though, I honestly hope Daniel Ricciardo returns to Red Bull somehow because I don’t know how I’ll cope without him for another season.”

“A big Danny Ric fan, then, I presume?” Samira asks, pointedly.

“Oh yeah, been for a while now.”

After you’re done with your interview and bid adieu to Samira, who thanks you a dozen times more, you find your parents at the Red Bull hospitality, speaking with none other than Christian Horner himself, accompanied by Max. It’s a slightly awkward transition when you join their conversation, but it passes quickly. It doesn’t take long for your parents to be involved with their own conversation with the team principle, and for you and Max to speak amongst yourselves. Although you ask him every single question that comes to your mind about racing, whether it makes sense or not, and he answers each of them without discouraging you.

He pulls a funny face when he realises your choice of merch, pointing to your hat with a mischievous smile on his face. “Interesting choice, I would have gone with Checo.”

You roll your eyes and huff, taking your hat in the process. “You’re just jealous because it’s not your number, Max.”

“You wanna try that again?” Max raises his eyebrows.

“So what if I’m wearing his number?” You ask, arms crossed over your chest. “He’s a very good driver.”

“Who is not driving this seaso– Ow! Stop it!” Max exclaims as you hit his arm repeatedly in an attempt to stop him talking. “I hope you’re just as charming when you meet him.”

You pull a face while asking, “What do you mean ‘when I meet him’?”

He gives you an unamused look. “You’re either a very good actress, or you are very bad at checking your social media.” His eyes widen when you match his look, which tells him everything he needs to know. “You know he’s around, right? He’s shooting promo stuff, I think.”

“What do you mean he’s around?” You shriek in an attempt to hide your hat, as if Daniel is actually around to see it.

“Yeah, wait, let me call him.” He takes out his phone and quickly dials him before you have the opportunity to tell him not to do that, but he quickly shoves his phone back into his pocket when he spots someone familiar over your shoulder and waves them over.

Your eyes widen as you hiss, “You’re the worst, you know that?”

He winks at you a playfully in return, “Don’t forget to invite me to your wedding.” Then, he shakes the hand of the driver, who finally makes his way to both of you, and pulls him into what you can only describe as a ‘bro hug’. “Hello, man.”

“Hello, mate.” Daniel greets him back. His eyes widen in recognition when he catches your eyes over Max’s shoulder, and he side-steps to shake your hand with excitement, which only makes you clutch the hat closer to your chest. “Hello, you’re Y/N Y/LN. Oh my god, I’m a big fan!”

“M-me too!” You manage to get out, and then quickly add, “A big fan of you, not myself. That would be very egotistical of me.” You inhale a sharp breath as you ignore the look Max gives you, and close your eyes for a moment before opening them again. “Please ignore that, I think the jet lag is finally catching up with my brain.”

“Sure, we’ll call it the jet lag.” Max mumbles, which earns him a hit with your elbow in his ribs. “Ow!”

“I’m this close to switching teams and supporting Mercedes instead.” You lift your hand to show the minimal space you’ve left between your thumb and pointer-finger.

“I think I should take over, here before you drive her away, Max.” He jokingly shakes his hand in a motion to make him go away, and then turns you with a warm smile as Max leaves the two of you to join some of the engineers nearby. “Now, should we get you a Red Bull?”

Talking to Daniel is very easy, you realise quickly. Once you (both) get over your shyness, the conversation just flows in a way you’re not used to. He, too, answers any questions you might have like Max did, but the look in his eyes are different when you show interest in something he’s particularly passionate about. He asks you about receiving your first Oscar, and you ask him about how his wine business is going – which ends up with him promising to send a few bottles over so that you can give it your stamp of approval; you both decide that your review is going be on the back of the bottles.

“But doesn’t it get into your eyes when you’re spraying it?” You ask him, trying to comprehend how the champagne they spray doesn’t go everywhere. “And doesn’t it burn? It has alcohol, and… bubbles.”

“You might be onto something here.” He mumbles in thought, thinking whether the champagne burned his eyes or not. “Occupational hazard?” He asks in an uncertain voice, hoping it satisfies your question as an answer.

“Oh, right.” You nod, taking another sip from the can he got you. “It’s crazy, you’ve won like what? 8 races? That’s crazy, you’re crazy.” The way you keep saying whatever comes to your mind makes Daniel smile as the energy you’re feeling taking over your body for the time being. “Wow, I’ve never felt like this, is this what energy drinks do to you?”

“Probably why you shouldn’t drink too much.” He agrees.

“Sorry.” You smile apologetically, suddenly very aware of the fact that you are, in fact, rattling nonsense in front of your biggest celebrity crush. “You must think I’m crazy, and I shouldn’t be holding you back. I’m sure you have better things to do.”

Daniel is panicking inside when you start to get up, his mind scrambling up words to find a way to make you stay – he feels like a kid who’s asking his parents to let him play for a little longer. It’s not that he is not a social person, he is, but the conversation the two of you share is one of the most meaningful ones to him, even though you’re not actually talking about anything that deep. But he realises there is no pretences with you, no expectations, nothing to hide. He enjoys the way you speak what’s on your mind, whether it might be complimentary or the opposite, but he enjoys how you present your opinion and why you have it. He knows he’s extremely starstruck at that very moment, god knows he’s met enough famous people to know what it feels like, but it’s the kind of starstruck that makes him want to be not shy about it. He wants to keep talking to you for as long as you can tolerate him, because in his mind, he might be the one who is butchering the whole conversation up just by shutting up and succumbing to his shyness. He’s hyperaware of the fact that he has held himself back over the past hour, just because he was thinking about the fact that your hair is looking very shiny under the Australian sun and it is his number on your hat. It’s not something the two of you talked about, yet, but when he realises that it is his number on it, there is this inexplicable pride surging over him.

So, with his entire courage, he says, “Stay.” He clears his throat to buy himself some time to think of something else to say. “I mean, I don’t have anything else I need to do, and it’s very nice to talk to you. So, you know, if you want to, we could maybe, I don’t know, continue to talk?”

“Oh.” You let out a breath, eyes wide with excitement (and a little bit of apprehension), but despite all the nervousness you’re feeling, you find yourself back in your seat, and mumbling. “Of course, it’s very nice to speak with you too.”

And so you find yourself immersed in another conversation with the Aussie seated across from you. He is open about the past year – which as a fan you’re dying to know what happened, but don’t want to question him because he is only human after all. But for some reason, it comes naturally to talk about his pseudo-retirement with you. He tells you about his plans for the year, and how he hopes to get back to a seat by the start of the next season. In return, you tell him about the time how you almost stopped acting, but the last project you gave a change brought you an Oscar. It’s a much deeper conversation than before, but somehow you find yourself talking without feeling nervous to do so – without any second thoughts.

“I, uh, I like your hat.” He smiles nervously, pointing to the discarded hat on your lap.

You laugh nervously as your fingers occupy themselves with the visor of the cap. “Thanks, it’s my favourite.”

“Yeah?” The question that leaves his mouth is so soft that you think you would miss it if your eyes weren’t so focused on him.

“Oh, yeah.” You assure him with a little shrug. “Much better than orange, let me tell you, I look hideous in orange.”

A large smile finds its way onto your lips when he lets out a hearty laugh, shaking his head. “I somehow find it impossible to believe.”

“If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’re flirting with me, Daniel.” You tease, causing him to smirk back at you. He doesn’t answer you, but instead looks at you with a very particular look which confirms what you’ve just said. Your small stare-down is sadly broken apart by Max, who calls out Daniel’s name to let him know that Christian is looking for him.

There is a sad look in his eyes when he realises that he has to go for real this time, but you give him a sad smile as you let him know you’ll be watching the screens for him during the quali. As you feel the wind breezing around you, you instinctively wrap your arms around your middle to get rid of the shiver the colder air provides. A look of recognition passes through Daniel’s face as he asks, “Are you cold?”

“A little, but it’s oka–”

“I’ll be right back.” Daniel announces as he leaves you and Max, causing the latter to turn to you with his phone in his hand. Max lets out a deep sigh, mumbling something under his breath in a language you don’t recognise, most likely Dutch.

“What are you doing?” You ask him, head tilted to the side to try and see what he’s looking at on his phone. He turns it to you after a while, apparently finding what he was looking for. “What’s that?” You ask, pointing to the phone which displays a paused video of Daniel sitting in a chair.

“He’ll probably kill me once he realises I’ve made you watch this, but the way the two of you looking at each other like lovesick puppies is making me nauseous.” He points to the phone with his head. “Play it.”

You give him a sceptical look, but do as he says and press the little triangle in the middle of the screen. The interview starts to play, and Daniel is talking about racing and the ongoing season. You let the video play for a while before looking up at Max again, more confused. “What am I supposed to see?”

“For fuck’s sake.” Max groans, taking his phone out of your hand and fast-forwarding the video to find what he’s looking for. “Here.”

You press play on the video once again, but this time it starts with the interviewer asking Daniel about his celebrity crush. While he’s thinking about his answer in the video, you throw an unamused look at Max, who urges you to direct your attention back to the video. Just as you move your eyes back onto the screen, his answer echoes through the phone speakers which makes your eyes widen. “What?” You ask Max as you scramble to play back the section of the interview.

“So, any celebrity crushes we should be keeping our eyes out for?” The interviewer asks, out of frame.

There is a thoughtful look on his face as he thinks about his answer and once he decides, there is a smile breaking on his face. “I mean, probably Y/N Y/LN. I’ve watched everything she’s in, probably multiple times, she’s just so talented.”

You watch that particular part of the video back a couple of times before Max takes his phone out of your hands with a look asking if you’re okay. “When was this?”

“I don’t know,” He shrugs. “A couple of years back, but I don’t think his answer has changed over the years.”

You blink a couple of times, trying to digest the fact that your celebrity crush also named you as his celebrity crush. “Oh, wow.”

Daniel returns a few moments later with a hoodie in his hands. He smiles at you warmly as he hands it to you. “Here, that should help.”

“Oh, Daniel, you didn’t have to.” You breath out, taking the hoodie out of his hand and putting it on with his help when he gives you a look that says he won’t accept it back. After you fix the oversized hoodie on you, you turn to him with a smile as you also put on the hat on your head.

The smile he gives you in return when he sees you in his number and merch fills your stomach with butterflies, and Max must be feeling weird about being a part of the scene because he lets Daniel know that he’ll wait at the garage. As Max leaves, Daniel turns back at you with a sad smile on his face. “I really don’t wanna leave, but–”

“You have a job to do, Daniel.” You smile with an understanding, putting an encouraging hand on his forearm. “Although I would love to keep you to myself, I’m sure there are fans out in the world who would love to see you back as much as I do.”

He lets out a small groan. “Please tell me you’ll be here tomorrow as well.”

“Well, I came all this way to watch the race too, so I’ll probably be around.” You tease him.

“So I’ll see you tomorrow?” He asks you in a hopeful voice.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” You affirm.

After a final look, both of start walking in different directions. And just as you’re about to leave the hospitality, you hear him call out your name. When you turn to look at him over your shoulder you hear him yell, “My number looks good on you.”

In retrospect, you wanted to arrive earlier to find a certain driver, but you couldn’t sleep last night because you couldn’t stop thinking about the day’s events. So when you wake up later than your alarm Sunday morning, you rush to get ready to leave your hotel room. By the time you arrive at Albert Park, it’s almost noon. You’re not late to see the race, there is still couple of hours until the big event, but your eyes look around the chaotic hospitality to spot Daniel. You can see a few familiar faces, some engineers you met yesterday and the drivers talking to some crew members near the garage, but there is a small frown on your face as you keep looking for the Australian driver. You’re about to give up when, suddenly, you feel someone grabbing your arm – which makes you jump back with a shriek.

“You scared me!” You exclaim, looking at the stranger who, thankfully, lets go of your arm after your outburst. “Sorry, can I help you?”

“Sorry! I thought you were lost and looking for your boyfriend.” They respond, pointing towards the garages. “I saw him enter a few minutes ago.”

“I don’t have a–” You start the say, but the person is already starting to walk away to the opposite direction. “Boyfriend.” You sigh, deciding to take the advice and see if Daniel might be at the garage after all.

If you thought there was a chaos outside the garage, you’re greatly wrong, because the only word you can use to describe the Red Bull garage is chaotic. There are crew members everywhere, trying to get the cars ready for the upcoming race. So, you do your best to slip through them without disturbing their work. Some of the members you met yesterday greet you, which makes you smile as you greet them back. You catch a familiar set of eyes, which lose the boredom in them and widen with recognition once they meet yours and he starts walking towards you.

He's beaming by the time he reaches you, as he exclaims, “You’re here!”

“Hi!” You greet him and then pull him for a quick hug.

“I’m glad you made it, Y/N.” He smiles down at you, without letting you go, and then gestures around the garage. “Have you looked around?”

You nod, matching his smile as you look up at him, “A little bit when I came in, it’s crazy out there today?”

He lets out an affirmative voice. “It’s always like that during a race day. Where are you watching the race from?”

“The Paddock Club, I think?” You answer him with a small frown. “We watched the quali from there yesterday.”

He pulls away from you slowly, and begrudgingly, holding your hand and starts to pull you away from the entrance. “I have a better idea.” He walks you towards the front of the garage, stopping right in front of the barriers and asking a crew member for a headset.

There is a playful smile on his face when he turns to you with them in his hands, which makes your eyes widen with concern. “Are you sure it’s okay for me to be here?”

He waves his hand, passing the headset to you as he assures, “Of course, it’s the best seat in the house. Plus, it’ll be easier for us to find each other.”

“You’ve thought this through, haven’t you?” You ask him as you do your best to narrow your eyes.

“Absolutely, yes.” He nods with excitement. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but you’re kind of my celebrity crush.”

You giggle in response. “Oh, I know. Max made me watch a video.”

“He– what?”

“It was a lovely compliment.” You assure him, patting his arm with a sympathetic smile.

“I’m going to kill–” He begins to say, but one of the engineers call out his name, telling him that they need him before the race. He turns to you with a groan, jumping over the barriers instead of going through the door, which makes you chuckle, and points to you while walking backwards. “We have to talk about this.”

“We will.” You assure him. Just as you watch him walk by, you call out, “Daniel!”

“Yeah?” He calls back at you.

“You’re my celebrity crush, too.”

Instead of answering he winks at you over his shoulder, which makes you giggle. You’re sure that you’re also blushing, but decide not to think about it too much and focus on the race which is starting. You’re on the edge of your seat the entire time, from the start to the second restart to the end. The people around you are not much different, everybody holding their breaths every time one of the cars make a sharp turn. You let out an occasional gasp, or wince throughout the entire race, your hands covering your shocked expression. But, at the end, you’re happy to see that Max is P1 and Checo managed to finish the race in P5. Everyone around you seems to be sharing your opinions, since they are celebrating the good results when you take off your headset.

Daniel finds you eventually, after speaking with some of the engineers and pit crew, and there is a huge smile on his face as he asks, “So, how’d you like it?”

“Are you kidding me? It was insane!” You exclaim, using your hands to relay your point. “Eight cars, Daniel, eight cars! That’s crazy!”

“I get you’ve liked it?” He asks, his eyebrows raising.

You let out a scoff while shaking your head. “Of course I liked it!”

“I’m glad you liked it, Y/N.” He smiles, “So, I’m your celebrity crush, huh?”

“Oh please, you already knew it!” You roll your eyes at his smug expression. “I’m wearing your number, aren’t I?”

He shrugs, letting his hands occupy themselves with the end of the hoodie you’re wearing. “And it looks good on you.” He tilts his head to get a better look at your eyes as he asks, “You’re wearing it again today? Isn’t it some sort of fashion crime in Hollywood?”

“Well, I’ve never fit in much anyway.” You shrug, letting a smirk break at your lips. “It might just become my favourite item of clothing, just so you know.”

“Yeah? I’m happy to hear that.”

“You should be, I’m very particular about my hoodies.”

He smiles at your comment, but his smile doesn’t reach his eyes for some reason. “When is your flight back?”

“Tuesday.” You answer him, suddenly very aware of the fact that you don’t have much time left in Melbourne at all. “But I can be convinced to stay for longer.”

His eyes widen with surprise, excitement taking over the sad look in record time. “You can? Really?” You nod your head, which makes him pull you closer to him with the hand still holding your hoodie. “Let me take you out on a date.” His eyes seem to beg.

You nod your head once again, tilting your head backwards to keep your gaze locked to his. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

“Yes? Are you sure? It’s the point of no return.” There is a playful tone to his voice.

You roll your eyes, taking off your cap and placing it onto his head. “I’m sure I’ll be fine, ‘honey badger’.” You tease. “Who knows? You might just convince me to say a while longer.”

“Yeah, I’d like that, too.” He echoes your words from earlier.

#monzabee #requests open #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 smut #formula 1 #fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #daniel ricciardo #daniel ricciardo x reader #daniel ricciardo imagine #imagine #fluff #angst #smut #daniel ricciardo smut #daniel ricciardo fluff

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madamechrissy · 2 months

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But it's Better if you Do

ৎ୭ Pairings ৎ୭ Nanami Kento x Fem Reader

ৎ୭ Warnings ৎ୭ MDNI- Fingering, teasing, cumming

ৎ୭ Word Count ৎ୭ 5,027

ৎ୭ Summary ৎ୭ Every weekday for a year, Nanami Kento comes into the coffee shop you work at, and he orders the same damn thing. You have it bad but are too nervous to do more than doodle on his cups. You have a double life, because you're also 'Foxy' a featured dancer at a strip club once a week. A bachelor party for Satoru Gojo has you dancing, and he's there. Nanami fucking Kento. You end up both in a VIP room, awkward, nervous, but then... it's your chance. He doesn't know it's you, right? What harm can a lap dance do? Surely won't be awkward the next day...

