#all of the ladies are looking really fabulous | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

motherismotheringggg · 9 days ago

Note

Hi, I really do love your stories and all that you give, I hope you have a fabulous day or evening. But I did have a request where you had Nicholas and maybe Cooper(or the readers' friend male or female) trying to fight for your love idk or something, and it turns into this mess where you all end having a three-way with each other and the reader can't up their mind and just wants both of them. Also, it would be cool if the setting was a 90s luxury vibe. But again, do have a good day, evening or night.✨️

crystal decadence 💎

summary: this lovely anon request; reader is the daughter of a wealthy family in beverly hills and her family is throwing a dinner party. when her mom invites the two guys she’s been seeing to the party, it open the reader’s mind to a world where she can have it all

type: post grad rich female reader x post grad rich nicholas x post grad rich cooper; set in the 90s in beverly hills

warnings/tags: masturbation (f!), face sitting (f! on m!), there’s more world building than anything

author’s note: IM SO SORRY IT TOOK ME SO LONG TO DO THIS 😭 little fact about me, i love a period piece!! anything from the 60s - 90s i just ADORE so this was so much fun to write. admittedly there’s more world building than smut but I'll probably do a part 2 and 3 to have individual smuts with both of them - anywho, hope you enjoy!!

word count: ~9783

taglist: @blackynsupremacy ,@emluvsuxo , @hoffmansgirl , @godzillawillsaveus , @purple-1995 , @ilovecheetahchrome , @nicholaslut

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The Beverly Hills sun poured in through the boutique’s tall windows, hitting the glossy tile floors with a golden glow that felt almost tangible. The air smelled of fresh leather, high-end perfume, and a faint hint of gardenia from the floral arrangements that flanked the entrance. Rows of designer dresses shimmered like liquid gems, the silk, satin, and sequins catching the light with every slight sway. Each display felt more like a gallery exhibit than a store, each piece deserving of admiration and awe.

You sat in the swivel barrel chair behind your best friend, Dionne, as she twirled in front of an oversized gilded mirror, her chocolate brown curls bouncing in sync with her movements. The mirror’s ornate frame, covered in gold leaf, practically glowed under the natural light. Dionne’s face was scrunched in disapproval as she examined herself from every angle.

“I like this one, but it does nothing for my figure,” she pouted, tilting her head. Her delicate fingers brushed over the fabric of a soft blush-colored wrap dress that, while gorgeous, wasn’t quite up to her standards.

She turned to you for commentary, something that either agreed with her sentiments or changed her mind, but her face was more pouty than hopeful, there was no changing her mind.

“I think you’ll look great no matter what but we can always go see what they have at Guess,” you suggested, giving her a hopeful look with a reassuring smile.

“They just got a new shipment, and you’d look good in literally everything they make.”

Minutes later, the two of you strolled down the sunlit promenade, every step a subtle strut. The sidewalk’s terrazzo design gleamed under your designer heels, and the rhythmic clack of Dionne’s shiny loafers echoed like a soundtrack to your own personal runway show. The air buzzed with the soft hum of luxury cars idling at the curb, their drivers patiently waiting for their impeccably dressed clients to emerge with shopping bags in hand.

The Guess storefront came into view, its iconic black-and-white logo framed by lush green hedges. The moment you stepped inside, the air conditioning hit you with a refreshing burst, carrying the scent of new denim and crisp linen. A sales associate—all sharp cheekbones and impeccable tailoring—approached with a silver tray of champagne flutes.

“Welcome in, ladies,” he said, his smile as polished as his cufflinks. “Champagne?”

“Don’t mind if I do,” Dionne grinned, plucking a glass from the tray with a practiced elegance that could’ve put an heiress to shame. You followed suit, taking a delicate sip. The bubbles fizzed on your tongue, cool and crisp, just indulgent enough to remind you that you were exactly where you belonged.

Dionne darted off toward the dresses, her eyes sharp and focused like a predator stalking prey. You’d seen her shop a million times before, but every outing was its own spectacle—the slow, intentional grazing of fingertips across fabrics, the sharp “no” she’d mutter to anything less than perfect. You were mid-sip when your phone buzzed in your Fendi baguette bag. With a sigh, you fished it out, glancing at the screen.

Mom flashed across the display.

“Hey, Mom,” you said, balancing the champagne flute in one hand while holding the phone to your ear.

“Hi, sweetheart,” her voice was honey-smooth but edged with the brisk efficiency of a woman accustomed to getting things done. “Are you still out shopping?”

“Yes ma’am, I’m at Guess with Dionne. What’s up?”

“Perfect,” she said, her tone lifting like she’d just solved a puzzle. “I need you to pick up a few things for the party tonight. Just some last-minute items. You know how your father gets about everything being 'just right.'”

You rolled your eyes, but a smile tugged at your lips. “Sure, I’ll grab them.”

“Also,” her voice grew lighter, playful even, “I know you always get bored at these dinner parties so I made sure to invite more people your age tonight. I thought you’d like that.”

“Uh-huh,” you hummed, eyes wandering to where Dionne was now holding up a silky champagne-colored slip dress. She held it against herself, giving you an expectant look.

“You know, Michelle’s son Ethan will be there. And Janine’s daughter, Ashley, you two did cotillian classes together in middle school. Oh! And two of those handsome boys you’ve been seeing lately…”

Your attention snapped back to the call. “Who?”

“Cooper and… Nicholas,” she said matter of factly. “I’ve seen them around you a few times and I know their families so I figured you’d appreciate them being here too.”

Your heart did a double beat almost falling out of your chest. Cooper and Nicholas. Cooper AND Nicholas. The two names bounced in your mind like a neon marquee.

“Are you still there, darling?” your mom’s voice pulled you back to reality.

“Yeah..yeah. I’m here,” you said, fighting to sound nonchalant. You glanced at Dionne, who’d lowered the slip dress and was watching you now with raised brows, her curiosity clearly piqued. “I’ll get everything on your list. I gotta go.”

You ended the call and slipped the phone back into your bag with hands that felt just a little too warm. Dionne’s eyes hadn’t left you.

“What was that about?” she asked, suspicion and delight mixing in her tone.

“Cooper and Nicholas are coming to the party tonight,” you muttered, finishing the rest of your champagne in one long, unbothered sip.

Dionne’s eyes went wide, then her grin stretched slow and wicked. “Both of them?”

“Yes.” You placed your empty glass on a nearby counter, grabbing another from the silver tray like it owed you money.

Her face lit up like she’d just been gifted a Birkin bag. “Oh, girl, you’re in trouble.”

She wasn’t wrong. You’d been seeing both of them—flirtations, lingering touches, stolen kisses, heavy petting in the back seat of their respective BMWs fresh off the lot —but nothing official. And now they’d both be at the same party, breathing the same air, under the same glittering chandeliers.

“You know what?” Dionne’s tone had the same decisive finality as a stylist’s finishing touch. “We’re gonna make sure you’re the most stunning thing at that party tonight. If Cooper and Nicholas want to compete, they’re gonna have to fight over a goddess.”

She yanked a sleek black mini-dress off the rack and held it up to you like she’d just discovered a gold mine. The silk fabric draped like molten lava, daring yet elegant.

“This. This is the one,” she said, eyes practically glittering.

You glanced at yourself in the mirror. The dress’s sharp lines and bold color did something to you, something powerful. Your reflection wasn’t just you. It was her. It was the girl who walked into a party and owned it.

————

The driveway to your home was already lined with sleek black sedans and luxury SUVs, a telltale sign that the party prep was well underway. As you stepped inside, the familiar symphony of controlled chaos greeted you. Maids buzzed about, fluffing cushions, arranging floral centerpieces, and wiping already spotless surfaces. The chefs moved with precision in the kitchen, their crisp white uniforms stark against the warmth of the marble countertops as the aroma of hors d’oeuvres drifted through the air.

When you reached the kitchen, you found your parents deep in conversation. The room was immaculate, bathed in the golden glow of a chandelier overhead that refracted light across the glossy marble countertops. The air carried a faint mix of roasted rosemary and aged wine, a scent that instantly evoked a sense of affluence and occasion.

Your father’s voice carried with its usual self-assured timbre, smooth as the leather of his oxblood loafers, a tone he reserved for strategizing. He stood by the kitchen island, one hand loosely gripping a crystal tumbler of scotch.

“This party will show him everything he needs to see,” he declared to your mother, his other hand gesturing with purpose. The sharp lines of his tailored pinstripe suit caught the light as he moved. “Once he sees my connections, he’ll have no choice but to promote me.”

Your mother stood nearby, her posture perfect, the pearls around her neck gleaming like tiny orbs of moonlight. Her nails—painted a classic red—tapped rhythmically against the stem of her wine glass. She listened intently, her expression serene but her eyes sharp, showing just how much this evening meant to her too.

It was your father who noticed you first, his face breaking into a grin that softened the otherwise calculated air about him. “And if all else fails,” he began, a touch of warmth entering his voice, “the fact that my daughter has joined my boss among the ranks of Stanford grads will seal the deal.” He opened his arms wide in invitation.

You stepped forward, letting yourself be enveloped in his cologne—a heady mix of cedarwood and power—before moving to embrace your mother. “You know I’m not a fan of using my education as a bargaining chip,” you teased, your lips curving into a small smile as you pulled back.

Your mother placed a manicured hand on your shoulder, her touch both tender and commanding. “It wouldn’t hurt,” she replied with an indulgent smile, her tone as polished as the sterling silver trays being carried past by staff. Then, her demeanor shifted, her voice taking on that quiet authority you’d grown up respecting. “Now, I need you to look over the seating arrangements before the guests arrive. There’s assigned seating for dinner, and I’d like your eyes on it to make sure it’s perfect.”

“Got it,” you replied, already glancing toward the dining room. From where you stood, you could see the flicker of candlelight bouncing off the long, polished mahogany table.

The place settings were immaculate: fine bone china with intricate gold detailing, crystal water goblets arranged like jewels, and name cards written in calligraphy so precise it could only have been commissioned. The centerpiece—a sprawling arrangement of deep red roses and soft white lilies—sat elegantly beneath another grand chandelier, a testament to your mother’s exacting standards.

“Don’t forget,” your mother added as she lifted her glass to her lips, “your uncle will be sitting next to Mr. Whitmore. Keep their egos balanced, darling.”

With a soft laugh, you nodded, stepping toward the dining room to inspect the scene. The sound of your heels clicking against the marble floor echoed faintly as you moved, the weight of the evening settling on your shoulders.

The dining room greeted you with the soft glow of candlelight, casting a golden hue over the sprawling mahogany table. The pristine white tablecloth looked almost too perfect to touch, and every detail, from the gold-embossed place settings to the hand-folded linen napkins, screamed elegance. The centerpiece—a lush arrangement of red roses and white lilies—stretched nearly the length of the table, its fragrance subtle but ever-present.

You ran your fingers lightly over the place cards, each bearing names written in delicate calligraphy. You knew your mother well enough to expect near-perfection, but there was always room for a few tweaks, and this was your chance to ensure things aligned with your vision. As your eyes scanned the arrangement, you found your name near the middle of the table, right next to Jason Mitchell, one of your mom’s friend’s sons. An Ivy League basketball player, Jason was pleasant enough, but you couldn’t imagine a night of forced small talk with him.

Just across the table, you spotted Dionne’s name. A smile tugged at your lips—at least your mother had the sense to seat her close. But across the table wasn’t close enough. You quickly slipped Jason’s card out of its holder and replaced it with your own, moving him to the other side. That was better. You and Dionne would have the whole evening to share knowing looks, inside jokes, and quiet commentary about the spectacle unfolding around you.

Satisfied, you continued down the table. Your mother’s place was naturally toward the head, right next to Nicholas Whitmore, a family acquaintance who always managed to dominate the conversation. A few seats down from them, you spotted another familiar name: Cooper. You paused, fingers hovering over his card. Something about seeing his name there sent a jolt of nervous energy through you.

For a moment, you hesitated, chewing lightly on your lip. Cooper was already close enough, but a small part of you—the part that couldn’t resist the chance to tilt the night in your favor—wanted to shake things up. You plucked Cooper’s card from its spot and swapped it with the one next to Dionne, biting back a grin as you imagined her teasing you later. And then, almost without thinking, you reached for Nicholas’s card.

Sliding it into place beside yours, you felt a rush of something you couldn’t quite name—excitement, nerves, or maybe a bit of both. You stared at the new arrangement for a moment, the butterflies in your stomach stirring. Should you change it back? This has the potential to blow up in your face.

Before you could second-guess yourself, you turned on your heel, grabbing a small bowl of fruit from the sideboard on your way out. The quiet clink of your heels against the marble was drowned out by the pounding of your heartbeat as you hurried upstairs.

Your bedroom awaited, a sanctuary fit for a young socialite. The space was expansive, with floor-to-ceiling windows that framed a stunning view of the city skyline. Plush cream carpets covered the floor, so soft you’d forgone wearing slippers long ago. A canopy bed draped with sheer white fabric stood as the centerpiece, its silk bedding in soft blush and ivory tones. A vintage vanity, lined with your collection of luxury perfumes and makeup, sat to the side, while a wall of custom closets held the curated wardrobe that your stylist loved to call “your personal archive.”

But it wasn’t any of that that caught your attention this time. It was the bouquet of pink tulips on your bed. The sight of them stopped you in your tracks. They were vibrant, freshly cut, and tied with a delicate ribbon. Resting against them was a small handwritten note. You picked it up, the paper soft and expensive beneath your fingertips.

“Can’t wait to see you tonight and make you mine.”

The signature at the bottom was unmistakable: CH, followed by a small heart. Your heart fluttered in response. Cooper. Of course it was him. He always knew exactly what to do. He remembered that tulips were your favorite — a detail Nicholas never seemed to catch on to, despite how many times he’d brought you roses. Roses were lovely, but tulips? Tulips felt personal to you, especially since Cooper knew why you liked them so much.

One sunny morning, a breakfast date with Cooper led to a stroll through the park. The air was crisp, the kind that made everything feel lighter, and the vibrant bed of tulips in bloom instantly caught your eye. You paused, pulling out your sleek Contax G2 to snap a photo, then another, and another.

Cooper chuckled, hands tucked into his pockets as he watched you. “Why so many?” he asked, his tone warm and teasing.

You smiled, lowering your camera. “When I was little, my grandmother used to sit me in her garden while she planted tulips. She was this elegant, no-nonsense woman, but in the garden, she was different. Softer. Tending to her flowers was her favorite kind of hard work. It always felt like our secret world, just the two of us.”

As you spoke, your voice softened with nostalgia, and Cooper listened intently. His usual playful demeanor shifted; the teasing glint in his hazel eyes was replaced by something deeper. He wasn’t just hearing your story—he was falling for you with every word.

The way you spoke about your grandmother, the light in your eyes as you shared this piece of yourself—it was mesmerizing. Cooper’s gaze lingered on you, filled with a quiet adoration that made the moment feel suspended in time.

From that day on, he made a silent promise to himself. Every time he saw you, he’d show up with a single tulip in hand. The first time, he offered it with a shy grin. “One for now,” he said, his voice low and sincere, “and maybe a bouquet later.”

Your phone buzzed, pulling you from the memory. Fully expecting it to be Cooper calling to see if you’d gotten the flowers, you smiled as you reached for your phone. But when you glanced at the screen, your breath caught.

Nicholas.

You hesitated for half a second before answering. “Hey, Nicky.”

“Hey,” his voice was warm, that lazy, playful drawl he always had when he was in a good mood. “Just wanted to say I’m really looking forward to seeing you tonight. I know you’re gonna look amazing. You always do.”