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

It's a humid summer night in Tokyo, and you have your big bluetooth speakers on one of the bustling streets, starting one of your sets, Nobara is videoing you and Yuji is your hype man, as always. There is a crowd that gathered, bigger than it was last week you notice nervously, as you feel the music move through you, pulsing through your veins, one of your favorite feelings.

Nanami’s lips were now also your favorite.

Shit.

Would he show? You nervously peer around, and start to do a piruohette, spinning several times before spreading your arms wide, starting to do the hip hop routine you’d been working on. The music is loud japanese rap, and everyone around you starts getting excited as you move in sync to every beat, carefully coordinated in parts, free in others.

Nobara is bending low to get the perfect shot as your limbs are flowing like water as you weave between pedestrians and neon-lit storefronts, starting to dance and walk forward a bit, Nobara peeks behind her, then steps back further, and Yuji is pumping his fist. You feel alive, free, like you're in rhythm with the city, with the people who all were pulling their phones out, smiling.

As you spin and sway, starting a new song, Yuji takes the camera, and you feel a pair of eyes on you, intense and unyielding. You glance up, and there he is, Nanami Kento. Your heart skips a beat as you see the way he's watching you, the way his gaze travels over your body, lingering on your hips, your arms, your face.

You pause for a moment, taking him in, feeling suddenly shy out of nowhere, though you had just been dancing for the city and had no worries, he alone could make you feel flustered. Happy from his presence. Nobara gives you a smile, and it gives you encouragement, you take a breath and give Nanami a little wave, which he returns, hands in his pockets, smiling at you slightly.

You feel a blush creep up your neck as you continue to dance, your movements becoming more confident, more daring, with Nobara, Yuji and the entire crowd cheering you on. The crowd around you grows thicker, more animated. People are cheering, clapping along to the music, even laughing. You catch yourself smiling back at them, feeling their energy.

It's like being part of something bigger than yourself, so much different than the club, you can be completely comfortable. As you finish your dance, you feel your heart racing, your limbs tingling, as sprinkles of rain start to fall, you peek at Nanami again, just a few feet away, his eyes fixed on you, dressed more casual, in a dress shirt and slacks.

You can't help but smile back at him, feeling a rush of adrenaline course through your veins when you finish, and the crowd begins to disperse, several people coming up to you, many you see all the time. You even take pictures with some people that watch your silly Tik Toks of dancing. It’s raining now, but a light mist, and you gather your things into your duffel bag, gesturing to Nanami to come over.

Nobara looks at him, then you, and gets a devious look on her soft, pretty little face. “Oh, Nanami, did you like it?”

He clears his throat, nodding, a little shy. You notice an umbrella dangling from his hand, then, something you had forgotten. “I very much enjoyed it, I am glad I could see your work.”

“Oh, not work.” You nervously look down, but Nobara comes up to you, hand on your back.

“She is amazing. Her body… it moves so good don’t you think?” You and Nanami both turn red, and Yuji and Nobara snicker.

“Very good.” He says, a little gruff.

“Thanks, you all.”

“I’d like to talk a bit if you don’t mind?” Nanami turns to you, asking you, having to say your name twice for you to register.

“He wants to talk to you, punk.” Yuji shrugs at you with his shoulder, you clear your throat, smiling.

“Oh. Yeah. We can!”

“We’ll head home. Call us if you need us?” Nobara kisses your cheek, and you return it, smiling.

Yuji tries to kiss your cheek and you smack him, making the three of you laugh, as Nanami just smirked, studying you all curiously. “She’s mean, Nanami, good luck with this one.”

“She is not, you’re just annoying.” Nobara shoves him, pushing him away from the two of you, waving.

“Ahem… Hi.” You manage to say when you all are alone, the rain starting to mist over you both now, you grab your bag to you, looking up at him, tall and fucking handsome as fuck. And here. Wanting to talk to you.

“Hi.” He smiles a bit, and you both stand there, your arms behind your back, his in front of him, shy, nervous. “You were great.”

“Thanks so much. It really meant a lot to me, you taking time to come out.” You tuck your hair behind your ear, and shift side to side, he seems to notice, smiling.

“Of course. You are not ‘lame’ or whatever you said. You’ve got real talent. I bet you have a good following.”

“It’s growing for sure! One day, I want to get into this school… it’s like to hone your skills, crazy expensive… so I have all these side hustles. I… hey, talk to me about you, I’m rambling.”

You and Nanami Kento are left standing in the middle of a now-empty sidewalk. The rain has picked up, but you hardly notice it as your heart is racing, your palms sweaty, but you force yourself to meet his gaze, attentive, and he just is smiling down at you, rain dripping on his hair in little glistening droplets.

“Well, I work a lot. A lot.”

“I knew that business man. Accounting?”

“Yeah and advertisement, finances, lots of things. I like to… read? And watch movies. I’m not so exciting.”

“What, I love to read! And movies! What kind of movies? What kind of books? I love scary movies…” He’s just studying you. You lick your lips nervously. “Am I like talking too much? I do that when I’m nervous… oh shit, it’s coming down!”

“You don’t talk too much. Yes, it is, here.” He goes to open the umbrella, as the skies open and start to downpour, and you’re getting soaked, he’s cursing as the umbrella is stuck, and you start laughing, wildly as the rain fell, cold on your skin, as he struggled with the button. “Shit, hang on.”

“Mmm, it’s fine. It’s like a romcom, right? Stuck in the rain.” You smile, swirling in circles and shutting your eyes, letting the rain hit you. It’s oddly fucking amazing, refreshing even after the dancing, but soon it’s lightning, a flash, you see behind your eyelids, and the rain stops hitting you.

“Fuck, you okay? I’m so sorry.” Nanami has the umbrella over you now, pulling you close, and you feel hot against him, nodding.

“I probably seem weird. I love the rain.”

“You’ll catch a damn cold, though.” He chastised you, all serious, you giggle.

“That’s not how colds work, Nanami.”

“Welp, still, now it’s thundering.” A loud clap sounds, and the rain is pattering you both under the shelter of his umbrella, you see his shirt is wet, clinging to his chiseled frame, one you were so close to, then you finally grow quiet. “How far is your place?”

“A few blocks or so.”

“You’re not going that far like this. I live less than a block away, let’s warm you up and I’ll put these clothes in the dryer.”

Your heart is thudding in your ears.

You wanna scream.

You wanna text Nobara.

Nanami's place?!?

“Is that too forward?” He asks, concerned, brows low over his eyes, which you notice have little raindrops on them, his tanned skin glistening. You gently reach up and touch his face, feeling him tense a bit. You pull away, but he stops you, grabbing your wrist, and you two stay like that for some time.

Soaking wet and the rain pouring, you just touching his face, barely, under this umbrella protecting your already soaked bodies from the pounding rain.

“I’m fine coming over. If you don’t mind.” You say, starting to shiver a bit as your wet clothes get to you, much to his concern as he gives you a little nod.

“May I?” He holds out an arm, pulling you closer, you sigh, far too fucking happy and trying to act cool. As if you could.

“Of course.”

“We’ll be there in just a few.”

You were soon in Nanami's apartment, your mind took in everything, the simple, sleek design, nothing too crazy or gaudy. But it did have a few little hints of him, of his personality that was hard to discern, but there. You two were dripping wet at his entryway, taking off your shoes, you peek at him, those clothes clinging, dying to know what was underneath despite your sopping wet state.

“I will get you something dry to put on, and put these in the dryer for you. All right?”

“Yes, thanks so much.” You continue to peer around his apartment, noting the comfy looking couch and loveseat, tan, simple but suede which looked inviting, as he disappeared. You look on the shelves, of little figures, pictures of him in his fancy suits with his friends…

“Here, I know these will swallow you, but they are as small as I can find.”

As you turn around to face him, you realize he's standing right behind you. He hands you a T-shirt and a pair of boxer shorts, along with a towel, making you flush as your brain goes awry. His fingers brushing against yours as you take the garments from him. The contact sends a shiver through you. You want nothing more than to stay like this, feeling his presence so close, even if you’re soaking wet.

"No it's perfect, thanks, Nanami."

You exhale, looking up at him. He nods, avoiding your gaze as he steps away a little awkwardly, giving you some space. You quickly go into the bathroom, which was perfect and as clean as you’d expect, stepping out of your wet clothes to dry up with one of his fluffy white towels.

You pat yourself dry, peering around the perfect little bathroom, with sleek modern tile and everything modern and simple. It was so much different than your own, usually full of makeup, perfumes and hair clips scattered on your tiny counter. Instead he had just a few organized things, cologne, aftershave, hair pomade… all arranged perfectly.

You begin to change into his clothes now, feeling the soft cotton against your skin. They smell like fresh laundry, and just a hint of him. It's oddly intoxicating. You realize how bad you have it, sighing as you peek in the mirror, seeing your nipples are hard against the soft gray shirt, bringing your mind to the worst possible things, his hands…

“Get it together, bitch, it’s just clothes. Ugh.” You mumble to yourself, then jump when you hear his voice,

“Everything all right?” He asked, and you wanna fall into the tiled ground beneath your bare feet.

“Yeah, fine! Just a sec.” You try to dry your hair a bit with the towel, scrunching it just so, it was in wet slick waves.

“Wanna hand me those? I'll dry em.”

“Yes, thanks so much again!” You peek out, handing him the wet close with a little smile, then go back to fixing your leaky mascara. You looked like a fucking raccoon.

When you're finished, you head back into the living room, finding him sitting on the couch, looking out the window at the rain. He had a sleek electric heater that looked just like a fireplace going, making everything ridiculously cozy. He’s now wearing a soft gray cableknit sweater, turtleneck, making him look so different than what you were used to, he looked comfy, and casual, yet he was still so elegant.

You clear your throat, unsure of what to say or do. The air between you feels charged, electric. He turns to face you, then, and he pats the couch cushion next to him, smiling a little, surprising you. It was quiet aside from the rain pattering on the window and the little noise the heater made.

“Come warm up.” He said invitingly, you nibble your lip just a bit, coming to sit next to him, wearing just his clothes, the shirt was swallowing you indeed. It was cozy though. He casually placed an arm over the back cushion. “You’re so tiny.”

“You’re also huge.” You cover your mouth then, and you both break out in laughter at how it sounded. “Oh my gosh.”

“It’s been one hell of a day, huh?” Nanami rubbed the bridge of his nose as you both eased a bit, some of the awkwardness fading.

“It has been. Now you’re stuck with me till my clothes dry and the rain dies down.” You tease, but he looks down to you, rather serious, his eyes meeting yours for a moment before dropping to your lips.

“I don’t mind at all.” He murmurs, and your tummy flips, those butterflies turning to violent moths inside as you feel the energy stirring between you. “I was kind of going to ask you on a date soon…”

“You were?” You asked incredulously. He nodded. “Waited a year though?”

“I just got really absorbed with work and life in general, I never meant to completely ignore you. I didn’t even think of having friends or a life until a few months ago.”

“It’s okay, I don't really need an explanation. I was teasing.”

“But you deserve one.” He gently brushes your hair back behind your ear, still damp from the downpour, setting your body on fire from just that. “I was actually really attracted to you when we met.”

“You were?” He snorts at that, rolling his eyes.

“Fuck am I that bad at showing things?”

“Um… yeah.” He sighs a bit, still errantly playing with the curls that formed from your scrunched hair.

“So… recently, I went to a strip club.”

You freeze.

“Oh?” He nodded. You expected him to say it, to ask it… to…

“Yeah, and I realized, maybe I am too fucking high strung. Gojo, who I work with, just got married and I thought to myself, I kinda want what they have. That connection, to open up. I think seeing him turn down all these women, and trust me he was quite the man whore, made me see how much it changed him. Then I just… I don’t know. I’m talking too much.”

“No, no… I like to hear you talk.” You take his hand, and he looks down at it, turning his palm over to entwine with your fingers.

“I think I am so… I am not good at things with women. I confused a stripper for actually liking me. This stuff isn’t area of expertise.”

Ouch.

Shit.

“Wh-what do you mean?” You look down at your lap.

“I was pretty intoxicated, since Gojo was filling us with drinks, and I think I got something simple confused. It made me realize how bad I crave a connection and how much I've avoided one. And clearly kinda fucked it up even.”

You’re silent, and take a deep breath. “You haven’t fucked up anything. Maybe the stripper did like you? Strippers also have crushes.”

He shrugged a bit, broad shoulders moving under the thick sweater. “Likely she was just having fun. Which is not a bad thing. I realized I never loosen up or have any fun, and maybe I should try.”

“So you kind of figured I’d be fun? I hate to break it to you. I’m kinda lame.”

He rolls his eyes at that, errantly playing with your hand. “Nothing about you is lame to me. I just watched you dance. It was beautiful. I'm kind of... boring.”

“Well, you’re not boring to me. You just… you’re just yourself, Nanami. And I like that about you.”

Nanami’s breath hitches, and soon he’s leaned closer, and you easily fall against his embrace, a hand on his broad chest, material warm and thick under your touch, the other still holding his. He’s studying you, eyes roaming over your face, and it’s on the tip of your tongue to tell him, just to end it before it begins, before you catch more feelings than you already had.

He wouldn’t want you when he found out.

Or would he?

That stripper sure did fucking like him… you did.

You didn’t wanna lie to him…

But you also hated missing this chance, to know him, after so long.

Shit.

“There’s something I’ve been really wanting to try, and I kind of planned to do this after a proper date, if you had wanted.” His hand gently cups your face, and your heart is pounding in your ears.

“What would you like to try?” Your voice was just a whisper, your eyes darting to his lips, which he nervously ran a tongue along, tempting you further.

“May I kiss you?” He asked, so softly, and your heart now wants to pound out of your chest, your breath coming out in a little pant, which seemed to excite him, hands tightening just a bit.

“Yes. Please.” You flush at your desperate words, but Nanami moaned quietly then, and then he was so close to you.

He asked you this time.

Without further hesitation, he leans in and kisses you, firm, but gently. Your lips part, and his tongue starts to dance with yours, sending a shiver down your spine, an ache in your lower tummy beginning. He tastes like coffee and something uniquely him, and you can feel your heart racing as he pulls you closer, one hand gently tangled in your drying hair.

You moan into the kiss, arching your back as he possesses your mouth, familiar yet so foreign, and your hands drift up to his broad shoulders, clinging to him, for some sense of gravity. He nips your lower lip, and you tremble, desire hitting every nerve ending of your body from just that.

He pulls away just a bit, leaning back, studying your features with stark desire in his eyes. “You feel familiar…”

You gulp. “I do?”

“Yes.” He kisses you softly, as if testing his theory, and you almost falter, letting it spill out, but then his mouth is back on you, silencing anything you may let loose, instead his tongue is more insistent, more passionate.

One of his big strong hands finds its way under the shirt you wore, his shirt, hot on your bare skin as it slides up your tummy, to your waist, pausing just at your rib cage, making your breasts ache for more. The feeling is exhilarating, and you can feel the heat building between your legs. You want nothing more than to lose yourself in this moment, to forget about everything else.

As his tongue tangles with yours, he slips a hand up further, pulling away with a shaky breath. “I should stop.”

“Ugh, no!” He blinks a bit at you, and you feel your cheeks heat up, taking his hand in yours and looking right into his eyes, those green flecks illuminated as his pupils dilate. “Do you want to stop?”

“Fuck no. But… is this okay?” He asks, and you nod, as he begins cupping your breast over the lace of your bra, which had not gotten wet in the rain, though you couldn’t say the same for your panties…. You gasp, feeling a sharp jolt of desire shoot through you. He massages your nipple just a little roughly, and you cry out, throwing your head back.

He growls, Nanami Kento growls, quietly, but it sounded possessive and fucking hot, and he’s kissing down your neck, making you wetter as you grind on the couch for some friction against your aching pussy. Your nipples hurt against the lace, pressing more and more insistently on his rough palms.

“Nanami…” You whisper, wanting more, more…

“Kento.” He says against your neck, softly, tickling you, before looking back down into your gaze. “Call me Kento, please.”

You smile, the name you’ve never really said, feeling intimate. “Kento.”

He says your name softly, too, and it sounded far too good from his lips, then you all are kissing once more, his hand gently easing the thin cup of your bra down, brushing against your bare breast now. You cry out into his mouth, body unable to stop moving as you craved him with all of you.

“It’s so familiar.” He pulls back to breathe out, and you’re tense, as he’s studying your eyes, your every feature. “I…”

“I should go.” You hop up, nervous as fuck, and he stands, turning you to him, drinking you in with those goddamn studious eyes.

“Why?”

“I…”

“Did I go too far?” He frowns, concerned, so sweet and you didn’t deserve it. You shake your head furiously.

“I liked it way too much… not even far enough. It’s just I… you don’t even know me, Nanami.”

“Kento.” He corrects, and it’s like an order, firm, so different from his usual gentle tones, standing so tall and handsome over you.

“Kento.” His name is like a caress.

“Do you want me to stop, then?”

“No, I want you to fucking rail me on the goddamn wall.” You gasp, covering your mouth, and he stands there, shocked, blinking. “Fuck. Welp. I sound like a whole slut, but I’m actually not, I don’t even have much experience, not that it’s bad to! People should fuck all they want, and I just feel slutty for you and I’m being really awkward, so please ignore that, my god! I…”

“Will you shut up?” He shocked you, making you gasp, the tone was soft, quiet, but the words…

“Shut up?” He nods, and walks toward you, and you’re backing away, step by torturous step, as he presses you forward, until you’re backed up against the living room wall. His hands are on either side above your head, as he leans forward.

“You want me to rail you on a wall?” He demands, and your pussy is throbbing, your breasts hurting, every bit of you consumed as he stands over you, imposing, consuming you.

“Just ignore me. I have a lot of… problems.”

His brows drew low over his eyes. “Oh. So you didn’t mean it.”

“No, I sure fucking did, it’s just you don’t know me. You don’t know what all I do, what I-”

You peer up, so much shorter than him, feeling so small, your heart racing as you struggle to catch a breath. His hand was gently tilting your chin up. “I don’t care whatever it is you do.”

“What if I’m an assassin?” You tease, he smirks just a bit, then he shocks you, pressing you further into the wall, wrapping an arm around your hips, lifting you with ease to where your feet are just dangling. Fuck it was hot.

“An assassin, a thief, a stripper…” You tense. You’re sure he notices, but he continues on, and you’ve wrapped your arms around his neck, legs around his hips, now pressed against him. “I don’t really care. I am more interested in how you’ve gotten this wet for me from a kiss.”

You cry out, and then you’re kissing again, Nanami pressing your body against the wall, you grind against him helplessly, heat against the hard bulge in his jeans, wishing you could rip them the fuck off. He took over every sense, every nerve ending, every piece of your soul, as his strong hands held you by your ass, pressing further against you.

“I’m this wet because you make me this way.” You manage to whisper, and then his hooded eyes locked on yours, hands gripping you so tight you’d bruise, and you’d be happy as fuck to have marks from him.

“I want to go on a date with you.” You giggle, at the position you all are in, and he even laughs breathlessly.

“I’ll definitely go on a date. Are you gonna make me wait for…” He nods, and you sigh just a bit, aching.

“I want to do things right.”

“Are we going to ask my parents permission to court me then?” He playfully bites your neck, making you moan, your hands enwrapping in his hair.

“You’re kind of a smart ass aren’t you?”

“A bit. Maybe. Mmm.” He’s now pecking little apology kisses, where he’d bit you just ever so slightly, shooting hot desire down through you.

“I would ask to court you. If we were in the 1800s.”

You giggle, swooning now, leaning your head back against the wall, losing it all in him. “You’re so fucking cute.”

“Cute? Sweet? That’s what you think of me, hmm.”

“Mmhmm.”

He eases you down, and you wobble on your feet, missing him against you immediately.

“I do really like that perfume, it’s still on you even though you’re soaked.” Your breaths make your chest rise and fall rapidly. “Soaked everywhere.”

“Fuck.”

You’re both kissing again, as if you can’t get enough, and you boldly take his hand, bringing it to your pussy, over his own boxers, which you had indeed soaked. He groans, sliding a finger down under the waistband, moaning into your lips as you return in kind, finding your puffy clit with ease. He rubbed in little circles, pulling back to look sensually down at you.

“You’re so pretty.” He says, and you want him so bad you feel tears prick your eyes in frustration as he continues his easy little caresses.

“You’re so fucking hot.” He grins, shaking his head with a little laugh. “I’m not… eloquent or whatever. Just really horny.”

“I see this.” He starts kissing down your throat again, your collarbone, your chest, you wanted to rip off your damn shirt, ride his fingers until you came, but he just tortured you with his easy little circles. You rub back and forth on him, whining. “So desperate for more of my touch, are you?”

Fuck.

“Yeah. I am.” He moans, sliding his finger lower finally, pushing inside of you then, and you fell apart, from just that, the sensation tearing through your body. “Mnh.”

“You’re so tight.” He murmurs, pressing up into you, finger so thick and long, your own two little fingers could never hit there, massaging against your tightening walls. He has one of your legs up in seconds, wrapped around his hip, so he has better access. “You want to come, darling?”

Darling. Fuck.

“Ah- thought I had to wait.” He crooks a finger inside of you just so, watching you with parted lips, finding that spot that made you see stars with ease, you gasp as pressure builds.

“You’ll have to wait sometime to get railed. As you so elegantly put it. But I’d love to see your lovely face while I make you come.”

If you hadn’t completely fallen, you sure have now.

His second finger slid down your slit, coating in your wetness, before pushing inside you. So long, thick, stretching your pussy out with both, you hiss a bit at it. A little too much pressure, but your body adjusted quickly as his fingers increased their rhythm, your vision blurs, breath quickens as he plays you so well. And he is just watching you, his lips parted, eyelids hooded, as if you were the prettiest thing he’d seen.

It was too much.

You fall apart, closer and closer, higher and higher, and he’s just fingerfucking you through it, those light brown eyes watching every expression your face made avidly. Soon, the heel of his hand is pressing on your clit as he’s shoving his fingers in all the way, and you’re trembling, everything building. You cling to him, your eyes shutting.

“Unh. Ah! Fuck, Kento… I'm close.”

“Ah-ah. Look at me.” He orders, and you do, meeting his aroused gaze, as he holds you tight while he’s hitting that spot just right, and you’re starting to pulse around his fingers, on the edge. “Come for me, pretty.”

You do it as if on command, but you were goddamn near there anyway, shaking, a near scream tearing through your throat, as he watched you orgasm, wetness slipping out of your tight cunt, onto his fingers. The sound was ridiculously obscene as he finished, finally easing up, sliding his fingers up and down your cunt.

“Kento… Mmnh…so good.” You mumble, as he eases his fingers out your cry out softly, And he's pulling you to his hard body, still fully dressed, kissing you as your body is shaking.

“You all right?” You nod, enjoying being pressed against him, his embrace.

“Oh, I'm great.” He chuckled softly, and you both kissed again. “Do you want me to return-”

“I enjoyed touching you plenty. That's more than enough.” You swoon over him some more. Fuck. How bad were you down for him?

“I'd like to.”

“Have patience, would you, darling?” You sigh, nodding, blushing.

“I really am not that experienced, I just kind of… lose it with you? So I may be talking mad game I can't live up to.”

“I don't mind that, either way.” He peers down at you, eyes softening. “When are we going to have this date, hmm?”

“I'm free this weekend?” You'd skip the strip night. You couldn't imagine even doing that at the moment.

You were a simp, Yuji was right.

“I am too. Text you the details this week?” You nod.

“Kinda don't wanna move, right now.”

“Then let's stay like this for a bit.”

You just stand there, in his strong arms, his chin on your head as his hand stroked your hair. There were things needing to be said soon, more things building… feelings… Rain is lightly pattering against the windows, Kento’s heart was steady against your ear. Your mind is fuzzy from his touch, but for now you just really like him holding you.

Chapter 4

Ao3 chap

https://archiveofourown.org/works/56003029/chapters/142698424#workskin

#nanami kento #nanami smut #jujutsu nanami #jjk nanami #nanami x reader #kento nanami #jujutsu kaisen nanami #kento x reader #kento smut #kento x y/n #kento x you #jjk kento #nanamin #nanami kento fluff #nanami fanfic

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heiayen · 5 months

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gently wipe the sorrow off my life, i dream scaramouche x gn!reader

summary: "you didn’t know what happened, why it happened and that was breaking your heart, cutting it open, leaving burning pain in your chest, where once flowers of love bloomed." you're surprised and completely heartbroken when your lover, kunikuzushi, suddenly disappears without a trace. you think it's the end of the world, with your heart open and bleeding but soon you discover, that there is still happiness waiting for you.

tags: based on the prompt "there’ll be happiness after you but there was happiness because of you", scara's real name used, modern au (from highschool to college), scara basically pulls an irminsul but why? blame dottore angst/bittersweet, [name] is very much going through it </3 title name taken from the honkai star rail song "if i can stop one heart from breaking". not proofread

notes: hi. i come back with angst! written for @thexianzhoujade's personal memoires event and truthfully i kinda hate this fic HAJAHS but this is fine i am not fine blah blah blah yippee. i forgot how to write scara so sorry if this fic is kinda ooc but yeahhh have fun enjoy !! <3 as if anyone is going to enjoy angst LMAO

“Come on, it’s just one photo and besides, we barely have pictures of us…”

“...just one, fine. Get in here.”

A part of you wished you had taken more pictures with him. Pictures from dates in the blooming parks, from hangouts with your friends after school, from spending time together at his place, something to fill up the empty photo album you found hidden in your room. You filled only a few pages, with a few pictures of you and Kunikuzushi, of you taken by your friends, of your family during holidays, pictures of you and your friends, his friends, a picture of him you took when he didn’t see– the one you considered putting in your wallet, laughing how you’d look like a spouse missing their husband.

(You counted exactly six photos of him in your album, compared to the twenty or so with others. Barely a quarter, not even a half, barely a page and a half of the album.)

You moved your fingers over one of them, the one you took after graduation– laughing with your friends, posing at the camera, tightly holding his hand, and tugging him closer, and wondered.

Did it have to end like this? If you only knew what was happening, would you somehow fix it in time?

Things were… nice, before. Being with him was nice, even if his personality sometimes made you tug at your hair in annoyance. But you found a common language and spoke in it till the very end, sharing your joy and sadness, annoyance and anger, silent tears and gentle fluttering in your chests.

When you first met Kunikuzushi in school, you had your opinions about him– he wasn’t the nicest, wasn’t talking with many other students, and seemingly valued his time alone more than with someone. You understood it, some people simply weren’t the social butterflies but it became a problem when, by some unlucky charm (at least, you thought it was unlucky then), you ended up together to work on a project. You didn’t know him and your teacher decided to pair you by herself, saying how she wanted her students to interact more with each other. It seemed like a terrible idea at first.

(You rolled your eyes, giving a look to your friend. You really didn’t entertain this idea– to do a big project with someone other than your friend? You dealt with enough shitty groupmates leaving you on read or delivered in your life, and that was for small projects! What if you got someone as shitty as them? You shuddered at the thought alone.)

But, oh, how wrong you were. You didn’t expect to befriend that guy, and yet a few months in, Kunikuzushi became your best friend, and a year later– your lover.

You remembered that love confession like yesterday; a little awkward, he jumbled over his words and you said something stupid in return, laughing awkwardly at yourself and almost getting up from that bench and marching back home. It was late, the bench in the park illuminated by the streetlight. A part of you was sure he planned for the confession to look different, yet whatever his ideal plan was, you wouldn’t exchange what you got for it.

He walked you back home, you remembered, holding your hand.

To say you were happy was an understatement. Something bloomed in your chest with every day spent together with him, the little affections between you warming your heart and cheeks, and every morning seemed… a little brighter. It wasn’t wake up, get dressed, go to school, spend majority of your day studying, sleep, anymore.

Wake up, reply to Kunikuzushi’s late night message he sent. Get dressed and don’t forget about that chain necklace with a pendant he gave you for your birthday (you were matching, of course you were matching). Go to school and spend the day with your friends, with Kunikuzushi, with his friends (although you weren’t sure if that ginger guy was really his friend, but…). Spend the rest of your day studying, texting, and sometimes hanging out if you had free time (which turned into weekly hangouts with all your friends and… sometimes, more than once a week, just you and Kunikuzushi). Text him goodnight and smile at his, although short, reply back. Sleep.

You hoped it would stay like this… for longer. For as long as possible, just living in this bliss, being happy and not alone, with people you loved and who loved you back, some even more than others.

(Selfishly, you wanted that to last forever. Forever the high school student with no worries other than passing exams and doing your homework on time. Forever with your friends, spending weekends with them, having fun and not caring about anything else. Was it selfish to want to be happy forever?)

Kunikuzushi was here with you for all your problems, even if, truthfully, he wasn’t the best at solving them, and neither he was good at words. But he was still here, offering you support and letting you talk about what annoyed you, what made you sad and sometimes, he still would try to comfort you, loudly agreeing with your complaints, (lovingly) threatening to beat someone up if they were an asshole to you, telling you to not worry. It wasn’t the end yet.

His presence alone helped you manage through harder days– it was better to be with someone after all, rather than spend your days wallowing in sadness alone, with only the walls willing to listen.

(You offered him help, too. Quietly sitting and listening to his rants about his mother, squeezing his hand and tugging him closer to you– or simply being next to him, when touch was something unwanted.)

When graduation came, in bittersweet tears you promised your friends (and Kunikuzushi, of course) to still be in touch with them, and never leave them alone just because you weren’t students from the same class anymore. That didn’t change anything, no.

The summer vacation you spent mostly with your friends, hanging out and enjoying the warm, summer weather. So many trips, so many walks with Kunikuzushi and dates– oh, that picnic you two went on one day… it started raining at one point (the weather reports lied to you, it seemed) and you only had a blanket to cover yourself from the rain. How funny it was, how much you wished you could get the chance to do it again, with him–

You sighed, closing the album. Sometime before the summer’s end, right before the start of college, you noticed… changes in Kunikuzushi’s behavior. He still was your lover, caring about you in his own ways, he still was the man you loved, but something seemed to always bug him. Something seemed to sit on his shoulders, heavy. You always asked him if he was okay because yes, yes, you noticed his worse mood, noticed all the little things he tried to hide and you were worried, really worried, and–

And yet, you never got a proper answer. Always to not worry, that nothing was wrong, and you were tired of that, maybe if you, at least this once, pressed him for answers, during that summer night you called a date–

Maybe you would know why he suddenly disappeared without a trace.

The many messages you sent, the many unanswered calls– you asked your friends around, his friends, and were greeted with radio silence in answer. You didn’t know what happened, why it happened and that was breaking your heart, cutting it open, leaving burning pain in your chest, where once flowers of love bloomed.

(These flowers would never truly burn, you feared. Some would still leave, polluting your heart and making it harder to breathe.)

What was once beautiful turned into a burden, far too heavy to carry alone. There was so much stress on your plate– because what if something happened to him? What if someone did something to him, what if there was something you could do to change it? Why were you so distracted throughout the day? Why was it hard to get up in the morning, why the only thing you wanted to do was to wait at your phone, with hopes of seeing at least a single message from him? Where went your motivation to study, to do well in college as you promised yourself?

Where was he? What happened? Could you change it?

Were you at fault?

(No, of course you weren’t. You did everything in your power, but it just wasn’t enough. None of this was your fault.)

Were you alone in it?

…no, you weren’t. It felt like you were, especially at first; with new people around you, your friends offering you support but ultimately being busy, you felt alone. Terribly so, loneliness gnawing at your soul all the time, leaving the icy cold feeling in its wake.

But life forced you to get up from that pit, whether you wanted that or not. You couldn’t fail your major, not when you worked so hard to get into it in the first place. And neither you wanted to completely cut off your friends, so you started replying to their texts more. You’ve met new people, too, and made new friendships.

Things were getting back on track after, you thought that they wouldn’t. You pulled yourself up with your own strength, with your friends cheering for you from the distance, their cheers putting a smile on your face.

(Younger you thought that if you ever were to break up with Kunikuzushi, the world would simply… end. You ignored that thought creeping into your mind, waved it away, pushed it deep at the bottom of your mind. It wouldn’t happen.)

Now, as you looked at the pictures, you still felt a sharp pang in your chest. You missed him, yes, and you still thought about the days you spent together with him, but they no longer brought you back into that darkness you once experienced.

They were a bittersweet memory now. Ones, you would cherish till the end, gently putting them on the shelf with new, happy memories.

You hummed to yourself in thought, tapping at the cover of the album with your nail. Maybe instead of pondering how you should take more photos of the past, maybe you should take more of the future? Fill the album up with new photos of yourself, your friends, random things that you found pretty and worth remembering.

Your phone threw you out of the thinking, the loud noise of the ringtone filling up the room. Right, you were supposed to meet up with your friends in an hour and here you were, going through your old stuff and procrastinating the shower.

You put the album away and picked up your phone. A smile tugged at your lips hearing the overjoyed voice of your friend, telling you how excited they are to meet with you again (your last hangout was two weeks ago!) and that they already left.

You looked back at the album.

With today, you’d start filling it up with new memories of your happiness.

#astronetwrk #・ nouveau livre ˎˊ˗#nereids' realm #⊹ ࣪ ˖ personal memoires ⟢#heia's writin'#genshin impact x reader #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact x you #scaramouche x reader #wanderer x reader #kunikuzushi x reader #scaramouche x you #wanderer x you #kunikuzushi x you #how about you stop having so many names #gender neutral reader

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sweetbillwriting · 6 days

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The Key To His Heart - I

Description: As a hard-working novelist and single dad, Bill hasn't had much time for dating but gets an unorthodox chance to meet women when his friend persuades him to be a part of a dating TV show.

Characters: AU Bill Skarsgård, where his life changes in 2013 and later 2019.

Setting: L.A, 2024, but in an alternative universe with Bill having a completely different life.