“Thanks,” you said, leaning back against your pillows. Your tone was sweet but eyes drifted to the tulips again, their petals catching the golden hour light filtering through your window.

“And listen,” Nicholas continued, his voice dipping into a conspiratorial tone, “I’ve got something planned for after the party -- If you’re up for it, of course. I’m pretty sure this will make things a little easier for you.”

You let out a breathy giggle. Nicholas knew his spontaneity and charm, aside from his good looks, could win you over. His voice blurred as your thoughts floated back to a different time, another moment when he’d swept you off your feet with his easy charisma and his knack for pulling you out of the whirlwind.

The summer after you graduated college was relentless—interviews and expectations piling on, leaving you breathless. You’d stood Nicholas up that week, overwhelmed by the chaos, but he didn’t seem to mind. He showed up at your door, calm and sure.

“You need a break,” he said, his brown eyes steady and warm. “Pack a bag. Just a change of clothes and a bathing suit.”

You didn’t argue. Moments later, you were in his car, the city fading behind he as Sinatra played softly through the speakers. The scent of saltwater greeted you long before Nicholas turned off the road onto a secluded beach.

The ocean stretched endlessly before you, sparkling under the sun. Without hesitation, you kicked off your shoes and ran toward the waves, laughing freely for the first time in weeks.

Nicholas followed at his own pace, watching you with a soft smile. “Don’t forget to breathe!” he teased, his voice light.

When you ran back, drenched and beaming, he wrapped a towel around you, pulling you close. “You’ve been carrying so much,” he said, his hand brushing your cheek. “But you don’t have to have it all figured out. Life is still beautiful, still yours to enjoy.”

Tears pricked your eyes, and you whispered, “Thank you, Nicky.”

“Always,” he murmured, his fingers lacing with yours as the waves rolled in behind you.

“Y/N…hello, are you still there?”

Nicholas’s voice pulled you back to the present. His tone was gentle but curious, a soft nudge to bring you back. “You okay? You got quiet on me for a second there.”

“Yeah,” you said quickly, blinking away the memory. “I’m here. Sorry, I was listening… I think the red turtle neck would look nice, trust me.”

“I’d wear one of those rainbow umbrella hats if you told me to”, Nicholas replied with coyness, you could tell came with a snide smirk on the other end.

Your lips curved into a smile. “And I’m sure you’d look great regardless,” you checked the time on your side table alarm clock, “And if I don’t start getting ready now, you’ll show up looking better than me at my own party. I’ll see you tonight”

“See you tonight beautiful,” Nicholas said hanging up the phone.

Your phone slipped from your hands onto the bed, and you let out a breath you didn’t know you’d been holding. It wasn’t lost on you how complicated things had become. Nicholas and Cooper had despised each other long before you’d come into the picture. Their families had always been at odds, but the animosity had only grown after the tennis match.

You’d gone to support Cooper, not realizing Nicholas was his opponent. The tension in the air that day had been palpable, charged with more than just competitive energy. When the match ended and they’d both approached you simultaneously, their expressions a mix of confusion and hurt, it all unraveled.

They’d each thought you were there for them. Words were exchanged, chests puffed, and if one of their coaches hadn’t intervened, fists might have flown. It was messy, a little brutish, and you’d be lying if you said it wasn’t kind of hot.

The memory replayed in your mind, and your breath hitched as the details sharpened. You remembered the way Nicholas’s strong hands curled into tight fists, veins bulging along his forearms, his usually calm demeanor flickering with fiery intensity. Then there was Cooper, his jaw clenched so tight you could see the muscle jump, his sharp blue eyes boring into Nicholas like he was daring him to make a move.

Both men had staked their claim over you in no uncertain terms. Nicholas, his deep, steady voice, a calming but commanding presence, telling Cooper to back off because you’d come to see him. Cooper, refusing to yield, had stepped forward, his broad chest rising and falling as he fired back with his own confident assertion that you’d made it clear who you were there for.

The more you remembered, the hotter you felt, a warm tingle blooming low in your belly. You couldn’t stop your mind from drifting to the way they’d looked in that moment—two powerhouses, their towering frames practically vibrating with restrained aggression, both ready to fight for you. The thought sent a spark straight through you, and you instinctively squeezed your thighs together, desperate to quell the growing ache.

But it wasn’t enough.

You pushed yourself off the bed, deciding a cold shower would help clear your head. Your bathroom was an opulent retreat, the centerpiece of your suite. Marble countertops gleamed under the soft glow of chandelier lighting, and the oversized walk-in shower, enclosed in glass, boasted multiple showerheads and a luxurious rainfall feature. You turned the water on, adjusting it to a cool but comfortable temperature, and stepped inside, the mist already softening the tension in your muscles.

Still, as the water cascaded over your skin, you couldn’t shake the thoughts from your mind. The memory of Nicholas and Cooper’s heated argument twisted into something darker, more intoxicating. You imagined them in a different setting, their rivalry spilling into the bedroom. Instead of fighting with words, they’d use their bodies to prove who could claim you more thoroughly, more passionately.

The vivid thought sent your pulse racing. You pictured Nicholas, his strong hands gripping your thighs as he whispered in your ear, his usually composed demeanor unraveling as he sought to make you lose control. Then Cooper, not to be outdone, trailing heated kisses down your neck, his cocky smirk melting into something desperate as he worked to outdo Nicholas, both of them vying for your moans, your gasps, your finish.

The ache between your legs became unbearable. Almost on autopilot, you reached for the detachable showerhead. You adjusted the settings, angling it just right as the water pressure hit your throbbing self. A gasp escaped your lips, and your knees buckled slightly, your free hand bracing against the cool marble wall.

You let your eyes flutter shut, the fantasy playing out behind your lids as the water pulsed against you. The imagined sounds of their voices—Nicholas’s deep, breathy whispers and Cooper’s rough, low groans—mingled with the steady rhythm of the shower. Your hips moved instinctively, chasing the sensation as you rode the wave of pleasure building within you.

The cool tile of the shower wall met your back as you slammed against it, your body arching with the building tension. The relentless spray of the shower head pulsed against you, sending waves of heat coursing through your body. Your hand instinctively reached up, cupping your breast as your fingers found your nipple, squeezing and pinching in rhythm with your escalating pleasure.

Breathy moans slipped from your lips, the sound mingling with the soft hiss of water against the tile. Each whimper was sharp and unrestrained, your breaths hitching as the pressure built higher and higher. Your eyes clenched shut, a desperate attempt to ground yourself, but the name that spilled from your mouth was entirely unexpected.

“Nicholas…” you moaned, the sound raw and unfiltered.

Your eyes snapped open, startled by how naturally it had slipped from your lips as if your subconscious had been holding onto it all along. The thought sent a fresh wave of heat spiraling through you, tightening the coil low in your belly.

Your free hand shot out to steady yourself against the opposite wall, your body trembling as the fantasy took hold. “Cooper…” you whimpered, voice laced with yearning. The thought of both men worshiping your body pushed you closer to the edge. Your lips parted, a soft cry spilling out. “That feels so good, baby…”

The vivid image filled your mind—Nicholas’s boyish grin turned wicked with desire, Cooper’s hands firm yet tender against your skin. The imagined weight of their attention, their touch, tipped you over.

Your body tensed, a shuddering gasp escaping you as the release swept through, leaving your legs weak and trembling. You clung to the wall for support, your breath stuttering in the aftermath. The tension slowly ebbed away, the pulsing water washing over you, grounding you back in reality.

A quiet laugh bubbled up as you ran a hand through your wet hair, shaking your head at yourself. “Get it together,” you muttered with a wry smile, reaching for the towel hanging nearby. Wrapping it snugly around your body, you stepped out of the shower, cheeks still flushed and thoughts lingering far longer than you intended.

----

You and Dionne lingered in the backyard’s conversation pit, the kind of luxurious setup that made you feel like you were in the pages of an interior design magazine. The space was undeniably chic—a sunken circular area surrounded by sleek stone walls, with plush cream-upholstered seating that invited you to sink in and stay a while. Overhead, string lights crisscrossed in delicate patterns, casting a warm, golden glow over the backyard. The faint scent of jasmine mixed with the lingering aroma of grilled vegetables and rosemary from dinner, while the hum of crickets filled the gaps in your conversation.

You’d both done your due diligence, making just enough small talk with the party guests to keep your mom off your back. Now, the two of you finally had a moment to yourselves. Dionne, dressed impeccably in a silky lavender blouse that shimmered in the light, swirled the champagne in her glass, watching the bubbles rise before taking a sip.

“Cooper’s family came in right behind mine,” she began casually, her dark eyes glinting with mischief. “And get this—he had a Van Cleef bag in his hand. When I asked him about it, he didn’t say much, but he did mention that he knew you’d love it.”

You inhaled sharply, a knowing smirk tugging at your lips. “It’s probably the Alhambra butterfly necklace. I pointed it out on our last date,” you said, leaning back against the cushioned seat. “I could practically see the dollar signs in his eyes.”

Dionne laughed, her voice a warm melody against the night air. “Girl, you are so lucky. I mean, seriously. The two hottest guys from our prep school—not to mention they’ve only gotten hotter—chasing after you like this?” She gave you a playful nudge with her elbow. “I love this for you.”

You tilted your head, a wistful smile creeping across your face as you exhaled. “Yeah… it’s a lot to think about.”

Her eyes narrowed slightly with mock seriousness. “So, what are you gonna do? You’ve got to choose one eventually.”

You chuckled softly, taking a sip of your own champagne. “I don’t know, Dee.”

With a grin, she leaned in conspiratorially. “Well, I say you pick whoever’s better in bed.”

You shot her a look, one eyebrow raised, and her mouth fell open. “Oh my God, wait—you didn’t!” She set her glass down on the low table in front of you, her eyes sparkling with excitement as she leaned closer. “Spill! I thought for sure, with all those drives up to the mountains with Nicholas and Cooper, you’d—”

You cut her off, laughing as you waved a hand dismissively. “No, no! Part of the fun is keeping them waiting. You know me—I like a little suspense.”

Her jaw dropped in exaggerated shock, and she gasped. “You’re telling me… you’ve gone all this time and haven’t…?”

You grinned slyly, lowering your voice just enough to make her lean in further. “Kissed them enough to fog up car windows? Sure. Teased them with neck kisses and… other things during movie nights? Of course.” You paused, watching her expression as she hung on your every word. “But I’ve been keeping them on their toes. The tension? The chase? It makes everything so much hotter.”

Dionne burst into laughter, throwing her head back. “You are such a tease,” she said, still laughing. “Pure agonizing tease. But I’m here for it. Whoever you pick tonight is gonna be the luckiest man alive.”

You shrugged with a playful smirk, murmuring under your breath but loud enough for her to catch, “Maybe I’m considering both.”

Her gasp turned into a shocked laugh, loud and unabashed. “You didn’t just say that!”

Before you could reply, the patio door creaked open, and your mom’s voice rang out, cheerful but commanding. “Dinner’s ready, girls!”

The two of you exchanged a look, Dionne biting her lip to keep from giggling as you grabbed your glass. “Coming!” you called back, your voice perfectly composed.

As you stood to head inside, Dionne leaned close and whispered with a wicked grin, “I’m sure you will be.”

----

The dining room was a masterpiece of luxury, with its vaulted ceilings and gilded accents that sparkled under the glow of cascading crystal chandeliers. The table stretched nearly the entire length of the room, draped in an ivory cloth embroidered with golden threads, each place setting carefully arranged with fine china and polished silverware. The scent of freshly cut roses mingled with the faint aroma of roasted vegetables drifting in from the kitchen.

You had nearly forgot that you fixed the seating arrangement; Nicholas next to you, Dionne across from you, and Cooper next her, across from Nicholas.

You were deep in conversation with a family friend about your post-college job search, nodding thoughtfully as you explained your next steps and goals. The sound of laughter and clinking glasses from the party faded into the background, your focus entirely on the discussion. You hadn’t even noticed Nicholas and Cooper making their way toward the table.

Before you realized what was happening, Nicholas was at your side, effortlessly pulling out your chair. His hand—large and warm—found its place on your waist, guiding you gently but firmly back to your seat. The subtle pressure of his touch sent a shiver up your spine, but you maintained your composure, offering a polite smile as you wrapped up the conversation.

His gesture wasn’t just polite—it was deliberate, designed to be noticed. A murmur of approval rippled through the room, subtle but unmistakable. You caught the small smile tugging at your mother’s lips from across the table, her eyes glinting with pride at the display of gentlemanly behavior.

You murmured your thanks as you sat, letting him slide your chair in. His cologne, an enticing blend of cedar and spice, lingered faintly in the air as he leaned in just slightly, his voice dropping to a near whisper.

“My pleasure,” he said, the words brushing against your ear like a secret meant only for you.

Across the table, Cooper’s reaction was immediate and impossible to miss. His jaw tightened, his hand gripping the back of his chair as he glared at Nicholas with barely concealed irritation. The muscle in his cheek twitched, and his eyes flicked back to you, darkened by an emotion you could only describe as possessive.

Despite his simmering frustration, Cooper stayed seated, refusing to make a scene. Dionne flashed you a look of saucy approval, you hid your smirk before the server came over to take your order.

As Nicholas returned to his seat, Cooper’s gaze lingered on you for a heartbeat longer, his eyes tracing your features before he finally turned his attention to the wine list in front of him.

You sat there, calm and poised on the outside, but your heart was pounding.

The servers moved seamlessly around the table, placing delicate plates of appetizers before each guest. The room was alive with the clink of silverware and soft murmurs of conversation, but your focus wavered as your father stood from his seat, raising his glass with an air of practiced authority.

“To community,” he began, his voice steady and commanding as it carried across the room. “To connections that bring us together and strengthen us—personally, professionally, and beyond.” He gestured toward his boss with a respectful nod, his smile warm but calculated.

He turned to you next, his eyes softening. “To my brilliant daughter, whose success continues to amaze us all.” His glass tilted toward your mom as his smile widened. “And to my wife, the love of my life, whose support has made all of this possible.”

The table erupted in polite applause and scattered cheers, and your mom lifted her glass with an appreciative smile. “To family,” she said, her voice bright and sincere. “And to the man who keeps ours grounded and inspired every day.”

The momentum of the toasts carried on as others chimed in. Your uncle stood to wish everyone health and wealth, and a few other family friends added their sentiments about the joys of togetherness and new opportunities. You thought the flurry of toasts had finally come to a close when a brief silence settled over the room.

But then, a low screech of wood against polished floors cut through the quiet as Cooper rose from his seat.

“And a toast,” he began, his voice clear and bold, the room instantly drawn to him. His gaze was locked on you, his hazel eyes shimmering with an intensity that made your breath hitch. “To Y/N, for her beauty and grace.”

The air seemed to still as the words left his lips, his tone brimming with sincerity. “Since the day I met her, she’s done nothing but charm me and challenge me to be a better man.”

Your heart thudded painfully in your chest as every eye turned toward you. You managed a smile—tongue-in-cheek, though your cheeks burned with heat. You could feel Dionne nearly vibrating across from you, barely able to contain her giddy excitement as she pressed her lips tightly together to suppress a grin.

Next to you, Nicholas’s expression darkened like a brewing storm. His fingers curled around the stem of his wine glass with such force you thought it might snap. His jaw clenched visibly, the muscle ticking with restrained fury as his eyes shot daggers at Cooper.

Your mom, ever the master of social nuance, caught your eye with a subtle nod and an intrigued glint in her gaze. Whatever this was, she seemed to think it was not only entertaining but possibly advantageous. Your dad, on the other hand, looked utterly bewildered, his brow furrowed in confusion as he glanced between you and Cooper.

The tension was thick enough to cut with a knife, Dionne, raised her glass high, her voice ringing out cheerfully. “To everyone here tonight!”