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, heavy themes.

Notes: I changed the title of this story! This is just a fun story; please don't overanalyze too much haha. Here is the teaser.

Bill would never confess how much he missed a woman in his life. He wasn't the type to talk loudly about his feelings with friends or family, so instead he carried the loneliness by himself. He did everything by himself and even for his daughters because he wasn't just a separated dad; he was a widower. He didn't have anyone else to parent with, but he didn't have anyone to be a man with either. He needed a woman in his life that could lift him up, share the good and the bad with, and snuggle up with at night. He was ready now, ready to let a woman into his and his daughters' lives, but he felt it would be hard, he had already had a big love.

He stood in front of a full-length mirror in his walk-in-closet. His bedroom had it when he moved into the mansion, but he didn't have enough clothes to fill it, so more than half of the shelves were full of books and movies instead. He wore a dark blue suit with a light luster in it, paired with a crisp white tee. His hair was combed messily back and to the side.

Bill knew he was handsome. He was tall, had an athletic build, and features that fit a high couture model. He rarely felt self-conscious about his looks; instead, it was his way of being that could make him doubt himself. He was a thinker, and because of it, he was not always fully present within the presence he actually was in. He got nervous in the spotlight and could be so goal-oriented he could sometimes stomp on others feelings, never on purpose; he just liked honesty and open communication, but not everyone could handle his ways. He was not a charming prince. He didn't have American charm and timing, he had Swedish awkwardness and ironic humor. Why he would participate in a dating program on TV confused him more than the people surrounding him, but his friend, Herman, had persuaded him it was a great idea that he could bring something new to the format. Similar programs had been made for years, but it had more or less been men shaped in the same mold.

Herman sat behind Bill on a bench with an emerald green velvet cushion and agreeably nodded towards Bill.

“You look great, man,” he said, and stood up from the bench. He cleared his throat to stress Bill a bit; both of them knew twelve women were waiting on him downstairs along with a film team. Bill swallowed hard; his chest even pained with nerves, and for some seconds he thought about refusing to go down. It all was so silly, and that twelve women would want to date him felt impossible; they would leave the first week when they realized he was a workaholic just thinking about his daughters and new projects. He had never dated, he didn't really know how you did it, and he didn't have female friends; he wasn't such a man twelve women would fight about.

“Time to meet the chicks,” said Herman playfully. He was a producer for the program, and it was important for him that Bill performed. Bill nodded and laughed nervously before going to the stairs. He could see how the cameraman, behind the camera pointed towards the stairs, started to film. He took a deep breath before walking down the broad staircase with a straight back and a hand in his pants pocket.

It started now, the adventure. He looked out over the sea of women standing by the end of the stairs, waiting for him; most of them were dressed in cocktail dresses and heels. They applauded when they saw him, and he smiled, embarrassed, looking away so they could see the deep dimple in his cheek. He could hear some giggles of endearment of seeing him blush lightly. A servant came up to him with a silver tray holding champagne flutes. He gave the glass a displeased look. It wasn't the glass he had said they would use. Champagne shouldn't be served in flutes, but he still gave the server a small smile before taking a glass.

“Ehm, Yeah, welcome to my place. I hope you will feel at home. I look forward to getting to know all of you. Cheers!”

He wondered if he sounded awkward, like a nervous teenage boy, but he could see Herman behind the girls smiling pleased. The girls lifted their glasses and cheered with him. Bill smiled wide at them because they actually looked at him like he was extraordinary, and some of the girls were so fine he could feel his heart beating with attraction. This would be interesting.

×××

It was not as bad, as he had thought it would be being the center of attention of twelve beautiful women. It was a cocktail party with just him, the women, and of course the camera team, but they kept their distance even if he knew they captured everything on tape. Wherever he was, the women looked at him, even if they talked to each other. It was strange, but he also felt himself grow a few inches. He talked lightly with some of the girls, but there were a bit too many impressions to take everything in. He was talking to two women about their hometowns when suddenly someone took his hand and pulled him out on the deck surrounding that part of the house. It was a woman with long raven hair and golden eyeshadow. She was probably some years older than himself.

“Maria,” she said confidently and stretched out her hand to him. Bill smiled, impressed by her self esteem, and shook her hand.

“Bill.” She laughed softly and nodded.

“I know that.”

“You do?” Bill said playfully and took a sip of the old-fashioned drink in his hand.

“Mhm, you know, you might be the reason I'm here.”

“Oh yeah?”

There was a flirty vibe between them at once, and Bill really liked it.

“Yeah…” She gave him a teasing smile before changing the subject. I'm a writer too.”

“Oh? What do you write?”

“I write for teens, like teen noir.”

Bill nodded; he had heard about the genre but couldn't really say what it was, and at that moment he didn't feel he needed an explanation.

“I guess I haven't read anything by you then.”

Maria shrugged her shoulders as a joke, and Bill smiled.

“I think we could be a fantastic team…” Her voice was low and she looked at him with big eyes. She was no longer as flirty; she looked more at him like she already had a crush, and Bill felt the nerves go up at once.

“Yeah, yeah…” He drank up his drink. “Time to find a new drink,” he said, and he showed her his empty glass. Her soft eyes became a bit much for him, but he also knew his assignment for the night was to talk with the women, as many as possible.

×××

“Violet,” she said with a giggle. She looked like that girl he would call an American “girl next door." They stood by the bar the production had put up in the living room while he waited on his Negroni, and she just had gotten her Cosmopolitan. She looked really young, and he was right.

“I'm 22. That's not a problem, right? You felt so open in that interview.”

“No, no… But I should be honest and say I've never dated someone so much younger than me.”

He gave her a quick glance. Her legs were long and golden and looked so smooth.

“I'm mature for my age. I have my own company, you know.”

“Oh yeah?” He said interested but started to imagine it was something silly, like selling unicorn keyrings.

“Yeah, I sell environmentally friendly plastic products to hospitals, like gloves and mugs, and so on.”

Bill looked at her, surprised. It wasn't what he expected from a 22-year-old.

“That's, that's impressive.” He smiled at her and she giggled proudly.

“Yeah, it actually works really well.”

“When did you start it?”

“Two years ago. I studied to be a nurse but saw how many plastic products the hospital used and felt I wanted to make a change.”

Bill couldn't stop smiling because the more she talked, the more impressed he got.

“I think it's my turn now,” said a girl next to them. She was short, so he needed to drop his gaze. He looked at the girl's face for a few seconds, then wiped the corner of his mouth while swallowing hard. Wow. Wow. He had said Ana De Armas was beautiful in his interview, and here was her lookalike. He turned to Violet with a smile, trying to mask his feelings.

“Thank you for the conversation, Violet.” She smiled disappointedly and looked at the girl who had enough guts to lay her hand on his arm and steer him away from her and the other girls. She steered him to the hallway where no one was and stood a few steps up the stairs to be as tall as him but also have her arms around his neck. Bill had his drink in his hand, but he also felt it would be a bit much for him to feel the girl's midnight blue chiffon dress with his fingers.

“I read that you're a leo,” she said sensually, and Bill smirked in attraction. Her name was Camila, and she radiated sexiness in such a natural way.

“Yeah?”

“That's why all of us look at you like you're a god. We want to worship you, and you love it, right?”

Bill laughed and snapped his neck as an answer.

“And you deserve the attention. You're really ambitious, creative, and full of passion.”

He just stood and smirked, especially because she dragged her long nails through the hair on his neck, and he could feel it tickle all the way down to his cock.

“What's your sign?” He said and took a sip from his drink.

“Scorpio.” It didn't say Bill anything, but even that sounded sexy, so he licked his lips and gave her a pleased nod. His full attention was on the sensual brunette in front of him, so he didn't notice that two women walked by the hallway and looked at them. They were on the way to the bathroom, talking about his latest book, when they saw Camila standing with her arms around Bill's neck. The redhead, Sandra, looked at them with big eyes while Maria looked away.

“So typical it's her he stands like that with...” said Sandra, and rolled her eyes. Maria didn't say anything but looked at Bill disappointedly.

×××

Bill saw a pair of eyes behind a camera that stared at him. It was Herman who, with a head movement, told him it was time to go to the next woman. Bill didn't feel the need though; he liked being worshiped under Camila’s gaze.

“Ehm, hm, I must give the other women my attention now…” he said. The sigh was close. He wanted to stay there.

“Do you?” She said it teasingly and dragged her hands over his shoulders. Bill nodded a little with a strained smile. “But thank you for your time.”

Camila released him slowly and turned on her heel. Bill looked her up and down while they both walked up the short stairs to the rest of the big hallway. Maybe he already knew who he would choose in the end.

While walking into the living room, several of the girls smiled at him to allure him to talk to just them, but Herman, behind a camera, nodded Bill towards a bleached bottle blonde by the fireplace. She looked like his own age, but not at all his type. Her dress was strapless and made of burgundy faux leather.

“What's your name?” He asked her kindly while she played with her bleached hair.

“Victoria,” she said with a sweet smile. Her voice was soft as silk and nothing he had expected. “We have actually met before.”

“Have we?” Bill furrowed his brows but also felt stupid that he didn't remember her. Victoria smiled and shrugged her shoulders.

“My dad owns a bookstore close to Central Park, and you were there to sign some books... I understand you don't remember me; it was a long time ago, and I had another hair color.” Bill nodded, trying to remember her or even the bookstore, but he couldn't find anything in his head. He did so many signings, especially in New York, so he couldn't remember.

“What hair color did you have then?”

“Light brown, sort of, the boring kind.”

“Like me?” Bill quipped with a smirk.

“What? No, no. Yours is much more chocolate; I was just… Like a rat.” He smiled amused and took a sip of his drink.

“What do you work with?”

“Ehm, I actually work at the bookstore. It's fun because my dad lets me try all kinds of business.” Bill didn't want to be the person judging her for her work, but standing behind a counter in a store felt really uninspiring. He was himself super ambitious and wanted a woman with similar attributes.

“I'm sorry, Victoria, but it's time for me to give the other women a chance.” Victoria nodded.

“Of course, of course.”

But Bill didn't go speak with another girl; instead, the team led him to an armchair between the plants out in the orangery. He knew why they wanted him there; it was time for him to receive questions about the girls that they would edit so it would seem like it was his own thoughts. It would be cut into the show so the viewer could follow his feelings and thoughts.

“Camila is something else… I can't deny I already like her,” he said with a smirk and dragged his hand over his thighs. “I like Maria too; I think she might be intelligent, and we would have much in common. Violet is impressive for her age…” Bill got lost in his own thoughts, thinking about the girls, but mostly Camila.

“What about Victoria?” Asked Herman. Bill knew the viewer wouldn't hear the question, so he must answer it like it was his own words.

“It doesn't feel like Victoria and I have so much in common.”

Bill nodded to himself but then realized he didn't know a thing about Camila but still had her as a favorite. Was he just shallow?

Bill was questioned on whether he believed his soulmate was there. He wasn't really that sappy, talking about soulmates, but he knew what was expected of him.

“I think my soulmate can be here; I look forward to getting to know them all.”

×××

Two girls with similar looks stood and looked up the big stairway leading up to the second floor, where they didn't have permission to be. By the first look, it looked like the brunettes looked at it dreamily, imagining themselves walking up the stairs with Bill, but it wasn't what they looked at. On the wall by the stairs was a big family portrait. Bill looked skinnier with a young girl in his lap; next to him sat a woman with dark blonde hair, heavily pregnant. The couple looked at each other with small, loving smiles while the child smiled big at the photographer. The girls look at Bill's wedding band, then at the woman's big diamond on her finger.

“Isn't it a little bit strange he let it hang there? I mean, it is his ex,” said Julie.

“It's not his ex; it's his late wife. His daughters’ mom,” said Esmeralda lowly and gave Julie an annoyed look.

"Yeah, but couldn't he have taken it down for now? It feels like he’s picking a mistress when she's up there.”

Esmeralda didn't say anything, just crossed her arms and shook her head. Just then they heard footsteps from the top of the stairs, and they both looked up, seeing Bill walking down with elegant loops. He smiled at them and wondered if they stood there waiting for him. He didn't notice how they were looking at the picture, he was so used to it hanging there he didn't really think about it.

“Hey?” He said and walked down to them. Julie blushed and smiled. She felt stupid for commenting on the portrait now when he stood in front of them and gave them a look a married man wouldn't. Esmeralda smiled a bit nervously but answered his hey with a hello.

“What were your names again? I'm sorry, there are so many names.”

They were the girls he had talked about their hometowns with. Both of them answered with sweet smiles, hoping they gave a better impression than the other.

“But both of you're models?”

He said, and looked at them up and down. It was just a reflex, their most important tool was their bodies, so it just went that way.

“Yeah, but with quite different things, I think? I do mostly lingerie shoots.”

Bill looked at her pretty face, trying not to look at her body. He wanted to imagine what she looked like under the black dress, but he didn't want to be that sort of pig and just smiled and nodded. Esmeralda didn't say anything and let Julie continue to talk.

“Are you interested in fashion? Maybe you have seen something with me then?”

Bill laughed uncomfortably and scratched his jaw.

“No… I'm dressed more or less the same way every day. I'm completely lost when it comes to fashion.”

He turned his gaze towards Esmeralda too, but she looked away. He got the feeling she might have lost interest in him all ready. Julie laughed and took a step closer to him, so she stood a bit in front of Esmeralda.

“I could help you with that.”

“Yeah?”

“Absolutely.”

Bill smirked, and without thinking, he got that feeling he wanted to tease her.

“I think there’s a fashion designer here, isn't there?”

Julie looked at him a bit irritated and put the tip of her tongue against her top lip. It was unnecessary, and maybe she would take offense for real, but it has just come as an impulse to tease her a bit. It didn't seem like it was appreciated, though.

“Bill?”

He turned towards Herman's voice, who stood at the entrance to the big living room.

“Time to give the keys.”

×××

In a popular TV show, the man gave the girls roses as a symbol they could stay; Bill would give them the keys to his house. They were just symbolic keys because his manor had fingerprint locks on every door, but it looked nice that he gave them each a golden key. He thought it was silly; why couldn't he just say who got to stay?

“It's better TV,” said Herman, but Bill still thought it was silly. Oh well, he would just play along.

This time all the girls would get a key. It was only more than right because he hadn't even had time to talk with them all. It wouldn't be fair, not to himself either. He would call them up in order of his interest. The first being who he was most interested in, then continued down to the one he was least interested in. He looked at the girls standing in front of him expectantly, like he had their lives in his hands. He took a key in his hand, looked at its old style but in shiny gold, then up towards the girls.

Camila.

He smiled big when she walked up to him, feeling a tickling feeling in his lower belly, but when he looked behind her, he could see several girls looking at each other pointedly. He felt his throat dry up. He knew they thought he was predictable. Maybe they had even seen them in the hallway. He turned his gaze towards Camila again and smiled warmly at her. She didn't seem to notice the girls judging stares, and he wouldn't let her know about it. He gave her the key, and then she walked away to the side, being an audience to the rest of the ceremony.

Maria.

Julie.

Violet.

Odette.

Tiffany.

Sienna.

Sandra.

Rose.

Brigitte.

Victoria.

Esmeralda.

×××

The camera team also took some of the girls to the armchair in the orangery, one by one, to see what they were thinking about the man they would move in with. Bill pretended he didn't notice that it happened, but in reality he was completely aware of who they brought with them, and it stressed him a bit.

Rose: He's super handsome! But still cute with his big eyes.

Victoria: I don't know why he didn't think I made a good first impression. I don't know; he's hard to read.

Sienna: He seems sweet; maybe even a bit shy?

Camila: I think we have some sort of chemistry. It feels good.

×××

Bill stood in the closet again, but now dressed down to his boxers. He hung up the suit again and then stretched out his back so it cracked satisfyingly. It had been a long day with many impressions, and more would come. Twelve women lived under his roof, and it made him a bit nervous. Five of them lived in the mansion, while seven of them lived in the guest house on the property. Some of them shared a room, and he wondered if it might have started some drama between them. He wouldn't have liked sharing a room with a stranger either. He laid down on the bedroom floor and stretched out before starting to do his obligated pushups. It was especially important now because he couldn't sag up when they would film him every day. While doing his workout routine, he thought back on the women. Several of them had Hollywood good looks, but he wondered if they were more than that. He needed someone who could challenge him intellectually and who could inspire him. A pretty face would maybe be interesting for a few weeks, but in the long run, other things were more important. He thought about Camila. Sexy, sexy Camila. He hadn't even asked her about her profession or her age. He felt ashamed while thinking about it.

Bill did his nightly routine but couldn't stop thinking about the girls’ looks behind Camila during the ceremony. They had judged him so hard. Sandra, Maria, and Esmeralda had looked at each other like he was a pig. Was he? He had never seen himself as shallow, but Camila was just too good to be true. While crawling down into bed, he instead thought about how nicely the dress had fallen over her curves and how erotic she looked when she licked her blushed lips. What did she wear under such a tight dress? It didn't look like she wore a bra, and he couldn't see a visible panty line. Did she wear underwear? If he had been so sneaky and let a hand move in under her dress, had his fingertips met a wet pussy? He would have petted it like it was the sweetest little kitten.

Fuck, he was a pig. He looked down at his erection like it had betrayed him. It wasn’t starting well if he was already getting hung up on one of the girls. He needed to get to know Camila instead of just thinking filth. She would be his first evening date. He nodded to himself and looked up at the ceiling.

She looked horny. She had wanted him. She was probably that sort of girl who loved sucking cock. She would deep throat him completely and look up at him with tears in her eyes while he hit the back of her throat over and over.

Bill didn't feel ashamed when he pulled out his cock and dragged his hand over it harshly; he just thought about how he would have thrust his cock hard into her mouth and made her feel distress for a few seconds by the suffocated feeling. When he came over his stomach, he felt ashamed though and took a napkin out from his nightstand table and wiped his stomach, grossed out by himself. It wasn't okay that he sexualized her like this already. He needed to treat these women with respect and not reduce them into sex objects when he was alone. He could do better. He was better.

×××

The alarm clock rang at 06.30, but Bill shut it off and turned to the other side. He had two more alarms, so he never listened to the first one. He wished he could just sleep until 11.00, but he hadn't been able to do that for five years. When the alarm clock rang again at 06.40, he turned it off, but sat up on the edge of the bed with a loud grunt. If he wanted to go out for a run, his chance was now. At nine, they would all meet for a shared breakfast, and he needed to take a shower before that and make himself presentable for the girls, but also the camera.

Once again, he stared at himself in the full-length mirror. He flexed his stomach a little but felt so stupid that he looked around to see that no one was looking. It would be impossible, but still he felt watched. He flexed his stomach again. It looked good. Actually, really good. He had worked out hard before the show and would continue; he would not look like some tired old dad.

After putting on his running gear, he walked down the stairs, but realized then he wasn't the only one up early. A blonde was just on the way out through the entrance door, but she turned around when she heard Bill's heavy steps behind her. Rose looked at him surprised.

“I thought I was the only one up,” she said with a smile, even if the both of them could see the cameraman in a corner.

“I thought the same. Are you always up this early?” Bill walked down to her. She was tiny, and he almost laughed when he realized their height difference. Her hair was long and golden, gathered in a high ponytail. She looked up at him, then laughed a little.

“This height difference…”

Bill laughed a little too.

“Yeah…” He looked at her running gear and opened the door.

“Do you want to run with me?”

They ran in silence; often Bill ran a bit in front of her because he had such long legs and she couldn't keep up, but he waited for her before running around a corner.

“Problem keeping up?” he said teasingly.

“Fuck you! It's because you have legs like a damn giraffe!” She laughed when she came up to him. They stood panting together by a little park while Bill smirked at the blonde.

“Would you just have guessed your way if you were out alone, or do you have a GPS?" He looked at her wrists but couldn't see a watch.

“I just guess. I don't like running with all this technical equipment. I just want to run. Like Phoebe in Friends, you know?” She joked and corrected the high ponytail. Bill made an amused nod. “I always find my way home; that's my talent.”

“Even to my home?”

“It's my home too right now.”

They looked at each other with big smiles for a few seconds before running back to the house together.

“I can help you stretch if you want?” said Rose when they stood outside of the manor. “I don't mean that in such a suggestive way as it sounded like. I'm a personal trainer,” she said with an embarrassed laugh and looked down at her running shoes.

“Sure, okay,” said Bill, and he led her to the side of the house where they could be on the deck. He looked at her a little amused because of her size, but when she started to stretch out his muscles, he realized there was more power in her than it looks like.

“Do you have problems with your left shoulder?” She asked and dragged her hands over his broad shoulders when he sat on the floor in front of her.

“Yeah, I got it in a mountain bike accident, actually. I wasn't as great as I thought I would be.” He looked up at her with big eyes but was forced to squint because she stood close to the morning sun. She was beautiful like that—rosy cheeked and healthy-looking. She didn't wear any makeup.

“You must take care of yourself,” she said sweetly. And massaged his shoulders lightly. Bill nodded and looked down at his bare knees, where he could see the scars laying on top of each other. Taking care of himself was not his specialty.

“I should go and shower... So I don't smell like sweat all day,” giggled Rose and made Bill stand up, towering over her again.

“I think you smell great.” He smiled kindly; it wasn't even flirty, just his thoughts. Rose looked away a little embarrassed, and it made Bill feel a bit confident, so when she was about to walk away, he took her hand in his and pulled her into a soft hug against his warm chest. Rose giggled and looked up at him, still pressed against his chest.

“I didn't think about how sweaty I am.” He laughed, embarrassed, and released her.

“No worries, I like it,” she said with a flirty smile before walking through the house to the entrance door. Bill stood and looked out over the lawn for a while with a small smile. He thought he probably would need just a few minutes of alone time before meeting all of the women again; what he didn't know was that several of them were already awake and planned how to get some time alone with him. One of them even stood by the window watching him when he thought he had some privacy.

The girls:

Maria: Writer, 38.

Violet: Entrepreneur, 22.

Camila: Engineer, 31.

Victoria: Shop assistant, 34.

Sandra: Fashion designer, 36.

Julie: Model, 25.

Esmeralda: Model, 27.

Rose: Personal trainer, 22.

Odette: Pediatrician, 33.

Tiffany: Actress, 30.

Sienna: Painter, 28.

Brigitte: Chef, 29.

#bill skarsgård #bill skarsgard #fan fiction #writing #story #bill skarsgård writing #bill skarsgård fanfiction #fiction #key to his heart

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lfghughes · 1 year

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gentleman jack him being nominated for some team award or fancy gala and taking his girlfriend. He in a suit, she in a long dress, limousine, champagne, red carpet; He's in love with every move she makes and she's bursting with pride.

a/n: this is me calling the win now for lady byng and you can all hate me if im wrong

Being in front of the camera wasn’t exactly something you dreamed of but every once in a while you just had to put your big girl pants on and do it. You knew Jack didn’t really like it either. It was one thing playing hockey in front of thousands a people every other night but putting on a suit and go to a big fancy event was a little bit of a sacrifice for the two of you when you preferred staying in or something much more casual.

You finished getting ready and you had to admit you did love the long dress you had on and okay maybe it did feel good to dress up a little for one night. Walking out of your bedroom and into the living room you saw Jack struggling with his tie. “Here let me help.” You told him as you walked up to him but his eyes go wide when he saw you. “What? What’s wrong?” He quickly shook his head at your question.

“Nothing you just look stunning.” He told you as his eyes grazed over your whole dress. Something about the way his eyes traveled all along your body made you feel like you were on fire. You snapped out of your thoughts as you went over, helping him finish his tie. “So..You think you’re still going to win that award even after your little ‘not fight’ with Aho?” You teased him, a little smirk on your lips as you used his own words against him.

“I really hope not simply because I don’t want to give a speech. Wait do you think I have to give a speech?” Clearly he had not paid much attention to any of the details of this and you hoped there was some kind of speech process just to hear what he would come up with on the spot. Once you both were done getting ready you met up with Nico who would be riding with you guys and a few other friends of Jacks that were also going to the award in a limo.

This was probably one of the fanciest things you had done, between the limo and the champagne. Both you and Jack lived a pretty simple and casual life even though you knew he had the ability to be doing this every night if he wanted to. Luckily he was much more low key about it. That didn’t really help either of you when it came time to the red carpet, you had felt awkward the minute you stepped out of the limo but quickly found your groove once Jacks hand went to your back, a reassuring movement on his part.

Once inside it was definitely a lot better without all the cameras flashing and there were plenty of familiar faces to talk to. When it came time to announce the winners of the awards you couldn’t help but look at Jack and when you heard his name get called you would have thought he had been prepared for this with the way he had calmly got up from his seat and leaned over to give you a quick kiss before heading on up.

During his speech you watched him with such pride of all the work he had done to get here. You also counted all the uhh’s he said just to tease him about later. “Uhh, yeah. So it’s great getting this award I mean I try to be as gentlemanly as possibly…with the exception of one time.” He smirked slightly as the crowd chuckled. With that the night came to an end and as much as you did end up having you were definitely happy to get home and into comfier clothes. As soon as you walked into the door your hand flew to your zipper and Jack went to help you “Let me be gentlemanly and help you out of this dress, huh?”

#jack hughes blurb #jack hughes imagine #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes

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sleephyuns · 10 months

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To clarify a point I made in the ask I sent last night and add onto it since I feel like I didn’t explain it well enough, Momo and Jihyo’s affection being the way it is doesn’t mean they don’t hug or anything like that, they hug and kiss and cuddle a LOT since Momo loves it like you said, and I believe Jihyo does as well, but I think what I meant by it (in my sleep induced delirium) is that while Sana’s affection is more ecstatic and joyful, and Mina’s is more low key and soft, Momo and Jihyo’s affection is more casual and unplanned, more relaxed hugs and spontaneous kisses, soft squeezes on each other’s biceps or thighs or hands passing over abs, still very very sweet but in their own much looser way if that makes sense??

(Part 1 Here) I definitely get what you mean! I think because they can both be a little awkward around each other, it’s more like “in the moment” affection because they have to get in that headspace. Whereas Sana might greet Jihyo with a running hug, Momo takes a bit to work up to it. And Jihyo sort of senses that energy, so she acts similarly. Starting with small touches, both of them passing their hands over each other now and then. Then, they’re able to give each other the kisses and hugs Momo so desperately craves.

Also, I really like what you added on about Mina and Sana. Loving Mina quietly, Sana loving loudly. I think it’s a good balance, with Momo sitting somewhere in the middle. A quiet love that grows and gets louder in waves.

As for what you mentioned about their sex lives, I completely agree with Sana being into exhibitionism. It’s in her nature to like it somewhere open like balconies, windows, etc, etc. With Momo it’s the opposite of the same interest. Exhibitionism in corners tucked away. Bathrooms, gym showers, even something as simple as getting too handsy in the corner of the room when Mina and Sana arent looking.

With that in mind I can definitely see Mina as someone who loves to just watch in any way possible. She’d love to get videos from all of her girls, but she loves ones with Momo and Jihyo together, just because Momo acts as natural as possible, eager to please Jihyo and not even worried about the camera (Sana likes to show off which isnt a bad thing, but Momo just really does it for her. Mina also thinks Momo looks hot taking dick from someone else who hits the gym).

When all of them are together, they definitely have a lot of fun.

In true harem fashion, I think they would have a thing for taking turns to “use” Jihyo (and Jihyo loves it too of course). On some of the days they decide to focus on her, they’ll handcuff or tie her to the bed and just go to town. They’ll do it to Momo too on occasion, she just has to be in the mood.

I also think Mina’s the type to want to clean up the others’ messes, in a way. For example: she’ll suck Jihyo off after fucking Sana, will practically beg for a taste of her cum leaking out of Sana too. And if Momo’s watching, and ends up jerking herself off to completion, Mina will be there to clean off her hand, her cock, her stomach if she’s gotten some there and all that.

When Mina’s the center of attention for the session, she loves getting toys used on her. She loves being as full as possible and having as many places stimulated as possible so…

And for Sana, as much as she loves doing the worshipping, she has times where she likes receiving too. Heavy on kisses and touching everywhere. Lots of praise and gentle words.

When it’s all said and done they always spend so much time cuddling. Even if it’s sweaty and sticky and a little difficult with the four of them they make it work. Mina and Momo would be very big on needing aftercare (no matter what position or role they were in that day), so it’s always a must. Momo usually drifts off to sleep after theyve cleaned up, and Jihyo’s always wide awake. Her and Sana end up having the most pillow talk and Mina just listens for comfort.

But yeah they’re all very sweet to each other in different ways :3

#misamohyo #ask #non rq #badgirl-down

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24-hourpartypeople · 7 months

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I'M ALAN PARTRIDGE S1: I mean, this is not just peak Alan, this is peak comedy. Every other line is a great joke if not a memorable quote yet it all still works in depicting Alan as a three dimensional character and not just a punching bag. It's all slightly exaggerated but gives back a sense of realness because the Alan universe is so perfectly crafted. What's really fascinating is that almost everything you get is from Alan's interacting with other people, but there's a strong underlyining sense of loneliness throughout and that's what makes you sympathetic towards the character. Yes he's opportunistic and arrogant but at times you want him to shut up not because he's annoying but because he's burying himself. Just cringe comedy played perfectly. I also absolutely love how you get comedy out of his little obsessions and pedantry, that's maybe my favourite definying trait of Steve's stuff.

Talking of Steve, he's unreal here. I've said it before but he has the incredible ability to go big while still playing on the subtleties, be it a face expression, the timing of inflection of a phrase or a small gesture. It's quite fitting that one of the most iconic moments of the series has him not speaking a single word. He's completely mastered the character by this point and there's nothing that's off limits for him. But what sticks out is that he's also able to bring the pathos and emotions when needed. Despair, childlike happiness, fear, awkwardness, disgust, it's all perfectly conveyed and even if it's for a laugh there's still another hidden message getting across.

It's very hard to pick a favourite moments but there's 3 quotes that I want to single out because I think in a way they're also either brilliant observations or great character detail.

"Yes, it's an extender". Because as I said I have a soft spot for all these mundane obsessions and they're an integral part of Alan's psyche, he gets worked over all these small, irrelevant things in a way that probably wears people out, or just confuses them. But the reality is, we all sometimes get overexcited about stupid things that bring some comfort to our lives, and your kitchen table being an extender is certainly a plausible candidate for that. It's like when you go to the supermarket and there's a discount on soap or when you come home and your flatmate has already put the bins out. The joys of life.

"At the end of the day you will pay the price if you're a fussy eater". That whole scene is fantastic and works on two level imo. The obvious one is the casual display of ignorance and racism. As the little englander that he is, even without being particularly engaged politically, Alan just looks down on irish people and doesn't even realise that all of his perceptions are based on old, reheashed stereotypes. But then I think the scene also captures something I believe we've all experienced. When you're out for dinner with a group, and there's someone you don't quite know. And that someone will say the most outrageous things without a worry because in his mind the possibilities that he's talking out of his arse, and that the other people sat at the table may not agree with his point of view, just don't exist.

"I just hate the general public". Again, in context, this works because it's just Alan refusing to admit his own defeat and instead blaming someone else, in this case everyone and no one in particular because he can't quite pin down the crowd that was at the event but he still feels they're inferior to him. But it's also such a great line to have come out of a guy that works as a tv presenter, especially a traditional one. He puts on this smiling face and pretends that the audience of the show are this kind of massive extended family when in front of the camera. He works with a different set of guests every time. He talks with executives, producers, collegues, members of crew. His whole career is based on pretending that what he's doing affects the public and keeps them company. And being successful and getting big viewing figures means you're popular with the everymen (and women) down in Bolton or something. Yet he *hates* the general public. Fantastic.

#steve coogan #alan partridge #i'm alan partridge

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imashoe69420 · 2 years

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Hi :) can You do rise boys or just Leo reacting to a fem reader wearing a toxedo (suit) because she don't like dresses?

Personally, I prefer a tux over a dress. So this’ll be easy for me to write lmao. I’ve been doing a few rise!bros x readers so I’ll do Leo x reader this time!

Also I made the reader gender-fluid but biologically female. I hope that’s ok :)

=========================

Suits > Dresses

Prompt: You and Leo make your own prom after not being asked to the dance at your school. Well… that was half the reason.

Pairing: Rise!Leo X GF!Reader

Pronouns: Feminine but gender-fluid (they/them/she/her)

Relationship: friends (somewhat dating at the end)

Timeline: Post!Movie

Warnings ⚠️: angst, gender dysphoria, mild language

========================

When you texted Leo saying that you wanted to make your own prom so him and his brothers could join, he took it as a challenge.

The only prom he’d seen was from the “coming-of-age” high school TV shows you’d force him to watch with you, so he knew to go loosely off of that. He needed the music, the kissing booth Photo Booth, the sparkly lights, and the dress.

You’d never talked about your sexuality or sexual orientation to Leo, fearing the conversation would be awkward or he wouldn’t understand or care. Some days, you felt like a boy. Other days, you felt like a girl. Sometimes, you were androgynous. It wasn’t something that you could control or ignore. It was a part of you, and sometimes that sucked.

Leo came over to help you pick out a tux for him and a dress for you online. He was extremely eager, pointing at every other dress commenting about how pretty and shimmery they were.

Sure, they were pretty and shimmery and would look good on anybody, but none of them stuck out to you. None of them made you feel… well, you.

“(Y/N), you would look so good in this one!” Leo tapped on a slim red dress. “C’mon, let’s get this one.”

You shrugged, laughing awkwardly. “That one? Isn’t it kinda…” your words trailed off.

“Kinda amazing! C’mon, c’mon, get that one.”

The turtle’s pleas eventually got you to buy the dress and his suit, but an uneasy feeling settled in your stomach.

Despite your appeasement, Leo could sense that something was wrong. Even though this had been your idea, you didn’t seem as excited about it as he was.

(Y/N) was a big question mark to him. But he didn’t mind that much. In fact, it’s one of the things that made him start to develop feelings for you. He enjoyed the mild switch-ups in your style and demeanor. He’d mentally guess what you’d look like when he arrived at your house, and he was usually wrong.

Nonetheless, he liked how your personality always stayed the same. You were always boisterous, your mind bouncing with crazy ridiculous plans and ideas.

Last week, the two of you built a makeshift amusement park in the sewers. A day or two after that, the two built a miniature chocolate factory from the iconic movie with real toothpaste lids you claimed you’d been collecting for six months.