The collective relief after Dionne’s toast was nearly tangible as glasses were raised, and the murmur of polite conversation began to hum around the table once more. Everyone seemed eager to let the tension dissipate—everyone except for Nicholas, who still hadn’t lifted his glass.

His knuckles were white as they gripped the base of the wine glass, the sharp angles of his jaw working overtime as he stared daggers at Cooper. It was a standoff only the two of them seemed to be fully aware of, the air between them crackling with silent hostility.

Cooper, ever the opportunist, didn’t let the moment pass unnoticed. “Come on, Nicholas,” he said with a sly grin, his voice just loud enough to draw a few curious glances. “Don’t be a barbarian—it’s a wine glass. You just grab it and raise it when everyone else does.”

The jab was subtle but sharp, cutting through the tension like a knife. Nicholas’s jaw clenched so tightly you wondered if he might crack a tooth. His eyes burned with a fury that would have sent most people scrambling, but Cooper only leaned back slightly in his chair, his confidence brimming.

Cooper cocked his shoulders with an ease that was almost infuriating, a smirk tugging at his lips as he shot Nicholas a wink. It was the kind of victorious, self-assured gesture that screamed I’ve won this round, and it left no doubt in anyone’s mind about who had taken control of the moment.

Nicholas finally, begrudgingly, raised his glass, his movements slow and deliberate as if every second of compliance was a battle. His dark eyes flicked back to you briefly, the intensity in them leaving a shiver down your spine.

Dinner had gone smoothly, though the charged undercurrent of tension was unmistakable. The low murmur of conversation, the clinking of silverware against fine china, and the occasional burst of laughter from the adults filled the air.

The dining room was grand, with soft golden light spilling from an ornate chandelier above the long table, casting a warm glow over the elegant table settings and half-empty glasses of wine. Cooper and Nicholas, seated strategically to keep you in their orbit, continued their subtle battle for your attention.

You maintained a composed and neutral demeanor, responding with polite smiles and light conversation. Internally, though, you were keenly aware of their every move. Dionne, sitting opposite you, occasionally met your eye with a knowing smirk, clearly enjoying the game unfolding before her.

She couldn’t resist adding fuel to the fire. Between bites of her crème brûlée, she tossed out quips like, “Y/N needs a man who’s not intimidated by success. Nicholas, are you intimidated by women with success?” Her tone was teasing, but the twinkle in her eye left little doubt she was having fun watching them squirm.

Nicholas smirked, tapping the rim of his glass. “Oh, I’m more than capable of keeping up, Coop. It’s just a matter of knowing how to play the game.” His eyes never left you, the unspoken message clear.

Cooper leaned in, a mischievous glint in his eye. “It’s not about playing the game, Nick. It’s about winning it.” He raised an eyebrow, letting the words hang in the air as he slid a teasing glance in your direction. "And trust me, I know how to win."

Nicholas chuckled again, the sound low and confident. “Winning isn’t always about being first. Sometimes, it’s about knowing when to take your time.” His voice dropped a notch, a subtle invitation lingering in his words.

Cooper wasn’t backing down. “Taking your time? I guess we’ll see how far that gets you when the clock’s ticking.” He gave you a wink, his tone playful yet laden with challenge. “I work better under pressure, you know.”

“Oh, I’m aware,” Nicholas quipped, his gaze sharp. “But we all know who’s got the stamina for the long haul.” His lips curled into a knowing smile as he leaned forward, his voice a bit lower. "Some things can’t be rushed."

Cooper’s grin widened, the tension crackling in the air. “Maybe. But there’s a difference between stamina and strategy. And I’ve got both on my side.” He turned toward you with a knowing look, making sure to catch your eye before adding, “You’ll see what I mean.”

Nicholas shot him a sly glance, clearly not phased. “I think she already has, Coop.” He met your gaze, the connection undeniable, before turning back to Cooper. “But we’ll see how the game plays out.”

You and Dionne could hardly contain yourselves, struggling to stifle chuckles and your face getting hot from tension from the boys but trying to withstand the heat pooling in the pit of your stomach.

-----

The party had gradually wound down, the lively buzz of conversation and laughter from earlier now replaced by a soft hum of voices in the backyard. A few remaining guests lingered with your parents, gathered in the cozy conversation pit beneath the glow of string lights. The gentle rustle of the breeze carried snippets of their relaxed chatter, the occasional clink of glasses punctuating the calm atmosphere. The backyard was a picture of tranquility, the perfect wind-down to an otherwise bustling evening.

You, with a gentle nudge from Dionne, signaling that with everyone outside it’s the perfect time for you to get away with Nicholas and Cooper to your room. You put your hand on Nicholas’ thigh at the dinner table, speaking just above a whisper for him to join you in your room. You see the excitement bubbling in him, but it quickly diminished when you invited Cooper as well.

What had started as a laid-back conversation about clothes and music had spiraled into a heated argument between the two -- it was loud and abrasive but exactly your plan.

You sat on the edge of the bed while they stood on either side of you and argued.

“God, everything about you is so trite,” Nicholas scoffed, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed.

Cooper’s lips twitched into a sardonic smile. “Trite? Coming from you?” He gestured toward Nicholas, his voice steady but biting. “That’s rich coming from like the Ivy league frat trash."

Cooper’s gaze darkened. “Everyone knows how many times you got arrested for disorderlies, daddy came and bailed you out each and every time and now you have a cushy job at his firm because no one would hire your ass! ”

Nicholas straightened, stepping forward, his voice low and dangerous. “At least I can keep her interested. You? You’d bore her to tears with your lectures about art-house films and overpriced coffee.”

“You think she wants some overgrown frat boy? Grow up. She deserves someone who’ll treat her right, not drag her into your mess.”

“Oh, because you’re the knight in shining armor?” Nicholas sneered. “I bring something to the table you never could”

Cooper took a slow breath, his calm exterior fraying. “That explains why you showed up empty-handed tonight, huh? Not even a rose. Thoughtful as ever, I see.” He reached into his coat and pulled out a sleek Van Cleef bag, holding it up for emphasis. “This, at least, shows I care enough to know what she likes.”

Nicholas rolled his eyes. “You think gifts are the way to her heart? Please. She can buy that for herself. I give her what she needs.”

Cooper tilted his head, his voice dropping into a low growl. “You don’t even know what she needs.”

As their words grew sharper, the room seemed to heat with tension, and you couldn’t help the twinge deep in your core. Their arguing wasn’t just about their preferences or styles; it was about you. The way they both stared at each other, the venom in their words—it all pointed back to the same thing: they were fighting for you.

“Boys, please,” you interrupted, your voice low but firm, cutting through the heated tension between them. It wasn’t a harsh tone—just commanding enough to grab their attention and stop the bickering. Their arguing immediately ceased, leaving a palpable silence in its wake.

“Claiming you both know what I want without actually asking me? That’s a little ridiculous, don’t you think?” you said, your teasing tone relieving some of the aggressive energy in the room. Though the animosity between Nicholas and Cooper lingered beneath the surface, their eyes were now focused entirely on you, brimming with adoration.

Cooper shifted, sitting down beside you and resting a hand gently on your thigh. “Sorry,” he said, his voice soft and apologetic, but his expression still held a hint of smugness as he flashed you his charming, dimpled smile. “He just brings out the worst in me.”

Nicholas scoffed from across the room before dropping down on your other side with a dramatic plop. “As if you don’t deserve it,” he muttered, but his eyes were fixed on you with an intensity that betrayed his annoyance.

“What can I do for you?” Cooper asked, taking your hands in his, his lips brushing against your knuckles in a gesture that felt as much a declaration of his feelings as it was a jab at Nicholas.

“Relax,” Nicholas cut in, his tone flat and stern, clearly irritated by Cooper’s display. His gaze never left yours as he leaned in closer.

The exchange made you chuckle, and to diffuse the tension, you leaned toward Nicholas and pressed a soft kiss to his jawline. His eyes softened slightly, the hard edge of his frustration melting away under your touch.

You took a steadying breath, your heart thumping in your chest as both sets of eyes bore into you, waiting. “I appreciate the gifts, the dates,” you began, your tone gentle but deliberate, making sure they both felt the weight of your words. “You know I do. But I want—need—more.”

Both of them stilled, their hesitation palpable as they processed your words. The room seemed to collectively hold its breath. You met their gazes, your voice calm but dripping with intent as you added, “I want you both to show me.”

Nicholas blinked, his brown eyes wide, stunned into silence for a beat before he managed to stammer, “You mean… both of us? Now?” His voice cracked slightly, a mix of disbelief and anticipation.

You gave him a pointed look, your eyes heavy-lidded and smoldering. Bedroom eyes, they used to call it, and now you wielded them with purpose.

“Like… at the same time?” Cooper’s voice was shaky, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed hard. His uncertainty didn’t stop him from leaning forward slightly, his gaze sweeping over you with a mixture of awe and yearning.

Instead of answering, you rose from the bed with a fluid motion, standing in front of them. Slowly, you reached for the zipper of your dress, letting the straps slip down your shoulders with deliberate care. Every movement was intentional, slow and teasing, as you drew the fabric down over your body. Their eyes were glued to you, neither daring to speak as the tension thickened in the air, the anticipation palpable with every second.

When your dress finally pooled at your feet, you stood before them in nothing but the delicate lingerie you’d chosen earlier—an ensemble designed to accentuate every curve, every detail meant to entice. The way their jaws tightened, the way their gazes roamed your figure, drinking you in, was all the confirmation you needed.

Their eyes tracked your every movement as if they couldn’t look away, taking in the way the soft fabric slid from your body and the confident way you climbed onto the bed. Positioned at its center, you gave them both a look that was equal parts commanding and inviting. They remained frozen, caught between anticipation and hesitation, until you broke the silence with a playful challenge.

“Are you going to keep me waiting?” you teased, your tone sultry yet light.

That was all it took. In an instant, both of them sprang into action, fumbling with buttons and pulling at their clothes. Their movements were uncoordinated at first—hands catching on shirt sleeves and belts—but as their layers peeled away, the uncertainty melted into something more primal. Even as they undressed, their eyes never left you, their hunger for you evident in every glance and the way their chests rose and fell with heavy breaths.

Nicholas was the first to make his move. He crossed the mattress with a deliberate pace, crawling toward you with a confidence that sent a shiver down your spine. The way his back muscles rippled with each movement made your pulse quicken, a delicious ache building inside you as you watched him close the gap.

When he reached you, his large hands found your waist, his grip firm but reverent as he gently pulled you closer to him. His lips pressed soft, lingering kisses to your stomach, each touch sending waves of warmth and electricity through your body. The sensation of his breath on your skin, the way his fingers brushed against your sides, left you breathless.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he murmured against your skin, his voice low and almost reverent. His hands slid up to cradle your torso, his thumbs tracing lazy circles against your ribs as he kissed his way upward, pausing just below your sternum.

Behind him, Cooper hesitated for a moment, watching the scene unfold with a mixture of awe and determination. Then, as if spurred on by Nicholas’s lead, he climbed onto the bed, his movements slower and more deliberate, but no less intense.

Cooper reached out with a steady hand, his touch on your jaw both tender and possessive as he guided your face to his. His lips claimed yours in a kiss that was deep and consuming, filled with a need that made your breath hitch. His kiss wasn’t just a gesture—it was a declaration, a challenge to Nicholas as much as it was a promise to you.

As your lips moved together, you couldn’t ignore the way Nicholas’s hands continued their deliberate exploration, his mouth now dangerously close to your pantyline. His hot breath against your skin sent shivers racing up your spine, the contrast between his slow, teasing movements and Cooper’s demanding kiss leaving you feeling utterly undone.

Cooper’s grip on your waist tightened as though anchoring you to him, his thumb brushing over your cheek in a fleeting but intimate gesture. Before Nicholas could draw all your attention, Cooper broke the kiss just enough to press his forehead to yours, his breath mingling with yours as he whispered, “I’ve wanted this—wanted you—for so long.”

His words made your heart skip, but before you could respond, Cooper took your hand, guiding it deliberately to him, pressing it against the hardness straining against the fabric of his underwear. The heat of him, the way he swelled and grew under your touch, sent a flush spreading through your body.

Your lips trailed to his neck, tasting the salt of his skin, and you bit down lightly at the juncture of his collarbone. Cooper’s low groan vibrated against your lips, and the way his hips involuntarily bucked against your hand made you smile against his skin.

Nicholas, clearly unwilling to be ignored, let out a soft chuckle against your stomach. “Don’t forget about me,” he teased, his voice thick with heat and a hint of frustration. He pressed an open-mouthed kiss just above your hip bone before his fingers hooked into the waistband of your panties, tugging them down slightly.

In one smooth motion, Nicholas pulled your panties down and tossed them aside, his movements confident and deliberate. His hands immediately found your most sensitive spot, his thumbs massaging slow, tantalizing circles against your clit, sending sparks shooting through your body. A moan escaped your lips, muffled against the warmth of Cooper’s neck, but the tremble in your breath gave you away.

Nicholas smirked, clearly pleased with your reaction. “You're so wet,” he murmured, his voice dripping with satisfaction. His words only made the fire in your belly burn hotter. “That’s my good, perfect girl.”

The praise sent a wave of heat rushing through you, and before you could catch your breath, Nicholas moved with purpose. He slid down the bed, lying flat on his back, and with a firm but gentle grip, he guided you over him. “Come here,” he commanded softly, his tone leaving no room for argument. His strong hands gripped your thighs, and he used his biceps to brace you down onto him, holding you firmly in place.

As soon as his mouth met your core, a shudder of pleasure rippled through you. Nicholas’s tongue moved with expert precision, lapping at you with a hunger that left you breathless. The flat of his tongue pressed against your most sensitive spot before he shifted to flick and swirl, his lips sealing around your clit to suck gently.

You tried to keep your composure, to maintain your focus on Cooper, but it was impossible. Your lips faltered against his skin, your head falling back as a strangled moan tore from your throat. Cooper chuckled softly, his hand coming up to steady you as your body trembled.

“Losing focus already?” Cooper teased, his voice low and warm against your ear.

You tried to respond, but Nicholas’s tongue was relentless, his hands gripping your hips to keep you steady as he worked. Your back arched involuntarily, and your hands flew out to brace yourself, one landing on Cooper’s chest while the other tangled in Nicholas’s hair.

Nicholas hummed against you, the vibrations making your thighs quiver. He tilted his head slightly, his tongue diving deeper to explore every inch of you, his pace never faltering. Your breath came in ragged gasps, and your head fell forward, resting on Cooper’s chest as the pleasure built to an unbearable peak.

Nicholas’s hum of approval sent shockwaves through your body, his tongue moving with precision as if he knew exactly how to unravel you. Cooper’s lips on your neck were hot and insistent, his teeth grazing your skin before he soothed the marks with his tongue. His large hands kneaded your breasts, his thumbs flicking over your hardened nipples, each motion sending sparks of pleasure shooting through your chest.

Your moans filled the room, their names tumbling from your lips in a desperate symphony that seemed to drive them further. Nicholas’s voice rumbled against you, low and commanding. “Good girl,” he praised, his hands tightening their grip on your thighs as he worked his tongue deeper, his nose brushing against your sensitive bud in a way that made your toes curl.

Cooper’s hands slid down your sides, grounding you in his touch as his kisses became hungrier, more possessive. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered against your ear, his voice thick with admiration and arousal.

The idea of them putting their differences aside, silently agreeing to focus on your pleasure, sent a new wave of heat surging through you. The coordinated rhythm of their touches left you completely undone, your body trembling as they spurred you closer and closer to the edge.