Where did you get all of them? Leo didn’t ask. He was just happy that you were really passionate about something fun yet so intricate.

As soon as the sun set, the turtles began decorating your school rooftop. Raph set up the Photo Booth and concessions while Donnie set up the DJ booth. Mikey scattered rose petals and confetti on the floor and plastered his drawings along the photo booth wall and rooftop door entrance. All of them adorned a suit and tie associated to their designated colors. April—dressed in a bright green dress—supplied them with the camera.

Leo soon portaled onto the rooftop in a white dress shirt with blue dress pants, blazer, and bow tie. “Hey, hey, how’s it goin’, mis hermanos?”

The oldest of the turtles turned his head to smile at him. “Real good! Just some finishing touches and we should be good.”

After a minute of admiring his brothers’ hard work, a question popped into his mind.

“Mike,” he glanced at his younger brother, “where’s (Y/N)?”

The orange clad turtle shrugged as he threw a handful of glitter into the air, the substance landing on his attire. “She hasn’t texted any of us.”

That was strange.

Again, this was your idea, so why weren’t you here for it? Leo was somewhat frustrated, but gave you the benefit of the doubt. Maybe you were running late.

But you weren’t.

In reality, you’d been sitting on the foot of your bed staring down at the red dress in your lap for several minutes. Maybe half an hour. You weren’t sure, but you were sure that you didn’t want to wear that dress.

But you felt awful about it. One, because the dress was absolutely gorgeous, but not something you’d ever wear. Although your attire heavily depended on what area of gender dysphoria you’d be in, you were never attracted to dresses. In formal settings, you’d always preferred a suit and tie or at least a dress shirt and tie.

You finally stood up and set the dress on your bed. Ambling over to your closet, you pulled out the suit and tie set you’d been dying to wear. All it was was a regular black and white color scheme, but you felt your heart flutter at the sight of it.

This made you feel pretty. This made you feel seen.

“Hey,” Leo knocked on the glass of your bedroom window, “everything’s ready. Let’s get going before my bros eat all the concessions… which is just pizza. Maybe pizza was a bad idea.”

You stuffed the clothing back into your closet before letting him in. “Uh, yeah, I’m almost ready.”

Leo furrowed his would-be eyebrows at your clean face and large gray t-shirt draping over your body. “Doesn’t look it.” He lifted the dress off your bed and held it in front of himself. “Is it too small or something? Shit, we didn’t check the size before ordering it, did we?”

You faked a chuckle at his worries as you laid a hand against his shoulder. “No, Leo, it’s fine.”

“You sure?” The blue clad turtle sets the dress back on the bed. “You’ve been kinda weird the whole time we’d been planning this. Were you not serious about this or…?”

Ah, shit, now he’s upset, you thought. Now you had to explain your hesitation—“no, of course not. Get out so I can get dressed!”—or suck it up as per usual.

Leo’s confused expression turned into one of joy before he hopped out the window to give you privacy.

You didn’t want Leo to think you were weird. Especially Leo. You two did everything together.

He went with every idea you had no matter how crazy or nearly impossible it seemed. While in the middle of your theoretical rant, you’d notice him staring at you in a way you could only describe as entranced. You were never sure if he was entranced by you or the topics you could talk about for days, but you sure hoped it was you.

The only reason you bought that dress was because of him. He wanted to see you in it and that alone rose the temperature in your cheeks.

This was for him and him only.

~~~

You texted Leo asking his to form a portal from your bedroom to the rooftop. He obliged, the glowing blue circle appearing in front of you.

When you step through it, Leo, his brothers, and April are on the other side. The decor definitely wasn’t exactly what you envisioned, you loved that the group did all this over a meaningless text.

“This is so awesome, you guys.” You thanked them. “You’re some of the best friends I’ve ever had.”

The turtles and April cooed before pulling you into a group hug. House music soon begins to blare as Donnie mans the DJ booth. Bright lights strobed as you and the others jumped up and down in the beat of the music, screaming and chanting in joy.

As the night progressed, the songs slowly became quiet enough to hold a conversation. Leo caught you drinking from the punch bowl and decided to try his luck.

“I wouldn’t drink out of that if I were you.” He advised, a wide smirk on his face. “Who knows what’s in here?”

“He said inconspicuously.” You giggled. “Although, we all knew he had spiked the punch bowl.”

Leo sneered playfully. “You’ve been hanging out with Donnie too much.”

You shrugged as you poured a second helping of the translucent drink. “He says, jealousy distorting his features.”

The turtle sputtered, shocked by your allegations. “Jealous? Oh, hardly. I know I’m your favorite twin.”

With another shrug, the music changed into a slow song. Leo looked you up and down before smirking.

“You look incredible in that dress.”

To be honest, you’d forgotten you were wearing it until he pointed it out just now. Suddenly you felt dirty and uncomfortable with the way the tight-fitted material clung to your thighs. Why did he have to say that?

You tried your best to offer him a smile. “Well, you’re the one who picked it out. You have good taste.”

A look of worry washed over his face before returning to his signature cocky expression. “We should dance.”

He held out his hand towards you and you graciously took it. You wanted to do everything to again forget that the retched dress wasn’t sticking on you like a rubber glove.

The dance was conflicting. You hated the dress and the way it accentuated your curves, and it overall made you feel like somebody else. But the way Leo admired you as the two of you danced alongside your friends caused you to think that all the discomfort and dysphoria was worth it.

Even though you looked gorgeous, Leo couldn’t help but feel awful. He had seen you holding the suit when he approached your window. You gazed at it the way he’d ogled at the red dress. The turtle had somewhat known of your androgyny, but never pressed you about it in fear he was wrong and you just enjoyed both men and women’s clothing. But seeing you right now uncomfortable with the clothing he’d picked out for you broke his heart.

“Hey,” Leo murmured as you and his switched positions, your arms around his neck and his hands against your hips, “you—uhm, you can totally wear whatever you want.”

You shot a hopeful look up at him, surprised on how he found out. “Huh?”

“You can wear the tux if you want. It’s not gonna upset me if you do. I just want you to be comfortable.”

No one had ever told you that. No one had told you to change out of a dress and into a tux. Your parents constantly pushed you to solely embrace your femininity. It wasn’t that they were homophobic or transphobic or anything. They just didn’t understand because you’d never told them.

“No, Leo, it’s okay—” you attempted to deny his allegations, but he shook his head.

“Go put the tux on, (Y/N).” He let go of you before creating a portal back to your bedroom.

~~~

After portaling back to the party, everyone’s attention was drawn to you. There you were in the black and white tuxedo that didn’t cling to your skin or accentuate any part of your body you didn’t want to be prominent.

You felt like yourself.

The group cooed at you, complimenting your formal wear. You couldn’t feel more proud of your attire.

Leo smiled at you once the group dispersed and invited you back to the slow days. You agreed.

He simply couldn’t take his eyes off you. He thought you wouldn’t look as good as you did in the dress. Once again, he was dead wrong.

The turtle sighed benevolently. “You look even better.”

Heat soon raised to your cheeks at his comment. “Thanks… and thanks for letting me change. I know that dress meant a lot to you but—”

“It doesn’t mean as much to me as you do.” Leo admitted, gently squeezing your hips. “I’m sorry I wasn’t thinking about what you wanted. This was your idea and I didn’t let you have a say. I’m sorry for being a dickwad.”

You chuckled as you rested your head against his clothed plastron. “You’re not a dickwad. I think you look adorable in that suit. It’s strange seeing you in human clothes.”

He raised his would-be eyebrow. “Human clothes? As opposed to…?”

You loved the banter you’d get into with him, but this moment was too precious. Instead, you stood on your tippy-toes and pecked his cheek.

“Thanks for giving me the best prom ever.” You whispered.

Leo’s brain more or less short-circuited. He had daydreamed about this moment for weeks, but now that it was happening, he didn’t know what to do or say. The only thing he thought to do was pull you flush against his chest and murmur back.

“Anything for you.”

#fanfic #rottmnt #rottmnt fluff #rottmnt leo #rottmnt leo x reader #rottmnt donnie #rottmnt raph #rottmnt reader insert #x reader #rise leo #rise leo x reader #rottmnt fic #rottmnt oneshot

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crying-over-gay-dramas · 2 years

Text

this post will include major spoilers for My School President and Moonlight chicken, and sort of spoilers for Bad Buddy (I make a comparison). I also did not proofread this and wrote it all in one go without sleeping for a very long time so be warned.

Hello and welcome to me trying to articulate how and why I love every single detail of the My school President finale without sounding insane. This is going to be long so buckle in.

We'll start strong with the obvious which is their first kiss. We waited eleven episodes for them to kiss. They had all these super romantic moments, teasing us with the possibility of a kiss only for it to never happen UNTIL episode 12, the finale, when it happens without any notice, shocking myself and probably everyone else. It was unlike GMMTV's style who usually save the first kiss scene for some dramatic rooftop or beach. All that build up just for a brief peck for their first kiss? Perfection. It was so perfect for their dynamic and for the theme of the show itself. Think of all the things this show carries. First love, high school, dreams, friendship, romance. It's always been more on the innocent side, definitely the other side of the coin that is Never Let Me Go, another GMMTV BL that aired at the same time, with the same aged characters but with an entirely different vibe. That vibe, however, is what made this show really work. Because although it overall came off as innocent, it used that appearance to talk about some deeper things. But, I'll get to that later. Back to the kiss. GMMTV were truly genius for doing it the way they did. A lot of us were even convinced that they weren't going to kiss at all, especially after the scene in MoonLight Chicken from an episode aired only a day before the finale of My School President. The actors for Tin and Gunn, Gemini and Fourth, play characters in that show as well and in this episode they had their very first kiss together however due to camera angles we don't actually see it. That led us to beileve maybe these two actors just wouldn't be kissing in any of their shows, or at least not yet. So we went in to the finale either thinking they wouldn't kiss at all, or expecting a dramatic first kiss and we got neither. It was truly genius. And, as I said before it perfectly fit the theme of the show. It was exactly the style we've come to expect and love from TinGunn. Really fucking cute, for lack of better words. It also suited them because no matter how much those two managed to flirt, they still both were often awkward and flustered around each other so their first kiss being brief and in such a sudden moment fit them really well. It really was just so perfect. We didn't even need anything more in my opinion, but we got it anyways when later in the episode they do kiss more. Overall, it was really something that stood out to me and I loved how it ended up playing out. Physical touch has always been such a big part of TinnGun's relationship and development, and this was really just the pinnacle.

The Prom MV. The PROM MV. A small scene, hardly important to the story right? WRONG. The Prom MV not only provided us with some much appreciated jealous Gun which we love and missed from around ep 6 or 7 I beileve when he tares Tinn away from some girls who were flirting with him (before they had even admitted their feelings to each other I might add) but it also was a very sly method from GMMTV to insert some social commentary, something they've loved doing ever since Not Me. Tiw, apologizes to Tinn and Gun, telling them he asked for the MV to have a "BL" couple but they refused. They go on to show that Tinn's Co-star in the MV has a girlfriend, watching her on the side lines much like Gun is watching Tinn. This implies that the school board had unknowingly put into action an MV starring a gay man and a lesbian (assumed, not confirmed) playing a couple. All of this speaks volumes towards heteronormativity and gender roles and how society, specifically Thailand society in this case, but also everywhere, sees queer people. They'd rather place together a man and a woman who have zero attraction to each other than a man and a man or a woman and a woman who do. Although the message itself was serious, GMMTV still kept it light for the theme of the show, having Gun be jealous of Tinn and the girl in the MV, even pinching Tiw and telling him to yell cut, a detail we all loved. That's one thing that I really admired as I briefly mentioned earlier. The way they were able to insert more serious themes into the show without moving too far from the overall innocent and light hearted vibe.

That being said, GMMTV did let it get serious sometimes, in a way that was very well done. Besides the finale, they had plotlines that cast a more darker tone to the series, such as Gun struggling with feelings of self worth, and failure and his mother getting sick. I won't touch on that much, as I'm trying to focus on the finale here. For the finale, they had a very important scene where Tinn and Gun overhear two of their teachers saying bad things about them, regarding their relationship. This is what we can assume to be both of their times first experiencing strong homophobia directly. For it to come from a teacher as well, one they had respected was incredibly difficult. They don't sugarcoat this part of the episode. They don't give the teacher a redemption arc. Throughout the scene, the teacher holds their views and is shown as what some people are, simply just assholes. This was so important to the series, and important to the show overall, for the message and for the characters. Through this scene we get to see several different characters and their own reactions to Tinn and Gun, theirs being positive. Tinn's junior in his club as well as his mother both stand up foe them against the teacher. It's an emotional scene (that might have made me cry) and really shows you two sides to a very real and much bigger picture. Some people will only be filled with hate, and it can come from anyone. Even someone we trust. But among the hate there will always be those who will stay by your side, and some might surprise you. It's important to stand up for yourself and for whoever you love, to be proud of yourself and not to listen to anyone who tells you to be anything other than what you are. It was a beautiful and very important message and lesson for TinnGun and for us viewers.

Okay, enough being serious for a sec. Now we are going to discuss some of the smaller cuter details I appreciated. Gun officially meeting Tinn's parents as his boyfriend and the dynamic between them matching the already developed characters types of the parents. Tinn's dad being open and friendly, excitingly sharing his shared interest in music with Gun. Gun calling him dad and being nervous but comfortable around him. Tinn's mom telling Gun to call her Aunt instead of mom and her husband teasing her for it. Her staying somewhat distant from the situation yet letting things progress naturally and standing by when she usually would have interfered. It showed great character growth on her part, beyond of course what already occurred with her choosing her son over her career (We'll talk more about that later)

Let's talk about Prom. One thing I liked a lot is how Gun pulled Tinn on stage. It wasn't just romantic and very cute, but it was significant to Tinn and his development. If we look back to episode, 4 or 5 I think? Tinn tells Gun that his worst memory is when as a kid he was meant to sing on stage but forgot the lyrics. He'd been too afraid to sing since. He does sing, however in a previous episode with Gun on stage to support him when he was tired. That already showed how his love for Gun could overpower any previous fear he'd had and make himself stronger and more brave. This scene continues that theme and is important also for the fact that Tinn's mom was there to witness it. In a previous episode when she asks Gun about Tinn she found out that Tinn had sung with Gun and she is surprised. Showing again that Tinn didn't tell her things, or share things with her, much like he never shared with her his crush on Gun. But with this scene, she is there to see it herself. Tinn on stage, quietly singing along with his boyfriend. She's seeing the side to him she never was able to see, one she is finally able to see because she stopped being scared and opener herself up to getting to know her son beyond what she wanted from him.

And here comes, what I mentioned earlier. This very same scene, there is once again some discourse among the teachers about Tinn and Gun's relationship. As was shown and said earlier, she'd been put in a tough position as soon as the pictures of the two had spread, getting calls and complaints from others about the "image" it was giving the school she worked so hard to run. It's made clear from episode one how important it is to her to run the school and maintain what she worked so hard to get. However, in this episode she chooses her son. Not only does she choose her son, but she chooses her morals. We don't see the woman who denied our favorite high school band to perform again and again, but instead we see the woman who wants to run a school where her son, and anyone, can love who they want. I really enjoyed seeing that character development from her, although to me it seems it was always there. It wasn't entirely her that changed, but our perception of her and Tinn's perception of her and I think that was a really smart move on the part of the writers.

One smaller detail I want to mention is the scene where the Chinzilla members are all waiting together to find out their college/future plan results. The scene was much like one from a previous episode, when they waited to find out the winner of the contestant they had tried so hard to be. In the previous scene they are all met with disappointment. It's a very important moment for all of them and continues to follow the theme of youth and dreams. In that case, their dream didn't come true. In life, that is often the case. We don't always get what we want no matter how hard we try. That taught a tough lesson. However, in this later scene they follow that up with a positive tone. Gun finds that he was accepted and the group hugs and celebrates. It's a direct contrast to their previous disappointment and it really gave such a nice, although possibly corny message that you should never give up on your dreams and even if something doesn't work out, there's ways something else that will.

This next one I usually never ever talk about because I don't like it, so the fact that I'm not only okay with bringing it up, but okay that it even happened speaks wonders about how highly I thought of this finale. TinnGun versus GunTinn. I hate this. Like really really hate whenever this is brought up in a BL. It's stupid and it always opens up room for what we all know is a very real issue in the consumption of mlm media. Fetishization. You aren't truly a BL fan until you've been made very uncomfortable by someone discussing which of your favorite characters… yeah. So whenever this is brought up in a BL, even in a joking manner, I hate it. But I just couldn't hate it this time. Because once again, they did it so well. As usual, it was brought up by other people. Their classmates' curiosity and rather selfish need to pry into their business (in my opinion) brought up the subject. But it didn't result in anything weird, for lack of a better word. In fact it was sweet and even funny. It perfectly fit Tinn and Gun, and did show a little bit more of maturity on their part since the show has maintained a rather innocent feel around their relationship. Gun doesn't even know what the order means and Tinn has to tell him. He whispers it to him right there in the hallway and it's the cutest fucking thing. And instead of awkwardness or toxic arguments (I'm looking at you, My Engineer) it turned into teasing and gave the entire argument I've grown so tired of from BL, a light hearted tone. For once, I didn't feel uncomfortable or like they were making it some weird reference to the sick interest of fans (too harsh? Maybe. But idc) but it really felt like it was about TinnGun and their dynamic and it was just really fucking cute, there's no other way to describe it. What is also good about it, is often when BL do have that argument they will reveal which way it is one way or another, and it's just such a weird thing that they feel the need to do that. If it's a scene where they are like actually showing it, fine whatever I guess. but when they talk about it after the fact and make a point of making it clear what happened is so weird to me. Even Bad Buddy did that. I hated that scene in Bad Buddy. It took away some of my enjoyment from the show. My point is, MSP didn't do that and I appreciated that. Because it really doesn't matter, so shut the fuck up and srop being weird and trying to force gender roles on gay relationships.