Your fingers tangled in Cooper’s hair, pulling him closer as your other hand gripped the sheets beneath you. “I—I’m so close Cooper, I'm gonna cum” you gasped, your body teetering on the brink. Nicholas responded with another hum, his tongue circling your sensitive spot with precision, while Cooper pressed his lips to yours, swallowing your moans as you finally shattered.

Your release washed over you in waves, your body arching as you cried out, their names spilling from your lips like a mantra. Nicholas slowed his pace, helping you ride out the high, his hands rubbing soothing circles into your thighs. Cooper held you steady, his kisses softening as he murmured reassurances against your lips.

When the aftershocks subsided, you slumped against Cooper’s chest, your breathing ragged, your body tingling from head to toe. Nicholas looked up at you with a satisfied smirk, his lips glistening. “Told you I’d make you feel good,” he teased, his voice thick with pride. Before sauntering off to the bathroom, he leaned down, capturing your lips in a deep kiss that left you breathless. The taste of yourself lingered on his tongue, and when you bit his lip playfully, a low, guttural moan escaped him. He pulled away with a grin that promised more, leaving you flushed and wanting.

Cooper stayed close, his hands gently stroking your sides before he tilted your chin up and kissed you again. His lips were softer, slower, carrying a tenderness that made your heart flutter. As the kiss ended, he pulled back and reached for his jacket, retrieving a sleek Van Cleef bag.

“While he’s away,” Cooper said, his voice low and intimate, “I wanted to give you this.”

From the bag, he pulled out a delicate Alhambra butterfly necklace. The intricate design shimmered in the soft light, the wings adorned with mother-of-pearl framed by gleaming gold. The craftsmanship was exquisite, each detail reflecting thoughtfulness and care.

Your breath caught in your throat as he stepped closer, holding the necklace carefully. “I know this isn’t a deciding factor,” he continued, his tone earnest, “but even if you end up with him, I know how much you wanted this. You deserve it.”

Speechless, you turned your back to him, your hair falling to one side as he clasped the necklace around your neck. His fingers brushed against your skin, sending a shiver down your spine. Crossing the room, you stopped in front of the vanity, your reflection glowing. The necklace sat perfectly against your collarbone, a symbol of Cooper’s thoughtfulness and affection.

You ran your fingers over the pendant, a soft smile spreading across your lips. The more you looked in the mirror, the more the reality of your situation sank in. Two incredible men, each devoted to your happiness in their own ways. Nicholas, with his passionate intensity and relentless focus on your pleasure. Cooper, with his tender gestures and unwavering desire to see you smile. How could anyone possibly ask for more?

Your fingers lingered at the base of your throat, tracing the butterfly before letting them trail lower, a coy smile tugging at your lips. “You know,” you said, glancing back at Cooper with a spark in your eye, “if you’re going to spoil me like this, I might just have to make it up to you.”

Cooper chuckled, his gaze darkening with desire as he closed the distance between you. “I think I like the sound of that,” he murmured, his hands sliding around your waist, pulling you flush against him.

#lavender baby #nasty remix #nicholas chavez #nicholas alexander chavez #cooper koch #nicholas chavez x reader #nicholas chavez x y/n #nicholas chavez x female reader #cooper koch x reader #cooper koch fanfic #cooper koch imagine #cooper koch smut #nicholas chavez smut #nicholas chavez imagine #nicholas chavez fanfiction

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arc-misadventures · 3 months ago

Note

Can we have Jaune and Coco rag on Cinder for her outfit she wears to blend in at Beacon? Its not very good looking.

(Also is it offensive to have Coco do a gay disappointed stare?l

We Need To Talk

Cinder: Alright, we've got our uniforms, now it's time to blend in with the rest of the students.

Mercury: This should be easy enough to do.

Emerald: They'll just see us as any other student.

Neo: (Rolls her eyes as she fellows these three imbecile)

Cinder: Alright, now all we have to do is mingle a little so we don't stand out as a bunch of loners. Let's ming...?

Jaune: ...

Coco: ...

Cinder: Uhhhh... Hi...?

Jaune: You are wearing... a school uniform...?

Cinder: Of course I am. I'm a student of, Haven Academy, so of course I wear their school uniform.

Jaune: ....

Coco: ...

Coco: It doesn't fit her.

Cinder: What?

Jaune: And, yet... it does?

Coco: It's her face.

Jaune: Partly.

Cinder: My face, what's wrong with my face?

Coco: She looks too old to be a student.

Cinder: Old?!

Coco: But still, the school uniform does fit her.

Jaune: In the porn film category?

Mercury: Pfft!

Coco: Yes, that's why it fits so well! She looks like she's the star in a porn film!

Cinder: EXCUSE ME?!

Jaune: But, not the bland crap you'll find in, Atlas: Girl with pigtails being done in by the school jock.

Coco: Of course not! She has too much class for that! She is more like the kind you find in, Mistral. Where she seduces the shy classmate with a massive package, or is seduced by her teacher showing her how much of a daddy complex she has~!

Cinder: A what complex?

Jaune: Or, she's the milf seducing her daughters schoolmate while wearing her old uniform.

Coco: Nice~!

Cinder: W-W-What...?

Mercury: Piftails?

Emerald: Daddy complex?!

Neo: (Silent laughing!)

Jaune: Overall grading?

Coco: Seven out of ten. She looks good in that school uniform, but she doesn't look that good in it. You?

Jaune: Six out of ten. She just looks too old. Like five years to old to be in school.

Coco: Agreed.

Jaune: There you go, six point five out of ten. Congratulations!

Cinder: Thank you...?

Coco: So, lunch?

Jaune: Yes, I am quite famished.

Cinder: W-What just happened?

Yang: Whoa, that was close...

Cinder: Close?

Yang: Yeah, those two are part of, Beacons Fashion Trio. They judge everyone's fashion, and based on their verdict. You can suffer grave consequences based upon your fashion choices.

Emerald: They judge you based on your fashion taste; What do they do, say really mean things?

Mercury: write you a strongly worded letter?

Emerald: Pfff!

CEM: Hahahahaha!

Yang: They water boarded me.

CEM: HAHA-Ha...?!

Emerald: T-They did what?

Yang: They waterboarded me... for wearing fucking crocs.

Cinder: Y-You're kidding me...

Yang: By the gods I wish I was... So you lot better be careful. If you dress unfashionably... You will learn true fear...!

CEMN: ...

Emerald: The fuck is with these people?!

Cinder: Don't worry, I'm certain nothing bad will happen. Afterall we all dress fabulously~!

~~~

Cinder: BERERERE!?! GERGHERGHERH?!!

(Splash)

Cinder: Bwah! (Cough, Cough, Cough!)

Coco: A leather vest, a leather pauldron, grey tight sports pants, high heel shoes, and fingerless bicker gloves... What the fuck were you think that, that was fashionable?!

Cinder: It was just an outfit!

Jaune: It was a crime against fashion!

Coco: And, don't even get me started on the bandages you're using as a bra! Lady, ditch the bandages! There isn't even anything to show!

Cinder: Hey?!

Coco: Why are you even associated with this walking trash bag, Roman? I thought you had better taste then this?!

Cinder: Roman...?

Roman: Hey, she threatened me into working with her! I've been trying to get out of working with her cronies. You think I want to work with this slob!

Cinder: You betrayed me...?

Roman: I may have made a lot of money working for you. But, the threats to my, and Neo's lives..

Neo: (Smiles, and waves~!)

Roman: And, your plans to destroy, Vale have soured my moods to keep working with you. But, your taste in fashion?! That's too far for me missy!

Cinder: What?!

Glynda: She was going to do what? Roman, why didn't you tell me, I would have dealt with her?

Roman: Her fiery red dress was fashionable enough I let it slide, but this! This thing crosses the line!

Glynda: Understandable. Now tell me what it was she was planning, and I'll get you a plea deal, to avoid a lengthy jail sentence.

Roman: Deal!

Cinder: TRAITOR!

Roman: Oh, pish posh. I was never on your side to begin with. The only side I'm on was mine, Neo's, and fashion!

Cinder: When I get out of here, I am going to gut you like a...?!

Roman: Blah blah blah! Dunk her, Neo!

Cinder: Wait no!

(Spash!)

Cinder: BERGERHUR?!! DURGEHEREDEREDGUR?!!! BUDERDGHER?!

Glynda: She's holding her under rather violently...

Roman: Bitch melted her ice cream.

Glynda: A true monster...

#rwby #jaune arc #yang xiao long #coco adel #cinder fall #mercury black #emerald sustrai #glynda goodwitch #roman torchwick #rwby neo

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silentsamlikesham · 16 days ago

Text

Cat Got Your Tongue? - Zosan Temp!Mute Fic

Thank you to @gingeralejasminetea for the following prompt "sanji or zoro somehow becomes temporarily mute and the other just *happens* to be the only one on the crew that’s able to completely accurately interpret their facial expressions/gestures, leading them to be their translator until their voice comes back" I'm not going to lie I did STRUGGLE with having only one of these idiots being able to speak. I made the brave decision to have Sanji lose the ability to talk and like- Zoro is a man of few words :'D. I'm not fully satisified with the ending to this fic, so maybe someday (not soon) I mayyy write a part 2, we'll see. OKAY ENJOY!! **Not Beta Read. Please excuse any and all mistakes**

Words: 4,350

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Sanji tugged at his red checkered scarf, glaring at the faux grass on the Sunny’s deck as he listened to their tiny doctor finish his explanation to the crew. Chopper had gathered the crew to the deck after finishing his check-up on Sanji after the crew’s last fight. The air was tense from the fury radiating from the chef and he couldn’t bring himself to look at either of the crew’s two fabulous ladies to cheer him up, lest he’s met with eyes of pity.

It was a burst of laughter that broke the silence, the sound reddening Sanji’s face as he turned to glare at the source. Of course, it was the mosshead doubled over the railing, tears streaming down his face as he laughed at Sanji’s expense.

“Zoro!” Chopper chastised, as Nami slapped the swordsman on the arm.

Luffy also began to chuckle from where he was perched under the ship’s mast, Sanji slowly dragged his gaze from Zoro to his captain.

“Sanji, you can still cook meat, right?” Luffy smiled, wide and unapologetic.

The chef nodded his head slowly, confused by the question before he had an armful of his captain to catch as Luffy catapulted himself straight into him. His stretching arms wrapping tightly around Sanji, but careful not to wring around his neck.

“Then let’s have a barbeque!” Luffy decided, the crew laughing and cheering as the mood on the ship changed back to its usual chaotic state.

“Luffy! Don’t squeeze his chest, coughing will be just as bad as talking for his throat.” Chopper wailed, pulling at his Captains foot until Luffy let go of Sanji, unraveling until he snapped back onto the deck.

“Sorry Chopper.” Luffy smiled, not looking the least bit apologetic.

“Does that mean dart-brows can’t smoke, Chopper? I bet that would really slow down the healing process.” Zoro grins, reveling in the look of horror creeping across the cook’s face, slowly twisting into rage as he began marching towards Zoro, his foot already smoking.

The swordsman grinned, his hand going to his nearest hilt as Chopper dived between them.

“NO!” The little reindeer cried out, tears forming in his eyes as he looked between the two of them, knowing the danger of getting in front of either of them when they were about to spar.

“No fighting!” Chopper did his best to keep a wobble out of his voice, relaxing a bit as the two, unwillingly, relaxed their fighting stances. “-and, no smoking.”

Sanji waved his hands around in frustration, pleading with the tiny doctor with his eyes before running a finger across his neck at Zoro to let him know that the swordsman is dead as soon as he recovers.

“Sanji, your throat is really swollen...there’s nothing I can do but tell you to rest it.” Chopper bites his lower lip as it trembles, his voice cracking like he’s about to cry. “Please, just a few days, no smoking, no talking, and-” The small doctor turns to meet Zoro’s eye as he finishes “-no fighting. Okay?”

Sanji looks briefly to the sky, searching the clouds for some strength before he nods at Chopper.

“Whatever.” Zoro yawns, over the whole thing as he realises there’s no more fun to be had. “Not like Curly-brows ever has much to say anyways.”

Sanji’s hands curl into fists as Zoro walks by him, flashing him a shit-eating grin as he knows Sanji can’t bite back with his usual banter and shitty nickname.

“You’ll heal fast, Sanji.” The cook looks down at where Chopper had stopped beside him, looking up at him with his wide eyes and child-like face. “And I’ll check on you every day, so you’ll know when it’s over!”

Sanji lets out a small sigh through his nose, wanting so badly to comfort the little doctor and tell him ‘I know Chopper, you’ve done all you can.’ Instead, all he can do is pat Chopper’s hat and motion for him to follow Sanji into the kitchen. He can’t comfort the doctor with words, but he can give him some chocolate instead.

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

Sanji was doing his usual lunch time rounds, dropping drinks and nibbles in front of his different crew mates. He spun out of the kitchen with his customary enthusiasm and excitement. At the last island they’d stocked up on, he’d managed to pick up some local honey and he had spent the afternoon making sweet protein balls out of it, mixing the honey with oats and some with chocolate.

He skipped over to the ladies first. Robin hiding beneath the cover of an umbrella while Nami lay out in the sun, tanning beneath the relentless rays, her skin sparkling from the sunscreen she’d lathered on her skin.

Sanji was swooning from the sight alone. His throat was aching, twitching as he blew a heavy breath from his lungs, longing to serenade the ladies with an onslaught of compliments and small talk.

Instead, as he approached the ladies with his usual twirling and dancing, he could hear the familiar sounds of sniggering and noticed Usopp, Luffy and Chopper hiding nearby.

“Ooooh Nami-Swannn your skin is as radiant as the sun, let me refresh you with the coolest of drinks and the most divine snacks the new world has ever seen.” Usopp did a terrible impression of Sanji, pretending to hold a cigarette in his fingers as he spoke.

The impression had Luffy and Chopper cackling and rolling on the floor as Sanji sent daggers through his eyes at them. Robin chuckled at the sight, leaving Sanji deflated and flustered as he left her drink and nibbles in front of her. She smiled up at him though, thanking him with a warm look in her eyes. It was enough to easily snap Sanji back from his mood and had him twirling around Nami again.

He managed to make his way over to Usopp while the sharpshooter had his back to him, continuing his poor imitation. Sanji felt marginally better as he got to kick the sniper in the back of the head, sending Luffy and Chopper running in fear and leaving Usopp groaning and overreacting on the ground.

He didn’t even kick him that hard, but still Usopp cried up at him and clung to his leg, begging him to stop.

Sanji tried to shake him off, anxiously glancing at the tray of food and drink as Usopp unbalanced him, dragging him left and right. Sanji didn’t easily drop a tray, and Usopp wasn’t that strong, but fear made the sniper erratic, and Sanji would probably cry in frustration if his shitty situation with his throat led to any food waste.

“Oi, Usopp, knock it off. Curly’s gonna kill you if he drops that tray.”

Sanji froze at the words, startled that he was hearing his thoughts spoken aloud.

He glanced over to the swordsman leaning against the mast, he’d been convinced Zoro had been asleep in the shade. But now the mosshead was watching the pair through his one eye, the gaze feeling more intense and violating than usual.

Usopp squeaked in response, throwing himself off Sanji and scampering several feet back from him. Sanji frowned, glaring at Zoro who held his gaze for a mere second before he shut his eye again. Sanji wasn’t used to losing Zoro’s attention so quickly, usually the pair would be foot to blade by now. Even if Zoro had just helped him out, he would have told the Mossball to shut it and keep out of his business and they’d be several bruises deep into an argument by now.

Instead, Sanji had to swallow the comeback he couldn’t speak and continue upon his deliveries. He handed Usopp his drink with a cold glare, earning himself an apology and flurry of excuses before Usopp insisted on helping him hand the rest out.

He served Zoro last, as usual, and the idiot must have been using his haki because he didn’t wait for a kick to the head to wake him up. His eye opened as Sanji got close, the distance at which Sanji would have usually insulted him and called him a name to get his attention. Zoro put a hand out for his drink without being asked and accepted his plate of blander, unsweetened protein balls without a word.

Sanji stared at him, resisting the urge to bite his lower lip in thought as Zoro eventually gave him another glance.

“What, Curly? Cat got your tongue?”

Sanji’s frown deepened, his brows knitting together before he let out a tsk and stomped towards the galley. Once inside, he fiddled with the scarf around his neck, loosening it and letting the fabric fall into a long loop. He looked at the dark line of bruises in the reflection of a hanging pan above the stove, willing the purple and blue skin to heal.

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

It was day three of Sanji’s induced muteness and he felt like he was really starting to lose his mind. He’d never appreciated how often he used his words to convey things, to join in on the fun around the ship and to stand up for himself.

The last three days had felt like a comical silent movie, chasing Luffy around the ship when he snuck into the galley, rolling his eyes at his ship mates annoying antics and last night, having to throw Usopp from his bed to wake him up to dispose of a spider in the bunk room.

It was infuriating, it was tiring, and Sanji could feel a headache pulsing behind his eyes from the toll it was all taking. On top of the muteness his sore throat was making it difficult to drink, to sleep, to eat. Pain, Sanji could tolerate, but the hunger pangs he was feeling in his stomach were unnerving.

Needless to say, Sanji was on edge. In fact, he was beyond the edge. He was clinging onto his sanity by his fingernails and right now, his current predicament might just be the final straw.

If Sanji cries in the galley because he can’t find the knife Zeff gave him, the one he uses every day, the one that is basically an extension of his hands, then he might just throw himself off the side of the ship.

He was staring at the kitchen island like he was going mad. His hands moving over the cold marble and brushing over the vegetables that were waiting there to be chopped.

He’d just had it. How could a knife grow legs and walk away? He started lifting any plates and tea towels around him, sure he must have thrown them on top of it by mistake.

A hand curled into his fringe, pulling slightly as Sanji let out a huff of pain. He needed a smoke, he needed a cigarette so badly, but he refused to make the healing process go any slower. There was no way he was going through this for more than a few days.

Right as he was about to bang his head off the marble, someone spoke up from the corner of the room. Sanji flushed red as he jumped, he’d been so engrossed in his search and his poor mood that he hadn’t noticed the Mossball slide onto the couch the far side of the dining table.

“It’s by the sink, Cook.” Zoro scoffed, folding his arms and tucking his chin against his chest, clearly about to nod off for a nap. He doesn’t usually do so in the galley but one glance at the falling mist of rain outside, and it made sense.

Sanji stared dumbly at Zoro for a moment. What was the idiot talking about? Beside the sink? He turned his head, his eyes catching the glint of steel as his knife lay just beside the drying rack. He must have left it there when he threw the pans into the sink to soak.

He looked back to Zoro with a raised brow and a wide eye. How the fuck did he know he was looking for his knife?

But Sanji couldn’t ask and from the soft snores filling the galley, Zoro wouldn’t have replied anyways.

Sanji picked up his knife, spinning it gently in his hand as he fiddled with the handle. He chopped up the vegetables in his usual rhythmic routine, but every time he scooped his prep into a bowl, he snuck a glance at the swordsman.

Since when was Zoro a mind reader?

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

By the fifth day, Sanji felt like he was really going insane. No longer because he still couldn’t speak or smoke, but because Zoro was creeping him out. Every time they were in the same room Zoro was making small jabs and comments to Sanji that were almost perfectly in line with the running monologue in Sanji’s head.

It was unnerving to see the Mosshead so aware of someone else. Usually, Zoro brooded in the corner, unmoving in his preference to exclude himself from most shenanigans and conversations on the ship. Now, Sanji was starting to realise the Mosshead was completely aware of what was happening around him and of his crewmate’s thoughts. At least, he seemed to know exactly what was going on in Sanji’s head. The cook was used to feeling that connection with the Mosshead in battle but for the day-to-day stuff, it was startling.

The weirdest thing to happen so far, had happened today. The crew had docked at a small island, inhabited by a group that lived in a village on the southern side of the island.

The log pose was going to take over a day to reset so Luffy had decided they should spend the evening partying on the island and spend a night at a local inn. It hadn’t been an easy thing to arrange with the lovely Nami worried about their budget, but there was no arguing with the captain when he wanted to party, and the rest of the crew were happy to get black out drunk and pass out in a bed that didn’t sway with the ocean.

They’d gone to the nicest restaurant on the island, mainly because Zoro pointed out that Sanji had his eyes on the building from the moment they found the center of the island.

That had been strange enough, that Zoro was actively pushing for something Sanji wanted. But the weirdest part was when they had to order. Usually, Sanji would order for most of the crew. He was easily able to tell what each of them would want most from whatever limited menu they had to order from. Tonight, Zoro hadn’t even paused after his order when he added-

“The curly-brows wants the spicy seafood dish, and a glass of whatever wine will go with it.”

It wasn’t as refined an answer as Sanji would have given the waitress, but it was close enough to the mark that Sanji’s jaw had unlatched as he stared dumbfounded at the brute.

“What?” Zoro scoffed when the waitress disappeared into the kitchen, and he noticed the cook’s eyes on him.

Sanji looked even more pissed off then, wishing more than he had this entire week that he could speak and ask the Swordsman what the fuck was going on.

Instead, the crew interrupted them with their own chatter and chaos and Sanji was forced to sit back in silence for the following hours.

It was only when everyone was heading towards the inn that Sanji had a moment to confront the mosshead. He fell into step with him at the back of the group as they all made their way to the inn. Zoro barely even glanced at him as they walked, and Sanji could feel the tick of annoyance on the back of his head as Zoro stayed silent for nearly the entire stroll.

As they arrived at the inn, Sanji grabbed Zoro’s arm and physically held him back from following the crew through the main entrance,

“What?” Zoro groaned, glancing longingly at where a bed was waiting for him. “What do you want, Cook? Not like you have anything to say.”

Sanji continued to glare at him, his gaze hardening at the callous words.

Zoro eventually glared back, letting out a frustrated tsk as the silence stretched on and Sanji did nothing more than angrily huff at him.

“Look, are we going to fight and not tell Chopper or are you going to let me go the fuck to sleep?”

Sanji’s frown deepened. Surprisingly, he hadn’t been thinking of kicking the moron. He looked away, almost embarrassed by his persistence when he knew he couldn’t voice his frustration. But eventually his glare returned to the Marimo.

He crossed his arms across his chest and tapped his foot insistently, giving Zoro an unamused look. The Mossball just raised his brows in response, like he was egging Sanji to try speak his mind.

“What? What do you want Cook? I’m not a mind reader.”

Sanji groaned angrily at this, waving his arms at Zoro, trying to convey this is exactly what Sanji was trying to speak to him about.

“What? You think I’m a mind reader?”

Sanji just glared in silence now, pursing his lips further.

“Is this about dinner? I should have known you’d be fucking weird about it. You order for me all the time, what’s your problem, did you not like your food?”

Sanji sighed, running a hand through his hair and now deciding it was easier not to look at the Mosshead. He stared stubbornly at one of the lamps hanging off the wall of the inn as he tried to come up with a way to respond.

“That’s not it...” Zoro grumbled, earning Sanji’s attention again as the Cook whipped around to look at him.

Zoro studied him properly then, his one good eye analyzing Sanji’s body language from his feet to his face. It was intimidating, almost embarrassing to have Zoro’s eyes so intensely focused on him, inspecting every shift in Sanji’s stance and ever bounce of his brow.

“Curly, I don’t fucking know what you’re so annoyed about. It’s not my fault you can’t speak.” Zoro sighed, looking tired all of a sudden.

The first mate’s eyes went to Sanji’s scarf. It wasn’t an item of clothing that was remotely needed given the climate of the island, but Sanji had refused to take it off. He didn’t want his cremates staring at the dark reminder of the bruising around his crushed throat. That part, Zoro could understand. Not wanting to show a clear weakness to a crew that often relied on you. He didn’t know why the Cook was bothering him specially though, forcing him into an awkward standstill outside the inn.

At this stage, the pair will be forced to room together, something both of them actively avoided and argued against. By now, the rest of the crew would be buried deep beneath rented duvets as they drifted off to sleep. No one would be willing to swap or listen to Zoro complain.

Sanji sighed loudly in response, looking at Zoro with what he hoped was an exasperated expression. Then, it came to him, the one thing he never needs words for when dealing with Zoro.

He motioned for Zoro to stand still and then made his way around the oaf. He stopped behind Zoro, facing away from the brute and leaning his back against the others.