Those were my main points but there are so many more details I could discuss. A lot of the focus being on Gun and his friends rather than the whole episode being about TinnGun and how important that is to Gun's character and to the show. How their support for Gun when the photos appeared online was a huge deal.

All the small references to previous events such as Tinn's dad buying a new guitar after Tinn gave Gun hid and Gun almost revealing it to him on accident. It gave such small and not entirely necessary, but very cute and funny background on previous events, tying it all together. These details also really helped the series to feel more full and real. A living and breathing story, rather than words on a script.

The entire series and especially that finale was just so well done and I can't believe such amazing work came from a silly little romance about a singer and his school president boyfriend. Except I can, because that silly little vibe is exactly how it was able to create something like this. I'm so grateful for this series and I'm so so so so sad to see it end but the end truly was perfect.

If you have read all of this… you are as obsessed as me, huh?

#my school president #tinngun #Gmmtv #thai bl #bl drama

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triviareads · 1 year

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ARC Review of A Holly Jolly Ever After by Julie Murphy and Sierra Simone

Premise:

Winnie Baker, a former child star with no career prospects after her divorce, is tapped to play the lead in a Hope Channel (After Dark) Christmas movie alongside former boybander and current pizza franchise owner Kallum Lieberman, who will be playing a sexy Santa Claus. The problem is, Winnie has no idea how to go about being sexy on camera...

My review:

I loved the concept of an inadvertently sexy Hallmark movie in A Merry Little Meet Cute, and it seems so did the world at large because now Hope Channel is putting out a softcore Santa biopic (complete with magical peppermint cum) which I think is just inspired.

Winnie grew up in a conservative, Christian environment and was a child star which resulted in her loved ones and the media expecting her to maintain this perfect, god-honoring image. She's recovering from purity culture and has never experienced sexual pleasure due to internalized shame and one terrible partner. Enter Kallum, serial bridesmaid fucker and fresh from a leaked (and later licensed) sex-tape. After an awkward fake orgasm on set, Winnie requests sex lessons from Kallum at first to find her own pleasure, and then it rapidly evolves into them hooking up on the reg.

Similar to Winnie's sexual awakening, she also has this moment of questioning the compulsory heterosexuality she was raised with (at a Christmas-themed strip club lol), and while it didn't go much further than that, I did like the call out.

I liked Kallum more than I was expecting. I'm not usually a fan of himbo heroes, but his easygoing nature and unconditional acceptance of Winnie as she is was lovely to read. He's never infantilized the way some heroes of this persuasion are; a decent portion of the narrative is about him learning to own up to shit he wouldn't have in the past. I also liked the dad bod rep— body diversity in heroes is even rarer than with heroines, so reading about a man who is big, has a belly, and can absolutely get it was a nice change of pace.

I really liked the friendship between Kallum, Nolan, and Isaac. Male friendships is something I don't see often in romance novels. They've been through a lot and are often separated from each other, but they still have the kind of relationship that allows them to hit each other up after months of no communication, and then an hour later they're crying together about unrequited love.

In terms of conflict, I was on the edge of my seat for most of the second half waiting for the ex-husband or Winnie's uber-conservative parents to fuck shit up, but what we got instead was this really interesting moment of delayed uncertainty on Winnie's part regarding the suitability of Kallum as a long-term partner. I wasn't entirely sold on the inciting incident that caused Winnie's doubts, but it felt like such a valid fear and overall, Sierra and Julie did a good job of exploring the potential perils of a himbo partner.

The sex:

I loved reading about Winnie experimenting with masturbation and figuring out what worked for her. It was written in a way that was curious and joyful despite her delayed sexual exploration thanks to being entrenched in purity culture for so long. Basically, the Peppermint Stick vibrator was the gingerbread-scented hand lotion of this book (iykyk).

And once Winnie finally gets going, she and Kallum can't be stopped. There's a subtle emphasis on p-in-v sex not being the be-all-end-all (or a given, at first) which kinda fit the vibe of Winnie's almost high school-esque sexual experimentation with Kallum. Later on, there is, in fact, the rare contemporary romance butt stuff (do I think there should have been pegging at some point? perhaps).

Overall:

I had a lot of fun reading this Christmas-themed romance! It was sweet and sexy, and I look forward to reading the next book which I'm guessing is about Tragic Widower Who Assumes His Late Wife Wanted Him To Have That Threesome, Isaac Kelly.

Thank you to Avon and Harper Voyager and NetGalley for an advanced copy of this book in exchange for my review.

#arc #arc review #netgalley #sierra simone #julie murphy #contemporary romance #avon books #avon #Harper Voyager #romance novels

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marypsue · 2 years

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movie references in the road goes ever on

When I set out to write the road goes ever on, also affectionately known on this blog as ‘the monster longfic’, I did so with the goal in mind of making it as closely resemble an actual season of Stranger Things as I could. Part of the genetic makeup of a season of Stranger Things, though, is shot-for-shot recreations of scenes from classic movies of the era, something that was a little difficult to do in text. So...I got creative.

I threatened to do this once, and now it’s a reality. Here’s a list of every deliberate movie reference I can remember making in the fic. I may have missed one or two, since it’s been a while since I actually wrote it; if you spot something you think is a reference, it was definitely on purpose and deliberate and I will be taking all the credit for it, thank you.

Chapter One: Phone Home

The title of this chapter is, obviously, lifted from Steven Spielberg’s E.T. The Extraterrestrial (1982).

“You look like shit,” Steve says, and Robin flings the empty plastic case for Invasion of the Body Snatchers at his head.

...

It takes the girl who’s walked in what feels like hours to pick a movie. In the end, she rents Sixteen Candles and maybe flirts with Steve a little bit while he checks the movie out for her.

Do namedrops count? Season four said namedrops count, and I’ll take every opportunity I can steal from season four. That bitch owes me.

Jonathan grabs the empty fourth seat, across the table from his mom, and pulls a white paper carton towards him at random. “This smells great. Thanks.” He peers into the box. “What’s this?”

“Maggots,” Will says, innocently.

I lifted this gag directly from The Lost Boys (1987), which was a big inspiration for this fic and probably the movie I referenced the most. It doesn’t work quite as well when the person with the takeout carton of rice isn’t being hypnotised into seeing maggots, but oh well.

“I hear the new high school has a much nicer darkroom…”

“My whole life is a dark room,” Jonathan mutters to his ginger beef.

And this iconic line was, of course, stolen from Beetlejuice (1988). I made a post after my first watch of Stranger Things about how we all make fun of Jonathan for being an overdramatic emo, but if it had actually come out in the 80s he would be right up there in black and white gifs of the ‘I don’t like most people’ scene on all the goth blogs right beside Lydia quipping that she’s strange and unusual, so. Like mother, like son.

Chapter Two: Splitting the Party

“I’d rather have El back,” Mike says, setting his rifle against his shoulder and sighting down it. He fires, once, twice, three times in quick succession. Points scroll up across the screen.

I stuck this Duck Hunt video game into the Palace Arcade because I saw it in The Karate Kid (1984), so I’m counting this as an 80s movie reference.

Robin shakes her head again, waits a moment for the headrush to pass, then unties her Chucks and kicks them onto the floor. She doesn’t bother to take her sunglasses off, just collapses backwards onto her bed –

- and into shallow water.

In the camera of my imagination, this bit is shot in reference to that one scene in The Lost Boys where Michael drops off the trestle bridge and it transitions via superimposition to him lying across his bed at an awkward angle with his Wayfarers on. You may notice this is part of a pattern.

Chapter Three: Sleep All Day, Party All Night

This chapter’s title comes from the tagline for The Lost Boys. The full line is “Sleep all day. Party all night. It’s fun to be a vampire.” I picked it because this chapter is the motherlode of The Lost Boys references, and also because it introduces a nighttime meeting of the Party, so it’s also a bad pun.

“I knew I shouldn’t have let you all watch that movie last night. You weren’t even supposed to see Fright Night! You and your friends all bought tickets for Follow That Bird!”

More namedrops - Fright Night (1985) is (imo) the inferior 80s teen-vampire-hunters horror-comedy, and Follow That Bird (1985) was a Sesame Street big-screen offering featuring Big Bird.

“I’ll keep it in mind,” Samantha says. “So. All I know about you is that you’re into photography, you’re a high school senior, and you have a little brother. Oh, and you’re capable of identifying Siouxsie Sioux by sight, you don’t like roller skating, and you prefer Evil Dead to French arthouse. What other essential Jonathan Byers facts should I know?”

Does it count to namedrop Sam Raimi’s The Evil Dead (1981) if it’s already shown up onscreen? I say yes.

“Maybe we should just have him over for dinner,” Lucas suggests, as Erica takes cloves of garlic out of the jar on the counter. “Make Italian. Grate some garlic, tell him it’s parmesan.”

Another gag from The Lost Boys, as is Lucas’ vampire-hunting getup in this same scene. He seemed like the most likely character to dress up like a Frog brother. I owe Joel Schumacher for the idea of water pistols full of holy water, too.

Samantha’s nodding, still with that too-knowing look. “Sure. Sure. Way more to it than some Revenge of the Nerds fantasy. Got it.”

“The sarcasm is not appreciated,” Jonathan says, and Samantha laughs again.

I didn’t love Revenge of the Nerds (1984), but you gotta admit, it and Jonathan/Nancy most likely came from the same sort of inspiration (disgruntled nerd boys from the 80s who couldn’t get a date with a ‘popular’ girl).

“Bet that burns, huh? Nosferatu?”

“What? No, it’s -” Steve shakes off his now-wet hand, feeling a little like he’s lost the plot. “Freezing. [...]”

I took this dialogue directly from The Lost Boys - actually, from the very dinner party scene where the teenage vampire hunters feed the suspected vampire grated garlic and tell him it’s parmesan.

“Oh no you don’t,” Erica says. “You are not leaving me alone with Eddie Munster.”

This works on two levels - it’s a namedrop from TV’s The Munsters (1964-1966), and it also nods to another line of dialogue from The Lost Boys, where one of the teenage vampire hunters refers to a child vampire freaking out at them as ‘the attack of Eddie Munster’. This is a reminder that this part of the fic was drafted before the second s4 teaser dropped; I’m pretty sure the Duffers and I just went to the same well on this one. (Tangentially related, but have I mentioned why I’m pretty sure Chrissy’s name is a reference to Stephen King’s Christine?)

Robin drops Firestarter back into its black plastic video-store-issue case, and grabs the next tape off the stack to rewind. If people would just rewind their own tapes when they were finished with them – well, maybe she wouldn’t have a job. But still.

Psychic. If she was psychic, would Robin really be working at some shitty minimum-wage job, mindlessly rewinding tapes and straightening shelves and keeping twelve-year-olds from renting Animal House – all right, not really trying all that hard to keep twelve-year-olds from renting Animal House, sue her - and trying not to drop dead of abject boredom?

...

She drops E.T. into the rewinder and starts it up, before picking up Firestarter and heading out to find its rightful place on the shelves.

More namedrops! We’ve seen Firestarter (1984) get a nod in the show already, in a poster outside Family Video in the epilogue of s3, and obviously E.T. was one of the major inspirations for Stranger Things. I tried to make sure all the movies that were referenced by name in the video store had some kind of thematic or plot relevance to whatever was going on at the time they were namedropped, although Animal House (1978) kind of breaks that pattern.

Chapter Four: 10-4

This chapter’s a little light on movie references, but I did sneak in one piece of dialogue I lifted from Labyrinth (1986):

“If you need us -” Mick starts, and Kali smiles.

“I’ll call.”

Chapter Five: Man’s Best Friend

Mike doesn’t answer. Mike’s busy staring at the boarded-up main door leading into the lab.

And the two guys in blue coveralls who’ve just come out of it.

Since all the costuming’s in the reader’s mind’s eye, I could easily tell you these #lewks were meant to be modelled off Michael Myers or Hannibal Lecter, but...nah, no, that’s exactly what I’m going to tell you. Just try and prove otherwise.

The creature gives a curious rumble. Robin forces herself not to move as it drops forward onto its knuckles, and pushes its head forward.

Into her hand.

Wrong era of movies, obviously, but I’d be remiss if I didn’t at least acknowledge the obvious influence of How to Train Your Dragon (2010) on this scene.

“Dart. And -” Dustin gestures with both hands towards the creature. “Gizmo!” He pauses, turning to give the creature a long look. “Yep, you’re definitely a Gizmo.”

The newly-christened Gizmo clicks at him, but Robin puts a hand on its flank and it settles.

“Yeah, yeah. Just make sure you don’t feed it after midnight,” Steve says.

Gizmo is, of course, named after the friendly little monster from Gremlins (1984). What can I say, it seemed appropriate.

Joyce doesn’t find anything out of the ordinary, though. A chequebook. A wallet, with a Michigan driver’s license and a few credit cards in the name of Rhonda Williams, with a slightly younger Rhonda’s face smiling from them.

It is extremely not obvious at all, but Rhonda’s last name is another nod to Labyrinth.

Chapter Six: The Swarm

“Evil Ed,” Erica says, with a pointed stare at Lucas.

“Erica. Seriously. It’s not vampires.”

Erica is, of course, referring to a secondary character in Fright Night, who actually, believe it or not, got the ‘Evil’ part of his nickname before all the vampires even showed up.

“Who are you going to call from a pay phone?” Nancy asks, with this kind of pissed-off smile.

“The Ghostbusters,” Mike deadpans.

...

A note of hope works its way into her sarcasm as she says, “Unless that was all a horrible fever dream and that’s not actually a giant monster and I’m not actually telekinetic and covered in blood like a bad Carrie ripoff?”

“Sorry,” Steve says. “You’re still giving Sissy Spacek a run for her money.”

We’re still counting namedrops. Because I said so.

“Jesus Christ, Nancy!” Lucas calls from the backseat. There’s an edge of panic in it. “Pull off!”

[...]

Nancy lets out a long breath, her shoulders slumping. She says, “I won,” like she can’t believe it.

This passage, dialogue and all, was lifted straight from Stand By Me (1986). In the camera of my imagination, it’s a shot-for-shot recreation of the street racing scene.

“[...] And it never hurts to have a smoking gun.”

This fic’s version of the Hellfire Club was heavily inspired by The X-Files’ Smoking Gun. Obviously The X-Files is a TV show, not a movie, and it’s from the 90s, but I’m still including it here because I was very proud of myself for sneaking in a dialogue reference even though the show didn’t exist yet at the time the fic’s set.

Unlike Dustin, the giant, horrifying monster currently wearing – yep, those are Robin’s Wayfarers – at least has the decency to seem embarrassed.

Steve stands there with his hands on his hips and looks Gizmo – and the blue windbreaker and unconvincing curly grey-brown toupee it’s wearing – up and down. “No. Nope. That’s never gonna work,” he says.

Gizmo’s incredibly convincing disguise is a direct visual reference to the way the protagonists disguise Bernie’s corpse in Weekend at Bernie’s (1989). Gizmo’s just lucky that Dustin didn’t try to staple the toupee to its head.

“Okay, well, you guys come up with a brilliant plan to sneak him out of here, then! Because the whole town is crawling with feds, and he’s a little big to throw a blanket over and stick in a bike basket!”

Dustin’s obviously referencing E.T. here. And here:

“Don’t give me that look. I’ve seen E.T., I’ve seen Escape to Witch Mountain, I’ve ridden this carnival ride before. I know how this goes.”

Escape to Witch Mountain (1975) is about a pair of psychic twins who’re being hunted by people who want to use their powers. The psychics turn out to actually be aliens. As you can see, it’s slightly relevant.

Samantha taps her foot against the floor. “It’s still missing something.”

“Try this.” Will passes her the hat. It’s a huge, black cartwheel, with fabric bunched up around the crown. When Samantha settles it on El’s head, she unfolds the fabric, draping rose-patterned black lace over El’s face. If the makeup alone hadn’t made her unrecognizable, the makeup under the lace veil is definitely doing the trick.

“Yeah, I wouldn’t even know it was you under there,” Jonathan says.

El grins wider, pushing back the veil, and grabs her Polaroid camera off the dresser, holding it up to her eye to snap a picture of herself in the mirror.

Samantha grins, too, studying her handiwork. “Strange and unusual. Perfect.” She looks up at Will. “Where’d you find that hat?”

Will shrugs. “My mom had it in the back of her closet with a bunch of old stuff.”