He can feel the muscles in Zoro’s back tense as he leans his weight against him, can hear the sharp intake of breath the Mossball draws in. Sanji raises his leg gently, the same way he would in a fight and on instinct Zoro’s hand goes to his hilts. As Sanji changes his stance and turns slightly to the right, Zoro automatically reacts, dropping a foot back to cover the left side Sanji opens.

They continue this strange waltz for almost a minute, Sanji almost losing himself in the rhythm as he practices his fight style for the first time since the crews fight several days ago. He pushed himself with a wide arcing kick and as he drew his knee up, he rattles his lungs, forcing an unexpected haggard cough from his throat and ruining his balance as he flinched from the pain of it.

He sways dangerously to the side, his shoulder slipping off Zoro’s and for the first time since he was a kid he feels himself falling from his stance. Before he can crumble to the ground, Zoro shifts behind him, twisting half around until a large hand wraps around Sanji’s bicep, steadying him and stopping his fall.

Sanji blinks owlishly up at the swordsman, holding his breath as he meets a curious but annoyed stare. His face heats up and Sanji hopes the lamp light hides whatever colour is dusting his cheeks.

Sanji doesn’t rush to fix his stance, instead he lets himself hang by Zoro’s grip and brings a finger up to poke pointedly at Zoro’s chest. This is what I’m talking about, shitty Swordsman. He tries to convey the thought in his eyes, in the way he let himself hang there, unfazed if Zoro was going to drop him. It wouldn’t be out of character for the Mosshead, but he knew Zoro would understand the significance of the moment and wouldn’t do it.

He was proven right by Zoro grunting and averting his gaze, a faint blush on his cheeks now complimenting Sanji’s own. He tugged at Sanji’s arm and eventually pulled the Cook to stand upright again, dropping his arm like it burned.

“Cook.” Zoro sighed tiredly, wiping a hand over his face and pushing his knuckles against his eyelids in the hope of focusing his mind a bit. “Are you freaking out because I can read you like an open book?”

Sanji snorted at the phrase, crossing his arms tightly across his chest in distress. Zoro could not read him like a book, Sanji was not that straight forward a man. Zoro clearly was just...just...fuck, what was Zoro doing?

“Curly, you’re not fucking subtle. You express every little emotion in that frantic head of yours the second you think or feel anything.”

Sanji scoffs in disagreement, his eyes narrowing at Zoro’s words as he fiddles uncomfortably with a thread on his suit’s sleeve. The Swordsman was talking nonsense.

“Like right now, you act like you don’t believe a word I’m saying but you’re ripping your sleeve apart because you know I’m right and that makes you freak out and fidget with the nearest thing possible.”

Zoro takes a step closer to Sanji then. His words force Sanji to drop his sleeve and rest his hands by his side, his fingers twitching at the loss. He glares up at the ever so slightly taller man and meet’s his eye without hesitation. Their chests are almost touching, their foreheads inches from one another and Sanji is swallowing every bit of panic swelling in his chest because if he backs down from Zoro now, then it’s going to seem like Zoro is right.

Which he’s not. He’s not freaking out over what Zoro is saying. There’s no way it’s true, Sanji may have his heart on his sleeve for the ladies but otherwise he’s a secretive guy. He’s hidden his upbringing from the crew, hiding his surname from the entire world, fooling even those who print the bounty posters. He’d lied effortlessly in the past, getting the crew out of some tough spots. Sanji was clever, he could be sly, secretive, a mystery.

No one knew what was going on in his head. They might think they do but no one could guess what he was really thinking most of the time. Except apparently, Zoro could. Zoro who hated Sanji most days and who he had thought only understood him when Sanji’s shoe was buried in the side of his head.

“You can deny it all you’d like, Sanji.” Sanji choked on his own spit, coughing brutally as Zoro just grinned, leaning in closer as he reveled in catching the Cook further off guard.

“But I see you. I see right through the bullshit.”

With that, Zoro flashed him a chesire grin, ruffled a hand through Sanji’s hair and brushed past the red-faced cook without another glance.

“Don’t wake me up when you come into the room, or I’ll skewer you.”

The sound of the inn door opening and closing echoed through the empty street. Sanji stayed standing in the center of the cobblestone lane, trying to catch his breath after his mini coughing fit and doing his best to will the flush from his face.

Maybe he could blame that part on the alcohol.

I see you.

Sanji groaned, grabbing a fistful of his hair as he doubled over on the street. What the fuck did that mean? Also, using his real name like that? The bastard had to have known that would get to him.

What an asshole. There’s no way Zoro was intelligent enough to understand a fraction of how Sanji felt or thought about things. He was just getting lucky and using the coincidence to rile the cook up. You can deny it all you’d like- That fucking smug- Sanji wished he could scream at the twinkling stars above.

Sanji spent far too long loitering in the street before he could force himself to march into the inn and face sharing a room with the guy. Hopefully, he was asleep by now, and Sanji knew for a fact he’d be gone long before the oaf woke up in the morning.

He decided the next time he was willing to face the Swordsman, was when he could speak again. Then he could give the asshole a piece of his mind, put the brute in his place and let him know just how wrong he was about everything.

That, or he could just smother him in his sleep.

That would be easier than admitting to himself that his entire perception of the brute had been flipped on its head tonight.

#zosan #roronoa zoro #sanji #zosan fanfic #one piece zosan #fanfic #zoro x sanji #one piece sanji #one piece zoro #zosan fic #No beta we die like Luffy in Filler episode titles #temporary mute character #idiot in love #fic requests

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autumnmobile12 · 2 years ago

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7 Ways to Introduce the Villain.

1. The Shadow

A lot of series go with the classic 'ominous shadowy figure in the background.' Here's Silco in Arcane. Sinister voice, sinister dude, sinister intent. Boom, you have your villain.

2. The Slow Reveal

Other variations of the 'shadowy figure' in which the series draws out the reveal of the villain. Avatar: The Last Airbender doesn't reveal the Firelord until the final season, but his presence is felt throughout the series. He's always this looming threat whose will is carried out by his underlings. (General Zhao, Azula, etc.)

3. The Fabulous Entrance!

Okay, so we do hear Ragyo on the phone a couple times before they actually show her face, but goddamn, this entrance. It is impressive and terrifying and, it perfectly suits the utter psycho that she is.

There is no normal expression this woman makes when she's 'happy.' She's always smug or angry or annoyed, but this face with her staring, manic eyes and smile still haunts me. Send help.

4. The Sudden Entrance

Shigaraki kinda comes out of nowhere in My Hero Academia. For the first few episodes, its all lighthearted and fun and dealing with Bakugo's BS and then the class heads off on a field trip and suddenly,

"Oh, shit! Plot is happening!"

This series started off with kids learning to be heroes, and now its tragedy and social upheaval and people's lives are in danger.

5. The Incognito Entrance

This is when some random nonthreatening dude/lady just kinda sidles into the plot the be the butt of a joke and later turns out to have been one of the villains.

This scene was so weird. Tyki is just minding his own business, scamming people at cards. Then Allen and Lavi show up looking for their friend (the guy currently being scammed), and even though he recognizes them as exorcists and his enemies, Tyki has to sit there and play it off like he doesn't know jack cause if he does anything, he's gonna blow his cover in front of his human buddies. And then he suffers the indignation of being stripped in a poker game in broad daylight because the main protagonist is absolutely evil with a card deck. And then he just walks away from this like it's a totally normal thing, not even really taking vengeance for it. (He went after Allen, sure, but that was more of a job than any personal vendetta.) He's not the main villain, but I couldn't resist pointing out how bizarre this is.

For those who haven't seen D. Gray Man, the guy in the center is one of the main antagonists, and though this is technically the second time you see him, the first encounter was so short it was practically a cameo and he was a Victorian-era, Dorian Gray dandy gentleman, not this hobo riding a train.

6. The Traitor

Since the Undertaker was more of a neutral party in Black Butler, I don't think he really counts as a traitor. Still, I don't think too many of us were suspecting the morbid jokester Grim Reaper was going to turn out to be a major antagonist later on.

7. The Protagonist

And sometimes the protagonist is the villain!

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brian-in-finance · 1 month ago

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Inside Unfinished Business • Part 2

🧵Outlander_ Starz: Kristin Atherton faced not only the challenge of taking over a role previously played by Laura Donnelly, but also took on *two* different time periods! Said Director Stewart Svaasand, "Kristin had no easy scenes. Straight into the meat." Said Caitríona Balfe, "Stepping into a role set by another actor is one of the hardest things to do... but Kristin really knocked it out of the park... She was wonderful."

Learn how Costume Designer Trisha Biggar approached Jenny's looks in 1739 and 1778.

We see Jenny's younger self in 1739, where she's sort of adventurous. We kept her in a very youthful lilac heather tweed, fresh and matching with the countryside. When we saw her again in the 1770s, we put her into more autumnal, natural colors, russets and warm browns and red tones, moving from the youthful, fresh colors into slightly softer, more mature colors.

We used antique pieces in both time periods. In 1739, the fashion for women was stomachers, which fit down the center front of a lady's bodice. Women could have one bodice and several stomachers to make different outfits. The apron was a fashionable thing in the later 1770s that women wore decoratively rather than just practically. — TRISHA BIGGAR, COSTUME DESIGNER

🧵Outlander_ Starz: “Clothes were worn very much forever, as long as they lasted, and often adapted to a future fashion... it wasn't unusual for items of clothing to be handed down," says Costume Designer Trisha Biggar.

This theme comes to life in this episode, first as we glimpse both Brian Fraser in the leather coat we've seen passed down to Jamie before, and as Old lan gifts Young lan his tweed coat upon his departure as a memento.

🧵Outlander_ Starz: I can never get enough of the costume department's fabulous sketches. Take a look at some from this episode below!

🧵Outlander_ Starz: Hair and Makeup Designer Ann McEwan had nothing but compliments for Nell Hudson on her willingness to let the team run with her looks over the years. "She'll age. She'll look ugly. She'll look pretty. Whatever needs to be done!"

As for Laoghaire's current wig... the team keeps it in the family. It once was worn by Annette Badland when playing Mrs. Fitz, Laoghaire's grandmother, in Season 1!

🧵Outlander_ Starz: That's all for this week. Learn even more about the episode, plus answers to fan questions, with The Official Outlander Podcast, hosted by Showrunner Matthew B. Roberts! Listen here: Spotify 🎧 Apple 🎧 Note: unable to link 🎧🎧… 🤷🏻‍♂️… see my S07E09 Official Podcast post

Inside Unfinished Business • 2 of 2

Threads 🧵

Remember… stepping into a role set by another actor is one of the hardest things to do... but Kristin really knocked it out of the park... She was wonderful. — Caitríona Balfe

#Tait rhymes with hat #Good times #Outlander #Inside Outlander #S07E09 #Unfinished Business #Part 2 #Threada

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angie-words · 4 months ago

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Rivals Interview & Photoshoot

CW for mentions of sex, nudity

Highlights from the article (abridged! Full article by Caitlin Moran here):

Jilly Cooper’s raunchy Rivals: ‘You will see a lot of willies’

It’s taken 36 years, but finally Jilly Cooper’s legendary bonkbuster Rivals is on TV. Caitlin Moran — who was such a fan, she changed her name to one of the book’s characters — meets the author and stars on set and asks: how was it for you?

Guess where I am.

Oh my gosh — I am in RUTSHIRE.

If you own one of the multimillion copies sold of Jilly Cooper’s infamous Rutshire Chronicles books, you will a) be as excited as me, and b) know exactly where I am.

Yes, I am standing in front of a beautiful, honey-coloured mansion.

Yes, it is a beautiful summer’s day.

Yes, the herbaceous borders are magnificent.

Yes, there are adorable dogs milling around.

Yes, there are champagne bottles strewn hither and yon.

And yes, everyone is dressed in alternately fabulous, or ridiculous, Eighties outfits, with gigantic hair.

The ladies have electric-blue eyeshadow and golden, heaving bosoms.

The men, meanwhile, have tanned legs, huge Rolexes — and, in many instances, their gigantic hair manifests lower down: in moustaches like that of Tom Selleck.

And yes, of course, there is drama. David Tennant — wearing a lavish, gold, silken man-blouse and sucking on a cigar — is furious. He is savaging a roomful of party people, all looking stricken — and all, incongruously, wearing swimwear.

“How the f*** has this happened?” Tennant screams, as all the tits and legs fidget, gaudy piña coladas abandoned. “Get the f*** out there and sort this out! And why are you all wearing bikinis?”

Tennant storms from the room, apoplectic with rage — and then sees me.

“Oh, hello, darling,” he says, all sweetness and light.

“CUT!” the director calls.

Today, David Tennant isn’t, of course, David Tennant. He’s Tony Baddingham, the infamous, nominative-determinist baddie of Jilly Cooper’s Rivals.

“So, is this fun?” I ask him.

The last time I saw him on set, he was being the Doctor in Doctor Who, in a floor-length coat, trying to save the world from being exploded. Again. In the rain. In Wales. At 1am.

“Oh yes,” Tennant says. “I mean, look at my blouse. It’s like my aunt’s! Actually, I think it might be hers — it closes right to left. Don’t men’s buttons close left to right? Am I wearing,” he asks the room at large, “a woman’s blouse?”

“We need to go again, David,” the director says.

“Back in a tick,” Tennant says, running back on set, sucking on his cigar. Getting ready to be really evil, and Eighties, again.

-----

When it comes to the atmosphere on set, I later talk to David Tennant about this subject.

“Yes — there was a lot of due diligence about only having … joyful people on set. Crew and cast,” Tennant says, carefully.

(Dominic) Treadwell-Collins - executive producer - is more forthright.

“We had a very strict ‘no arseholes’ policy,” he says.

-----

Your mother was a Jilly Cooper fan? And, therefore, presumably … a Rupert Campbell-Black fan?

“My mum, you know … blushed when I told her [I’d got the role],” (Alex) Hassell admits. “A lot of women blushed when I told them.”

I’m interviewing Hassell, 44, and Tennant, 53, together. As a former Doctor, Tennant has, of course, a lot of experience in playing a role women find attractive.

“Once you’ve made [Rupert Campbell-Black] flesh, I think a lot of people are going to find it difficult to interact with you, Alex,” he says, helpfully.

It seems Hassell is aware of this.

“Yes,” he says. “One friend, when I told her, said, ‘Oh, that’s a bean-flicker role!’ I said, ‘Ah, I see.’ ”

“Huh. I don’t think I’ve ever had anyone come up to me and say, ‘I’ve masturbated thinking about you,’ ” Tennant says, thoughtfully.

“David!” Hassell exclaims, hurt. “When we met, that’s the first thing I said.”

-----

“Tony’s from a lower class, while Rupert was born with an entire silver cutlery canteen in his mouth,” Tennant says. “So whatever Tony does, he never has that class advantage. Tony needs to taste the blood of his betters in his mouth to make him feel better. Rupert’s blood.”

“And while Rupert is, in many ways, a shit,” Hassell says, thoughtfully, “he’s not a bad man, like Tony. Tony is jealous of Rupert. He wants his house, his women, his life.”

Accordingly, this suit-based class war plays out as Campbell-Black tries to take over Baddingham’s TV station — and the backstabbing, shenanigans, shagging and skulduggery commence.

-----

The tennis court at Cooper’s house is the setting for one of her most iconic scenes — where Campbell-Black first meets his love interest, Taggie, while he’s playing naked tennis. He is adjudged to have lost a match point because something is over the line. Oh, why am I being so coy? This is Jilly Cooper. It’s his penis. His massive penis is judged to be over the line. A note to diehard fans: this scene is shot exactly as written. You will see a lot of willies.

“We’ve been equal opportunities in our nudity,” Treadwell-Collins says. “There’s a willy for every pair of tits.”

“That was my great disappointment over the TV show,” Cooper sighs. “The tennis court is a terrible mess — no one’s played on it for 20 years — and I thought [Disney] might be darlings and build me a new one.”

She looks around, hopefully.

“Do you think anyone here has some booze?” she asks. “It is the afternoon.”

Cooper has been an invaluable muse to everyone on set while filming. In one scene, she handed over an urgent note that read, “Rupert would never say ‘spouse’ — that’s very lower-middle [class]. He would say ‘wife’.”

She argued for particularly Cooperesque jokes and puns to stay in, and was firm that the whole “First of May” tradition remain.

“Oh, yes,” she says, looking delighted, and then quotes herself. “ ‘First of May, first of May — outdoor f***ing starts today. But if as usual it do rain, we f*** off indoors again.’ ”

This ribald rhyme kicks off a massive shagging montage, involving the entire cast. And all outdoors, of course.

-----

I can’t tell you what fun it is interviewing all the Rivals people. Because of the show, everyone talks about their memories of the Eighties (David Tennant: “No, my Eighties weren’t like a Jilly Cooper book — I was at school in Paisley with my glasses held together with sticky tape, and a very unappealing haircut”), and smoking (Hassell: “Everyone smoked everywhere, didn’t they? Even on planes. They’d draw across that little … health curtain, and everyone smoked behind it”), and how hard it was to leave Cooper’s world when shooting finished (Hassell: “No one was looking at me like I’m the most sexy man on the planet any more. It was tough.”)

-----

In the event, (Aidan) Turner, 41, is an absolute hoot — particularly on the subject of the massive moustache he sports on the show. It is a magnificent specimen of upper-lip pelt. It looks like a vole fell asleep under his nose.

It looks like the one Ned Flanders has on The Simpsons, I tell him.

Turner gives a huge, barking laugh.

“Ned Flanders? I mean, I was thinking more … Irish stag? Super-masculine?”

He starts giggling again.

Turner’s relaxed stance towards his sex god-dom comes with an interestingly meta twist. In Rivals, one of Baddingham’s TV shows is called Four Men Went to Mow — where sexy farmers, sexily stripped to the waist, carry out sexy agricultural duties.

Turner, of course, infamously stripped to the waist a few times in Poldark, for that scything scene or lying in bed or emerging from the sea. In a pleasingly postmodern moment, one scene sees Turner rail against Four Men Went to Mow — raging, almost camply, “TV can’t just be men taking their tops off!”

Rivals is on Disney+ from October 18

#i am looking respectfully #david tennant fandom #David Tennant #david tennant #rivals jilly cooper #jilly cooper #aidan turner #alex hassell #bonkbuster #good omens #crowley

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hotvintagepoll · 9 months ago

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Propaganda

Anne Baxter (The Ten Commandments, All About Eve)—her soft, gentle voice in "all about eve", those gentle eyes with something odd behind them, the way she flips from Sweet Innocent to Viper on a dime......there was something Built Different about anne baxter, man, and it makes her so good for playing people who are Built Wrong. also one of my favorite batmen villains (her joint episode w vincent price is a delight) and of course I'm obsessed with her columbo episode where she bosses around edith head and does fabulous movie star things for no good reason. and i would be REMISS if i didn't mention her slink—oh the slink—in the ten commandments...................pardon me i must go think of sinning again

Waheeda Rehman (Chaudhvin Ka Chand, Pyaasa, Sahib Bibi Aur Ghulam)—90+ films and counting, an absolute legend of Hindi cinema. When I see her in Sahib Bibi Aur Ghulam it makes me want to chew glass

This is round 3 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Anne Baxter:

The prettiest murderer in that film. Just so beautifully evil as Nefertari.

Anne Baxter was part of my Bisexual Awakening. My family has a tradition that every Palm Sunday we watch The ten commandments on TV together... And starting from a very young age, I essentially developed a crushes on Anne Baxter's Nefertiri & Yul Brynner's Ramses. Dude, the woman was HOT! They both were! My crush definitely wasn't helped by the fact that Anne Baxter's costumes were a bit on the sheer side. She had a way of capturing you with her eyes, and I never understood why Charlton heston's Moses didn't just have a threesome with Nefertiri and Ramses. LOL

Her Nefertiri in The Ten Commandments was FORMATIVE TO ME. If not the hottest old movie lady, then she definitely played the hottest old movie character. if that makes sense.

Look. Listen. I only *just* discovered her on a post from the Have You Seen This Romcom poll blog. Saw she had the same last name as me and went OOH hi hello. Went to her IMdB and saw she was born in Indiana like moi. I am now even more intrigued. Been eagerly telling my partner this, and he was like "maybe you guys are distantly related?" And after 2 hrs of going down the tumblr tag + her imdb photos, I'm In Deep(tm) and I can't stop looking at her like 😍 When I go to my grandma's house, bet your ass I'm gonna check my grandpa's genealogy and see if we're somehow related. Sorry that's not really propaganda I just got real excited, esp when I saw that the submission deadline was extended (bless your soul). Narrowing down the movies where she's hottest in was Hell tyvm. I've only just discovered her, she looks gorgeous to me in every movie still I see of her gdi lol.

Waheeda Rehman propaganda:

Linked gif

Linked gif 2

#waheeda rehman #anne baxter #hotvintagepoll #fuck that old woman #ladies 3

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honeyjars-sims · 2 months ago

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Drag Superstar Episode 5: The Finale

Diamond: Hello and welcome to the finale of Drag Superstar! Tonight we will be catching up with all of the contestants and finding out who will be crowned this season's Ultimate Drag Superstar!

As always, I'm joined by my fantastic panel of judges. Please welcome Diego Lobo, Penny Pizzazz, and Izzy Fabulous! Judges, who do you think will be taking home the crown tonight?

Diego: For me, it has to be Lady Astrid! The artistry she's brought is unmatched!

Penny: I love Lady Astrid, but I haven't been able to get Vapore LaWave out of mind mind since the acting challenge!

Izzy: I'm rooting for Velvet Envy. She's serving up glamour on a silver platter, and I'm eating it up!

Diamond: Thank you, judges! Before we crown our winner, let's see what life has been like for our queens since the season started. First up, it's Kylee Kouture. Kylee, your time on the show was short, but you've had social media buzzing.

Kylee: Yes, the internet can't get enough of my looks--and okay, maybe I've been running my mouth a bit, too!

Diamond: I heard that you and Jacqueline had some beef on Social Bunny. Can you tell me about that?

Kylee: Well, apparently some old, bitter queens can't handle us younger girls getting attention.

Jacqueline: I'll tell you exactly what happened, Diamond. All I've heard from the clubs I've been performing in is how Kylee is always late, she's being a diva, she's cancelling gigs...so yes, I had some words with her on SB about how you have to earn your dues in this business.

Kylee: Yeah, whatever. Jealousy is an ugly trait. Anyway, my follower count shows who the public really loves.

Jacqueline: The followers you bought?

[The other queens laugh]

Diamond: Ok, let's move on. Darla, how has life been for you after the show?

Darla: It's been great, Diamond! Despite our conflicts in the girl group challenge, I've gotten close to Vixen and Vapore. And I'm releasing a single!

Diamond: A single???

Darla: Yes, I took some voice lessons and I've really improved!

Jacqueline: I've heard they're doing amazing things with autotune these days!

Darla: [laughing] Okay, I'll admit there was a lot of autotuning, but it's a fun track!

Diamond: I can't wait to hear it! Vixen, how is your ankle?

Vixen: It's doing fine! I had some physical therapy and it's healed well. I'm happy that it hasn't impacted my burlesque act!

Diamond: I'm so happy to hear that! And I want to let you know that you're welcome to rejoin us next season to have another shot at competing!

[The queens applaud]

Vixen: Thank you so much! No more injuries, I promise!

Diamond: I'm going to hold you to that! Valerie, when you left the show, you were dealing with some difficulties at home. How are things going now?

Valerie/David: Well, Diamond, everything has been wonderful! My son was going through a rough time, but he really turned it around. I'm really proud of him! I'm proud of all of my children. My oldest daughter is getting married and touring with her band, and my younger daughter is starting a business.

Diamond: That's fantastic! It seems like you didn't have anything to worry about after all.

Valerie/David: That's right. It's a relief knowing that I've set my kids up with a good foundation. Even when times get tough, they know how to pull through. I've learned I can't control everything, but I also don't need to.

*I forgot to take a solo pic of Jacqueline, oops

Diamond: What a wonderful lesson to learn! Thank you Valerie. Now it's time to catch up with our finalists, starting with Jacqueline Galloway. Has your life changed since the show?

Jacqueline: Well, you've already heard about my conflicts, but there have been a lot of positives as well. I've been booked and busy. It turns out you can teach an old dog new tricks!

Diamond: Tell me about it! Any more social media fights in your future?

Jacqueline: I'm going to try to let my career do the talking from now on.

Diamond: Wise decision. Lady Astrid, how has the show impacted your life?

Lady Astrid: In the best ways, Diamond! I have more time and money to work on new looks and it's really pushed me as an artist. Plus, I've had a lot of trans youth tell me I've inspired them to express themselves freely.

Diamond: That must make you feel good!

Lady Astrid: It really does. It shows how important visibility is to our community.

Diamond: Absolutely! Thank you, Lady Astrid. Next up, Vapore LaWave. How has life after the show surprised you?

Vapore: Well, going into this competition, I never thought of myself as being a funny person. But everyone really loved my campy performance in the acting challenge!

Diamond: You were hysterical!

Vapore: Thank you! Since the show, I've been taking acting lessons. I'm always up for expanding my skill set!

Diamond: That's great! Best of luck to you! And last but not least, it's Velvet Envy! Velvet, how do you feel about your performance on the show?

Velvet: I'm feeling very proud! I didn't know what to expect going in, but I'm happy that I not only won a challenge, but I've made it all the way to the finale.

Diamond: It's well deserved!

Velvet: Thank you! I never thought I would come this far when I started doing drag on a whim years ago!

Diamond: And look at you now! Thank you to all of my queens for making this a season to remember.

Diamond: And now it's the moment you've all been waiting for. I've taking the opinions of the judges and the viewers into consideration, but ultimately this was my decision to make. The winner of this season of Drag Superstar, our Ultimate Drag Superstar, is...

[dramatic pause]

Diamond: Lady Astrid!!!

[confetti falls from the ceiling as everyone applauds]

Condragulations, Lady Astrid! Do you have any words to share?

Lady Astrid: This is for anyone who's ever been told that they can't be who they are. Let our voices of love drown out the hate!

Thank you to @sirianasims for sharing Lady Astrid and Velvet Envy with me, and @invisiblequeen for Vapore LaWave! I enjoyed having them in this project!

Previous | Beginning of story | Beginning of chapter | Next

#ts4 #sims 4 #ts4 story #simblr #sims storytelling #sims story #simlit #sims community #sh:dragsuperstar #stksafeharbor #safeharborstory #sh:chapter3 #sh:david #lady astrid by sirianasims #velvet envy by sirianasims #vapore lawave by invisiblequeen

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brittle-doughie · 11 months ago

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Let’s Get Rolling! | Looking into the Lights, Camera, Action! Event for CROB!

So the movie nerd, Popcorn Cookie, isn’t going to the Chocolate Factory with that golden ticket, but to see the filming site for what Butter Squid Cookie has got cooking up.

Only issue is that the actress is unable to make it to the set, leaving the stunt double, Choco Bar Cookie, to get the lead role! So for the event itself, it’s essentially the exact same event we’ve had for the last few updates, get and do favors as well as combine items for hard mode.

So the special draw event returns from the Wish Camp update, except this time there’s also a surprise exchange shop that allows you to get outfits or designs that you missed in past updates!

Choco Bar Cookie herself is pretty cute, would definitely add her to my wife collection and if her base design isn’t sitting well with you, hopefully her skin more then makes up for it because oh my lord-

Shine Muscat, Habanero, and Blue Slushy Cookie also get skins too. With Popcorn Cookie getting a fabulous skin in part 2!

Buttercream Choco Cookie has finally returned by the Buddy event! Bring your buddies to play the mode to obtain him!

In the Romance stage, who is this lady we’re chasing and how did I get the devs to put her in my game. In the Zombie stage, we meet some familiar walkers, where have I seen them before…?

Overall, they were not lying when they said that this would help a substantial update, there are so many things to look forward to that it might leave you overwhelmed! MicMac has addressed the event repetition in the official discord, hopefully, we can see a return to varied event modes some day.

———————————————————————

Busy chasing your co-star through the stage, following after the one you love was the pinnacle of romantic excitement in the eyes of Butter Squid Cookie!

“Come follow, my love! Have a little encouragement from me!”

She blew you a kiss in the form of a small heart that floated towards you. You went to get it promptly, feeling more encouraged to follow your heart that had your co-star in it! (In the premise of the movie of course)

Butter Squid Cookie was pleased with the results he was seeing so far, such warm love between two cookies that was sure to bring a tear to the eyes of audiences! He had to give you credit, for someone unfamiliar with acting, you were a natural!

But now time for the big moment! You were now supposed to catch your co-star and give each other the declaration of love and then a kiss!

Choco Bar Cookie got a little nervous with that plan, was it really necessary? The kiss part? Why not just a hug, you know? That would get the message across just fine. There was no need to be all theatrical all the time, you know?

Butter Squid saw her suggestion as nonsense, a kiss was the only way to execute the romantic tension flawlessly!

You told your co-star that she made your heart flutter, that no other cookie made you feel this way, that you wanted to spend your life with her.

Your co-star blushed heavily from your words, that was some pretty good on command blushing!

“Oh, my Y/N Cookie! My heart can’t stand being apart from you either! Please, let me be the cookie you love now and forever!”

The two of you leaned in, getting closer and closer, you see her eyes twinkle as she closed them, readying her lips as you did the same…

Before a director chair is thrown between you two!

Scaring you both faraway from each other. Butter Squid looked at Choco Bar with shock as she breathed heavy, having just thrown that chair a second ago.

“Sorry. My hands slipped.”

#brittle speaks #cookie run ovenbreak #cr ovenbreak #crob #cookie run x you #cookie run x reader #cr x reader #cookie run #crob x you #crob x reader #cookie run ovenbreak x reader

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rantingravingliving · 3 months ago

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Servings of sass

from The Park Jimin is what you need to get through hump day and the rest of the week. Enjoy SassyMin with a side of iconic lines from movies and TV.

"I'm sorry that people are so jealous of me... but I can't help it that I'm so popular." - Mean Girls

"What, like it's hard?" - Legally Blonde

"You are an awful person." "Maybe, but I'm rich and I'm pretty so it doesn't really matter." - Scream Queens

"Ugh, as if!" - Clueless

“Hello, my name is Fabulous.” - Sex and The City

"A-ca-scuse me? Synchronized lady dancing to a Mariah Carey chart-topper is not lame!" - Pitch Perfect

"By all means, move at a glacial pace. You know how that thrills me." - The Devil Wears Prada

"I'm not doing anything else for men today." - That 70s Show

“Listen up, fives! A TEN is speaking!” - 30 Rock

"I'm a cold goddess." - High Society

"Maybe I am a total bitch did you ever think about that?" - Gossip Girl

"Honey, I don’t look. I’m looked at." - Will and Grace

#the park jimin #park motherfucking jimin #SassyMin is a sight to behold #Sassy Libra incoming #jimin #jimtober is the best

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whoistartaglia · 1 year ago

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come one, come all

there’s a fabulous magic show in town hosted by the two most famous magicians in fontaine. you unknowingly meet one of them—lyney, a man with a smile full of secrets—in a quiet bar in monstadt.

lyney x reader (pre-release)

there’s a curious man sitting next to you at the bar.

the tavern you frequent is located in a small village at the edge of monstadt, known to host the occasional traveler and adventurer, but none as peculiar as him. his clothes are clean and fashionable, and there’s a look on his face like he knows more secrets than you, has more tricks up his sleeve. moreover, what’s stranger is that he ordered only one drink and has yet to touch it, only observing it, faintly reminding you of a moth studying a flame.

“is something wrong with it?” the man breaks out of his hypnosis at your teasing question, and looks up in suprise. you explain, “i know the bartender, and he’s really great. if something’s the matter with your drink i know he’ll replace it.”

“oh, no,” he says dismissively. “it’s nothing like that. i was just interested in it—we don’t have this brand of wine where i’m from.”

“and where’s that?”

“fontaine,” he replies simply, and yes, now that he says it, you can hear the distinct accent.

“why are you in monstadt?”

“for the same reason everyone else is, i imagine,” he replies, taking a ginger sip from the glass. “for the show.”

ah, yes, the show. a magic show, famous in fontaine and most of teyvat for its impressive tricks and wonderous miracles. you’ve been hearing of it since the twin magicians announced their arrival to monstadt to entertain and wow the masses.

that’s why there are more than an abundance of travelers, adventurers, foreigners, in monstadt. some of them have tickets; many don’t. they hope the magicians will take pity on them and spirit a ticket to them in the middle of the night. or maybe they intend to steal one from actual holders. perphaps a bit of both.

“are you also going?” he presses.

you purse your lips and look down. “no, i’m not.” the tickets were too expensive and too difficult to get your hands on.

“did you want to?”

“of course i did,” you respond, the words coming out more bitter than you intended. it’s the closest thing to magic the world has to offer. tricks to make you forget it’s only an act; displays to dazzle even the most prudent of disbelievers. card tricks, doves from hats, sawing a lady in half and convincing the audience she’s actually been split in two.

of course you want to go. anyone in teyvet would, especially you, who comes from a small town in monstadt, who may never see anything like it again.

“i see,” is all the man says.

there’s an uncomfortable silence you feel obligated to break, and you ask after a second, forcing the lingering bitterness out of your tone, “are you going to watch?”

“yes,” he says, hesitating. “i am…going.”

“do you have a good seat?”

he smiles faintly.

“the best in the house.”

“i’m glad.” you swallow and stand up, placing down enough coins for you and the stranger. he watches you with veiled interest, especially the way you straighten up and conceal the frown creeping on your face.

“i should go,” you tell him. “i’ve got a long day tomorrow.”

“yes, you do” he says faintly, agreeing with you. before you can opine on the strange statement, he smiles. “it was wonderful to meet you.”

you turn and leave, waving to the bartender wiping down the bar as you do. before you’re out the door, he calls, “i shall see you tomorrow!”

you pause and turn back around, intent on correcting the man, but he’s already gone—leaving nothing but a golden, shimmering ticket left in his wake.

•••

it’s a trick, a lie, a falsity. your subconscious screams at you that the piece of paper in your hand, that reads admit one in black inky letters, is a fake. it can’t be real—there’s no way.

yet you find yourself traveling to the shining capitol, with the ticket clutched in your hands. the wind begs to rip it away and the crowded streets tempts it to get lost and stolen, but you hold on tight, your grip only loosening when you hand it to the collectors at the front entrance.

they let you in without a second glance, and still in a state of disbelief, you find your seat, front row, center spot. best seat in the house. you look around for the man you saw last night but he is nowhere to be found, and a part of you wonders it he gave up your ticket for you. but that doesn’t make sense, you just met, it’s too peculiar, too much like a fairytale, a magic spell, come true.

your wandering thoughts are caged and tamed at the diming of the lights. you turn and face the center where a spotlight shines and a puff of smoke reveals two figures. the twin magicians. lyney and lynette.

the crowd errupts in applause, it’s the first trick of the evening, and you join in, until the smoke fades, and the magicians come into view. the sister with cat-like ears smiles adoringly at the crowd, and the brother does the same. but whereas lynette’s eyes are roaming, meeting as many fans as possible, lyney’s have yet to leave you.

at your shock and surprise, lyney dips his head slightly, and smiles, all too familiar from last night. turning back to the main crowd, he introduces himself and his sister, and announces to the crowd.

“come one, come all! we have a great show in store for you! magic will be casted, miracles with be had, and...” his eyes find yours again, and winking he continues, “hearts will be stolen, tonight.”

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xzinbdg · 5 months ago

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boynextdoor as songs from my playlist!

ᯓ★ sungho

daydreamin' - ariana grande

this song just feels like sungho! and he definitely got me daydreaming about him 😭😭😭

you're here that's the thing - beabadoobee

i have this habit of looking for sungho when there's all six of them like he just catches my eye easily

les - childish gambino

"baby you're the baddest" and damn right he is! sungho is one of the prettiest men i have ever seen 🥹 yeppi indeed 🤭

ᯓ★ riwoo

get into it (yuh) - doja cat

i honestly could watch riwoo dancing for 24/7 it's so good like get it babe!!! slay the dance floor!!!

darling - taeyang

are we surprised? this song is his atp everytime I hear it i just hear his voice 😭 drop the full cover pls

nervous - the neighborhood