Another visual reference. Sadly, they’re difficult to make work in text. This is Lydia’s introductory outfit from Beetlejuice, with the rose-lace veil from the scene with the line ‘My whole life is a dark room’. In the camera of my imagination, when El holds up the Polaroid instant camera, it’s a nod to the shot where Lydia first sees the Maitlands looking out of the attic window. The hat was found in the back of Joyce’s closet because Winona Ryder plays both her and Lydia, and I’m clever and hilarious. Obviously.

Steve glowers at her. Unfortunately for him, Robin knows that, of the three fistfights he’s gotten himself into ever, he’s lost two of them, and the only one he’d won was against Russia’s answer to the Keystone Kops. She can take him.

The Keystone Kops were the stars of a series of silent slapstick comedies in the early 1910s, and their bumbling, overenergetic, exaggerated reactions and general incompetence have been much imitated on film ever since.

Robin has to agree with him.

“Toto,” she says, turning in a slow circle, “we are definitely not in Kansas anymore.”

You all recognise The Wizard of Oz (1939), right? Yeah you do.

Sam leans closer. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Murray doing the same. The screen’s actinic glare throws a sickly light on all of their faces as the four of them crowd in to read.

Does it count if the shot I’m recreating in my mind’s eye is from season 2 of the very show I’m writing fanfiction for? Because I imagined this as a funhouse-mirror version of that shot of the Party from the perspective looking up from the screen of the Dragon’s Lair game from s2e1.

Robin shoots him a look. “Unless your monster buddy can E.T. these bikes into the air, we’re not going any farther along this street.”

...

“Come on, pal, get your head in the game.” He immediately ruins it by glancing back over his shoulder and then adding, like this is some normal bullshit conversation about comic books or girls or whether the Terminator could beat the Alien, “Because if you don’t, we’re all gonna die. Again, no pressure.”

Namedrops!

Chapter Seven: The Rainbow Connection

The song ‘The Rainbow Connection’ came from The Muppet Movie (1979), so I’m counting it.

(this town is so small it only has Cantonese, she has to go all the way to Indianapolis for an edible Szechuan)

I based this version of Steve’s mom on Delia Deetz from Beetlejuice, and stole this complaint right out of Delia’s mouth.

“Really?” Jonathan raises a terrifyingly black-pencilled eyebrow at her. “I was thinking more Robert Smith. Or maybe Frank N. Furter.”

Of course Jonathan Byers has seen The Rocky Horror Picture Show (1975). And of course so has Robin Buckley. I’m right.

“[...]Wouldn’t you want to see what kind of results you’re going to get before you go shooting yourself full of monster juice and hoping it’ll give you superpowers and not just, like, melt you down into a blob or give you a fly head or turn you into a giant uncontrollable green rage monster or whatever?”

Okay, technically, David Cronenberg’s remake of The Fly (1958) didn’t come out until 1986, but I wouldn’t be surprised if Dustin had caught the original on a late-night creature feature.

“So you have to get rid of this – mind flayer – before E.T. here can phone home?” Kali asks.

Listen, I never said I had a wide breadth of movie references. Just that there were a lot of them.

Chapter Eight: Project Unicorn

“You know, there’s one thing about living in Hawkins that I just can’t stomach,” Scott says. “All the -” He looks down, into the glare the girl – she can’t be more than ten – still has fixed on him. “Darn feds.”

One of the first things I knew when I set out to write this fic was that I had to put a paraphrase of the final line from The Lost Boys in Scott Clarke’s mouth.

Max’s smile is vicious and victorious and maybe the most beautiful thing Lucas has ever seen. “Maybe you should be asking yourself: do I feel lucky?”

The guy stops himself almost as soon as he starts to move, but Lucas doesn’t miss the way he starts to turn his head to look back at the door. He must be wondering, too, where his army of big guys with big weapons are. Why they haven’t come bursting in to rescue him yet.

Max gives the gun a little waggle. “Well? Do you?”

And yes, I do have Max quoting the most famously misremembered line from Dirty Harry (1971). An earlier draft of the fic actually had Lucas bring it up, later, but I cut it because it didn’t work.

Robin presses on. She’s seen It’s A Wonderful Life. She’s totally got this.

...

“[...] You’d have all the same problems – well, okay, not the giant monsters and Bond villains problems, but the other ones, about the future. And you never would’ve gotten to know any of us. You’d be all on your own.”

Namedrops!

“You bastards! You bastards, you killed my sister! You killed my sister! You shit-sucking, evil – You killed her! Nancy!”

This one might be a bit of a stretch, but The Lost Boys remains the only place I’ve ever actually heard someone use ‘shit-sucking’ as an insult.

A blunt, blind little knob of a head pokes up out of the gory mess that was Billy’s chest, glistening obscenely under the flickering lights.

Yeah it’s the chestburster scene from Alien (1979), and you know it.

Chapter Nine: The Fellowship of the Gate

“Son of a bitch!” Dustin gasps, flinging the first of the makeshift acid bombs. It bursts against the floor just in front of the leading edge of the swarm, spattering holes in the concrete and the advancing monster squad both.

I’m counting this as a namedrop for The Monster Squad (1987) because I used this specific phrasing on purpose.

“Okay,” Robin says to herself, looking all around her. She still can’t see anyone – or anything – that might be watching her. Only the endless, indistinguishable dark. “Kind of short on ruby slippers, here.”

Jokes referencing The Wizard of Oz are gimmes, but hey.

I did model El’s confrontation with Brenner in the mindscape after the climactic scene of Labyrinth, though I’m not sure it’s obvious.

Not that it seems like it cares, Jesus, is he trying to fight the Terminator here?

Naaaamedrops.

And, kneeling on the roof a few feet away, forehead pressed to forehead, clinging to each other like they’re each the only thing holding the other up –

Again, wrong era of movies, but I stole this visual from the denouement of Pacific Rim (2013). It seemed thematically appropriate.

“Steve, you look like hell.”

“Yeah, no shit, douchebag, I just got back.”

Slightly modified this dialogue from Heathers (1989). I also wanted to give Joyce an adapted line of Veronica’s (”Karen, my love, there’s a new police chief in town”) but unfortunately couldn’t make it fit.

When she mentions that to Steve, though, he just shrugs and says, “That’s the way it crumbles, cookie-wise,” and any disappointment Robin might have felt immediately goes straight out the window.

“Dingus! You actually watched The Apartment?”

The Apartment (1960) came up on TCM the New Year’s Eve of the year I first bingewatched Stranger Things seasons 1-3. Serendipity is real.

Steve looks so blindsided that Robin has to magnanimously offer, “We can even double feature with Star Wars, if you want. You know, the one with the teddy bears.”

Namedrops!

“Scared you’re gonna miss a code red?” Erica needles at him, and Lucas can’t help a disbelieving stare in her direction.

“Says the fearless vampire killer.”

I haven’t actually seen The Fearless Vampire Killers, or Pardon Me, But Your Teeth Are In My Neck (1967), but it has the best title in horror-comedy history.

“No way. You dorks are not depriving me of the chance to drop Mike in a bog of eternal stench. Not after Lucas made me waste a whole Saturday afternoon rolling this character.”

The Bog of Eternal Stench is, obviously, from Labyrinth.

“Jesus, Buckley,” Steve says, not bothering to try to hide how impressed he is. “At this rate you’ll be back to re-enacting Carrie by Christmas.”

And one last namedrop to wrap this roundup up!

By my count, that makes an even 60 references! (Even if I had to fudge a couple of those just a tiny little bit.)

#this is mary's fic tag #was this an excuse to reread my own fanfiction? what of it #i had a Lot of fun smuggling some of these into the fic

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thesinglesjukebox · 10 months

Text

ADDISON RAE - "I GOT IT BAD"

youtube

Next up, Oliver brings us a star who rose to fame from the unlikely medium of (checks notes)... TikTok!

[5.28]

Brad Shoup: This is so Swedish it hurts. It sounds like a 2020s producer trying to make a 2000s hit using a 1980s suggestiveness. It's uncanny. I like it. [6]

Oliver Maier: Some obvious Britneyisms at play here: the punctuative orchestra hits, the B-chorus near the end and the siren at the very beginning, as if Rae is literally sounding the alarm about this dangerous boy. She's blowing bubblegum on the EP cover; the genre influence is not subtle. It works though, in part because Rae winks at the camera just the right amount. There's levity when she sings "He looks like the boy next door from my boyband poster," stacking two outdated pop culture tropes on top of each other and almost rendering the whole thing pointless, but she never prods hard enough it to collapse into pastiche. The horned-up glee of a line like "It's definitely something that could ruin my life" would have been subtext about 20 years ago, but now that's just a thing we invite people to do (incidentally, the track after this one on the EP is called "2 Die 4"). There's plenty else to enjoy in the lyrics besides all that, like the in media res opening line and the way she sings "He calls on me late at night, and he calls me baby," her voice dripping with pride at earning such an accolade. But the most impressive thing to me about "I Got It Bad" is that it obviously apes a vibe without being overtly, offputtingly cynical, because the the songcraft is fucking there: a glossy, 500-horsepower instrumental where you can barely discern an instrument and a big fat chorus. Delightful stuff. [9]

Frank Falisi: Nominally, the nostalgic urge is anathema to the writing of pop songs; how can something be the most monolithic feeling you've ever felt -- and the only song your head's ever managed -- if you're remembering something else? The pureness of plastic is how it can be melted down to cover old things and if it leaves a tacky taste in the mouth, it's only after the song ends, which is to say, after the pop. You could say that "I Got It Bad" references, however obliquely, a certain millennium-break sound-strand: the production is visible, busy but submissive, never invisible but an apparatus that produces the voice as much as the vocal cords. Even more so, 2002 haunts the way the personal pronoun dominates the territory of the song, from the verse's aspiration to ascension (love or lust, or somewhere on the way) to the divinity of a pre-chorus: "Take off every piece of me/until there's only skin on my body." Who's who? Addison Rae is different from Addison in the same way Britney Spears is different from Britney. The former are screens and their signifiers, the latter the heat bodies give off, intake, machinate. "I" signifies a space between the singer and the listener, a space that only happens in the duration between the start of the sound and its end. Will we ever be able to remember the start of this sound without saying the words "Britney Spears"? Or is that part of the song ending: once the feeling severs, we're left only with the ache. Restart the song or re-find the sound, it's all relative. I got it bad. [8]

Rose Stuart: This song violently throws you back to the 2000s, when every Disney star tried their hand at being a pop diva with lyrics sexy enough to remind you the singer is now a grown woman, but with vocals kept squeaky clean lest some emotion trick you into thinking the singer was actually into it. Everything -- from the beat to Rae's singing -- sounds both awkward and bored, sliding off your brain like an advertisement's first draft. [3]

Vikram Joseph: This is what you've all been hyping? This particular iteration of "You won't believe this but I have bad taste in men!" in a year where we had Olivia Rodrigo? I mean, this is so competently executed and so utterly devoid of personality, I really could not pick this out of a line-up. With a gun to my head to name an interesting thing about this song I'd go for the early Britney cosplay in the delivery of "ruin my li-i-uh-ife", or then again I might just gamble that it wasn't loaded. [3]

Will Rivitz: I've been only partly plugged into Extremely Online pop chatter the last few years, so forgive me if I'm not currently fluent enough in its current morphology to know whether or not this is a silly question: are we serious about Addison Rae? Like, yes, I get that there's been an unceasing stream of SHE ATEs since the EP dropped, and I also get that sometimes we support camp simply for camp's sake, and I also get that some of these people unironically go to bat for Sabrina Carpenter, so please be sympathetic to my inability to parse the semiotics of this past summer. Because the EP is indisputably mid as hell! Every song is a flimsy facsimile of a different recently relevant pop girl, the lyrics read like they were written by an AI trained on Netflix-reject teen romcom scripts, and somehow everything ends up sludging out into Disney's pop bargain bin. "I Got It Bad," naturally, is no different, a forgotten *NSYNC demo spruced up by Kim Petras's producers in which every verse has about five percent too many words and a syllable or two delivered as though Rae only realized two lines didn't rhyme halfway through the second. Rae doesn't have the juice to land tricky constructions like "take off every piece of me/until there's only SKIN on MY boDY" (is your skin not a piece of you? Are you wearing someone else's???) or the pacing to make "definitely something that could ruin my life" sound like she's delivering the words in her 20s. I love oodles of popstars who Do Not Have The Range, but Addison Rae so remarkably Does Not Have The Range that the Not Range is impossible to ignore. What gives! [3]

Will Adams: I have little interest in indulging the "um you guys Addison Rae's music actually kinda slays??" bit as much as it attempts to grab me (look! a Charli feature! an exhumed Gaga demo!). But it's hard to resist the charm of "I Got It Bad". The Max Martinisms are off the charts -- orchestra hits, alternate final chorus, the "it's gonna, gonna gonna" vocal stacking, absolute nonsense lyrics -- and Addison's blankness makes way for all of it to shine. [6]

Anna Katrina Lockwood: A terrific song performed so listlessly that I am absolutely unconvinced that Addison Rae does, indeed, have it bad. [7]

Katherine St Asaph: The arrangement is great: a little freestyle, a little 2010s-era Max Martin electro, a little 2000-era Max Martin staccato stabs and final counterpoint chorus. (It's produced by Rami Yacoub -- close enough.) Everything else is not: Addison Rae's vocal nonpresence, the incompetent lyrics (Addison is credited; I believe it), and a supposedly magnetic crush that makes Taylor Swift's undangerous lovers seem like goddamn incubi. [5]

Wayne Weizhen Zhang: "I don't want something right down the middle," Addison Rae shrugs on this middling track. "I Got It Bad" isn't bad, just mediocre with its anonymous pop vision. [4]

Ian Mathers: "Generic" is not necessarily a synonym for "bad." [6]

Jacob Sujin Kuppermann: It's definitely something. [4]

Kayla Beardslee: First time listening, and I can see why this release made noise: it's a surprisingly good Pop Girl Song from an artist whose TikTok background wasn't guaranteed to translate well to pop music. Of course, once you get past the "oh, it's good" phase, it just sounds like a run-of-the-mill pop single -- nice chorus, but there are a thousand other songs that do the same thing. [6]

Michael Hong: "She's definitely improving," goes the top comment on YouTube and you can definitely see "I Got It Bad" as something in Addison Rae's transitional stage between "Friday" and whatever the hell Rebecca Black is doing right now. [5]

Taylor Alatorre: What does it say about the continued hegemony of the Long 1980s that, even in a song with those signature Max Martin orchestra stabs and a clumsy "boy band poster" line, there's still a perceived need to drench it in a blanket of heady synthwave fog? Like, if we're going to be doing anachronisms like that, can we at least skip to the point in the nostalgia cycle where we can start having gratuitous dubstep interludes in pop songs again? Because the 2:09 mark here would be the perfect place for one. [5]

Nortey Dowuona: The drums in this song sound like they were made by Adam Feeney for the 1986 electro pop pack. BTW, pls check that out, and if you find any drum packs or loops in it, use them better than just looping them at the bottom of the track and not doing anything with them. Who did produce this btw - one of them made "My My My" and another made "Stars"? rage quit blurbing, pls finish with joke about rami youssef is the one true Ramy - [2]

Claire Biddles: Not to sound exactly like a 36 year old who always has to check if the second "T" in "TikTok" has to be capitalised, but I had no idea of the vast lore behind Ms Rae's pop career. "I Got It Bad" has the whiff of a lost golden era of pop that could easily cause commotion in parts of the internet, but it's not specific or muscular enough to carry it past pastiche for me. Still, points for the pitched-up orchestra hits and points for the unexpected body horror of "Take off every piece of me/Until there's only skin on my body." [5]

Alex Ostroff: Your enjoyment of this will entirely boil down to how easy a mark you are for retro Max Martin 1.0 tricks that he's long since moved on from but which his old Cheiron Studios colleagues and his newer students nostalgically wheel out every so often. Addison herself is completely blank and uncompelling -- a delivery mechanism who does nothing to get in the way of the hooks but nothing to sell them either. Some of the lyrics are genuinely terrible in ways reminiscent of the Swedes' early work with Backstreet. "He gives it to me more than a little"? "He got me close, but now it's official"? But "He looks like the boy next door from my boyband poster" is a pop music snake eating its own tail that verges on charming. And then the bridge ends with those gradually stacking *NSYNC vocal harmonies ascending up to pop music heaven, then slides right into a Britney-style B-chorus! None of it is as impeccably constructed as its inspirations. For one thing, Max would have had the B-chorus repeat as a counterpoint harmony under the final reprise à la "...Baby One More Time," "(You Drive Me) Crazy," and "Oops!... I Did It Again". The last time he wrote an alternate chorus without immediately repeating it as a closing harmony was Robyn's "Show Me Love" (and he could have -- try singing it over the final chorus for yourself and you'll see that it marries up just as smoothly as Britney's!). In the hands of a real Pop Star and with a bit more work, this would be excellent. As it is, it's merely a very good pop song performed by someone utterly unable to convince us to make it as massive a hit as it would be in an alternate universe. Which should probably merit a [4] or a [5], but... Your enjoyment of this will entirely boil down to how easy a mark you are for retro Max Martin 1.0 tricks that he's long since moved on from... and unfortunately when it comes to classic era Max Martin pop music tricks, "I knew I should walk away, but I went closer". It's definitely something that could ruin my life... cause I... I got it bad. [8]

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#addison rae #music #pop music #music writing #music reviews #music criticism #the singles jukebox #Youtube

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