idk what it is about riwoo but he makes me immensely nervous 😭 like i don't think I would ever be able to look this man in the eyes....

ᯓ★ jaehyun

mamacita - chase atlantic

the vibes!!!!!! this song is so myungjae coded!!! honestly i can see him listening to it!

standing next to you - jungkook

again are we suprised? this man takes being a jk stan to another level 🥹 and his cover was so good oh lord

monster - lady gaga

"he ate my heart" he ate not only my heart but also every stage he's been on 😋 but he really is like a monster the way he keeps coming for my heart and bias line

ᯓ★ taesan

blue monday' 88 - new order

especially this version of this song is so taesan! like the little guitar funk added to it 😩 god i love this song

alien blues - vundabar

I can see taesan making a song like this one! not only the beat but also the lyrics are so his style

t r a n s p a r e n t s o u l - willow, travis baker

taesan where's the cover??? like pls i would love to hear him cover this song 😭

ᯓ★ leehan

turn it up - pinkpantheress

"hey it's me, we've been talking twice a week" like the song gives me big leehan vibes 😭

art - tyla

hes the art here let's be honest.....and i totally see him being a muse to others not only in the art of painting 😌

fabulous - nimstarr

this whole song screams leehan to me!!!! like the lyrics, the beat, and nimstarr's voice is so leehan like wtf

ᯓ★ woonhak

go (xtayalive 2) - kanii

GO! JUST GO!!! it's so unagi! even though he hates acting cute to me it comes naturally for him 🥹

yale - ken carson

i feel like this song is kinda his style...like he definitely would listen to it and vibe 😌

nightclawler - travis scott, swae lee, chief keef

"young, free and wildin'" YUPPPP!!!! this song just comes to mind with woonhak and no one else for me!!!

boynextdoor masterlist

#em's✉️#boynextdoor fluff #boynextdoor x reader #boynextdoor imagines #boynextdoor headcanons #boynextdoor as songs #boynextdoor sungho #boynextdoor riwoo #boynextdoor jaehyun #boynextdoor taesan #boynextdoor leehan #boynextdoor woonhak #boynextdoor au #boynextdoor scenarios #bnd scenarios #bnd x reader #bnd fluff #bnd imagines

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boldlyanxious · 10 days ago

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A Simple Deception

masterlist

“I’m really sorry for you Jon. I know you have gotten close over the last few months,” Damian spoke into his phone.

“No, I really mean it,” he continued after a pause. “I know I’m not the most expressive person to talk to but it is clear that she means a lot to you. I wish her visa had worked out.”

Damian made a few more non-committal noises as his friend went on and on about his newer friend who would be moving away soon.

“I wish I had gotten a chance to meet her. Maybe sometime later in the future. I’ll take you to Paris for your birthday or something.”

“See you for New Year’s then. Merry Christmas to you and the rest of the Kents. I believe my gift should have arrived.”

He put his phone back on the desk and went looking for his family. Unlike Jon’s family, Christmas morning did not start promptly at 8am. With their evening activities, they all preferred to start a little later. Coffee and brunch would start at 10 am and the scavenger hunt for gifts would begin promptly at 11. The first one back after completing all the challenges would win Christmas.

It wasn’t the most traditional of Christmases, but it worked for them. And Damian was determined to win this year.

---

“Hold on, I’m putting you on speaker phone. I still have to be out of this apartment,” Marinette said. She moved her phone from her ear and put it on the mantle before shoving a pile of boxes.

She zipped back and forth as she continued talking at her phone.

“I just got the call that it was approved. Apparently, it went through last week but because of a mix up with the paperwork I didn’t get the call until they were closing today.”

“I can’t believe you still have to move,” the voice said from the phone.

“The cut off to stay here was a couple weeks ago.” Marinette stopped and looked at her phone with an uncertain look that even though the person on the other end couldn’t see her, would be able to hear the uncertainty in her voice. “But I had a friend tell me that if everything else failed, he would have a place for me in his apartment. He said it would just be a relief to have me in the same country.”

“I heard the same thing,” the voice laughed. “I have the space, and I already messaged a friend to borrow a truck to help.”

“You are a lifesaver; you know that?”

“I do, but I like to hear you say it.”

“Not to just call for huge favors, but I have to let you go now. I still have a ton of things to do. I haven’t even called my parents yet.”

“You told me before your parents? That’s cold.”

“Well, I sent a message saying I had an update so if they have been on, they can guess. But proper calls are hard while the bakery is open. They will call while they are closing, once they get the loud ovens off.”

“Best of luck. I know they were excited to have you back even though they wanted things to work out for you.”

“They were. But I did visit during the process, and they should be able to make another trip one day soon.”

—

The triumph of Christmas had not even lasted the week until New Year’s. His father had them gathered together to talk about their behavior for the New Year’s gala. It appeared to be a fabulous fancy dinner with all the Waynes and associated persons present, but his father was droning on about the behaviors that had been noticed at the last party. It had been a season full of parties where they were all expected to be dressed impeccably and a minimum not be caught causing disturbances and definitely not be written about in the press. Something that had been sorely lacking from the last Wayne hosted event.

Dick had been considered to be too drunk although it was more likely he just had had enough of the perfumed, elderly ladies pinching the wrong cheeks to tell him how handsome he looked all grown up. Stephanie, while not technically family, was not inconspicuous enough when doing impressions of Lex Luthor. Damian believes that she actually wanted Luther to see her. Tim and Jason both had a game of being confused any time someone spoke to them rather than greeting them as if they knew them. They had offended several long-time business associates and acquaintances of the Wayne Family.

Damian still believed that he had done nothing wrong. He was the picture of politeness and had greeted every person of note and some others. He remembered all the names, the grandkids and pets to ask about. He had not talked business once and he retrieved drinks when people were low. Apparently, his grave error was in not asking a single young lady to dance during the evening. He had the required skills, and he was not in any way unable to perform the motions at the time so he should have. It didn’t matter that he simply did not wish to dance with them.

“It is expected of you Damian,” his father said.

“There were plenty of other people dancing, including Dick and Tim. I think even Jason danced,” Damian complained.

“That makes it even more noticeable that you were not dancing. All of your brothers danced, and I danced. You should dance too.”

“I was busy making the rounds to all of the people who needed greeted.”

“I expect better time management next time then. I also made greetings for everyone and found the time. You will find the time for at least three to five dances–”

“That’s too many,” Damian cut in.

“Three to five dances and you will choose one of the suitable young ladies to kiss at midnight.”

“Absolutely not. I don’t want to kiss any of them.”

“You will and that is final.”

“But” Damian’s mind raced before he blurted out “I have a girlfriend.”

The stunned eyes of the entire table and the waiter turned to him.

“You have a girlfriend Dami?” Dick squealed.

“Of course he doesn’t,” Jason laughed. “He is just trying to get out of kissing some social climber at the gala.”

“Well,” Bruce said, “you certainly can’t kiss someone else if you have a girlfriend. You will bring her and kiss her at midnight. What is her name for the invitation?”

“Her name is Marinette Dupain-Cheng.” Damian said, “But she will be out of the country by then.”

—

“You got settled, I see,” Jon said laughing at Marinette in the kitchen.

“You have been to my place many times. You knew what you were getting yourself into.”

“That I did. And I’m delighted to have you, but I’m going to help you clean up. Damian is coming over and I didn’t mention you were living here yet. I don’t want to overwhelm him. He wanted to talk about something, and it sounded serious,” Jon said.

“Oh, I’m so sorry. I’ll clean really fast and get out of your hair,” Marinette said.

“Nonsense. I meant it when I said it was your place too. You haven’t met Damian yet, and you should. You will love him,” Jon paused, choosing his words carefully. “I just don’t want it to feel too chaotic when it sounds like he is already having a tough time.”

“Right. You get the dishwasher going while I get the counters cleared. Then, I’ll wash the remainder and leave the floors to you.”

“Perfect. That should get you a chance to get out of your mismatched jammies.”

“Do not impugn my mismatched jammies. They are very comfy, but possibly too chaotic for meeting new friends.”

“Right you are.”

—

“You really don’t have to come up with me. I’m just getting the keys to the truck I let Jon borrow,” Damian said, climbing the stairs to Jon’s apartment.

“You have a girlfriend who is about to leave the country. I want to meet her while I have the chance. I’m sure you will want to stay and see her for a bit anyway. I remember what it was like to be young and in love,” Bruce responded.

“If it is anything like you are now with Ms Kyle, do not ever think I will behave like that.”

“To be in love is to be part fool and let yourself be open to another person. Perhaps you and Marinette just need more time.”

“You are already aware that the time is limited, yet you insist on encroaching upon it.”

Damian let out a long-suffering sigh before he knocked firmly on the door.

“Damian, you made it,” Jon said, quickly turning his attempted hug into a handshake. “Uh, Mr Wayne, how nice to see you again. I didn’t realize you were coming.”

“I’ve told you so many times to call me Bruce,” Bruce said with a warm smile.

“Right, I’ll get the keys. Thank you so much for letting me borrow your truck. My grandparents were supposed to help but they got held up in Kansas,” Jon said, shifting on his feet.

Bruce pushed past the keys Jon held out and looked around the apartment. “Tell your grandparents I said ��hello’. I do hope to see them when they make it to town.”

Damian took the keys and grabbed his father’s arm, “We should go. Jon is clearly busy.”

Bruce looked around and raised an eyebrow at Damian. Jon said nothing until Bruce stepped into the kitchen and looked down at a tray of goodies.

“Can I offer you something to eat? Marinette was baking earlier. I’m sure she is willing to share,” Jon was relieved to have something to do with his hands. “Oh, Marinette is a friend of mine. She is from France and staying here.”

“Damian mentioned that. I was hoping to meet her,” Bruce’s eyes lit up at the mention of his reason for coming. “It’s a shame about her visa expiring though.”

“Actually, it was approved,” a dark-haired woman said as she walked into the room. “I found out too late to keep my apartment. That is why Jon let me move in.”

“That’s wonderful!” Bruce exclaimed, reaching for her hand. “I’m Bruce Wayne, Damian’s father. You must be–”

Damian cut it, hoping to stop his father from saying something he didn’t want anyone to hear. “Father, might I present Marinette Dupain-Cheng.”

“You may. Damian was so disappointed his girlfriend had to go back to France. Congratulations on your visa approval. You must come to my New Year’s Eve gala. It wouldn’t be the same without you.”

“So nice to meet you, Mr Wayne.”

Marinette was shaking his hand but then he suddenly pulled her into a hug. Her eyes were huge and confused looking over his shoulder at Jon and Damian. Damian was trying not to make eye contact, but Jon was looking at him and laughing.

“You must call me Bruce,” he said, patting her back.

“Bruce,” she repeated.

—

“I’ll take the truck back. Don’t be back too late,” Bruce paused with a smirk, “or do. I guess you will be celebrating.”

“I will see you at the usual time,” Damian said stiffly.

He turned back slowly to face Jon, who was clearly trying not to laugh and Marinette. He had just met her, but he had the distinct impression that was not her happy face.

“What just happened?” Marinette asked, hand on her hip.

“My father invited you to the annual Wayne New Year’s Eve Gala,” Damian said.

“As your girlfriend? That is the part someone would typically ask first.”

“Why did no one tell me the visa was approved? You were supposed to be going back to France.”

Damian looked accusingly at Jon who shrugged.

“I didn't think you would go get engaged because I was waiting to tell you until I saw you. I honestly thought you were bored of me talking about it.”

“I was bored, but it was too convenient to tell my father I couldn’t hook up with whichever socialite is most convenient for his business.”

“We are not engaged or hooking up.” Marinette said emphatically. “We aren’t even dating, and you will make this right. I did not sign up for a randomly assigned billionaire boyfriend.”

“Trust me, I have no interest in dating you,” Damian said firmly. He paused before adding, “But since you already told my father you would attend the gala, would you be willing to go as a favor to me.”

“I do not owe you any favors,” Marinette said.

“Please,” Damian said. “I would owe you one. Jon will be there too.”

“I go every year. It is the best one of the year. Also, least likely to be attacked by rogues and I know you have a dress you designed that you would love to show off.”

“I don’t want to go around lying to people. It isn’t fun for me, and I’m not interested in profiting off deception.”

Damian held up his hand to get them all to stop.

“Jon, would you leave us for a moment.”

Jon looked like he wanted to argue but Damian waited until he relaxed and then walked out of the room. Damian gestured at the chairs in the living room.

“Please allow me to talk for a moment. Once I have explained myself, I will ask you to go with me and then accept whatever response you give.”

Marinette studied him for a moment and then nodded.

“First of all, allow me to congratulate you on your visa. I know from Jon that it was very nerve wracking to not know where you would be by the end of the week. Even though I blamed you for not leaving, I am happy for you.” Damian took a breath and continued. “I am not typically a rash or unfeeling person. I may show a lack of concern for things that don’t affect me, but I don’t like to be cruel or use others carelessly. That being said, when my father told me that he wanted me to essentially woo the young ladies at the gala, I provided the easiest excuse that would be accepted at the time without planning to produce an actual girlfriend. Jon has spoken of you many times so your name came easily to me as someone who my family would not know, and you were so conveniently not going to be in town at the time of the gala that I would be off the hook from my father’s expectations.”

Damian stood up and circled the room a couple times before turning back to her.

“My father’s expectations make me uncomfortable, but his reasoning is sound. I made choices in my behavior at the last event we hosted that did not meet what was expected of me. Now, I am expected to show attention to the ladies in attendance by dancing and being a proper gentleman in polite society. If you refuse to go with me, I will tell my father when I see him about my deception. I will then behave as I must at the event. If you agree to attend with me, you will benefit from being seen and talking about your design work. That is not disingenuous of you. It is how high society works. Everyone there is trying to advance themselves while also showing off for each other. That would be a good thing for you, and I would also owe you a favor. I could do as much as buying you a fabric store easily, if that is what you wished. After the evening is over, I will come clean to my father, and we will not be romantically linked. You will have just been my date for the evening.”

“Wow. I didn’t expect all that.”

It was Marinette’s turn to stand up and pace around the space. Her hands were tightly clasped in each other, the skin turning white where she squeezed.

“I–” She took a deep breath. “I accept. You really don’t need to owe me anything. I understand why you did what you did. It was a series of unexpected events that collided. Besides, I want to be friends. I’m sure we will see each other from time to time.”

—

It wasn’t nearly as bad as she expected.

It nearly felt like she was in a period piece. Everyone was all dressed up and speaking formally. It was definitely the best collective posture she had seen anywhere during her time in the states and possibly ever. Damian escorted her around on his arm and smiled at all the people he greeted by name and introduced her as his date.

His family was different. They all seemed like they were laughing at some joke, but it didn’t seem like it was at her. They did all seem interested in why she started dating Damian. She supposed that was just how siblings were. She ended up dancing with all of his siblings, Jon and then his father. As well as several dances with Damian and a couple of the other men in attendance.

It was nothing like the fake dates seen in pop culture. Everyone just accepted her as Damian’s date, and she didn’t have to justify it. She made the appropriate responses to her current dance partner. Archibald was handsome and a great dancer; she made sure not to tell him that she didn’t realize real people still had that name. He had been very polite.

Damian was approaching her, but he did not look happy. She glanced around to see if anyone was watching her. She didn’t think she had made any faux pas that would reflect poorly on him, and no one had even suggested that she was only here as a ruse. She had no clue why he suddenly looked so serious.

The crowd was getting louder. Everyone was leaving the dance floor and waiters were efficiently passing out champagne. The glasses were clinking together and people chattering noisily and pairing off.

Damian took her by the arm and pulled her along with him. She stumbled slightly but his arm was there to hold her upright. He took two flutes of champagne and held them in one hand as he took hers in the other and pulled her along to a balcony. All the other guests were moving down outside and once they got out there, she could see a couple other balconies with guests on them. But they were the only ones on this balcony.

“There is a slight possibility that we will be expected to kiss at midnight,” Damian said.

Marinette was so stunned she didn’t register the voices of the crowd start counting down from ten.

“By slight possibility I mean my father just told me that he still expects to see me celebrating at midnight and it should be easy since you are my girlfriend.”

Damian pushed her hair back from her face and cupped her cheek.

“I really hoped he just wouldn’t notice.”

He tilted her face up and looked into her eyes. He didn’t move forward, but his eyes held the question in them.

Marinette pushed forward until she was kissing him.

It was just supposed to be a quick kiss, but she gasped at the spark she felt kissing him. She didn’t pull back, instead her arm went around his neck as she felt his fingers dig into her hair. He pressed closer and held on to her. The fireworks were going off all around, but they didn’t notice anything but each other. They pulled away slowly, breathing a bit more quickly.

Neither seemed to know what to say for a moment.

Marinette picked up a glass of champagne and clinked it against Damian’s glass before taking a sip.

“Happy New Year,” she whispered, before leaning in to kiss him again.

#daminette #fake dating #maribat #new years eve #boldlyanxious #now kiss

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beansprean · 2 years ago

Text

Waiting on Mr. Right

My Exchangeapalooza gift for @jay-auris !! See it HERE on A03 and check out all the other fabulous entries HERE!

(ID in alt and under cut)

ID page 1: 1. Interior of a bar, romantically lit, and covered in heart balloons, heart and cupid decorations, heart shaped light strings, and various small round tables with two chairs each. The tables are occupied with male/female couples in mid conversation. A waitress dressed in black jeans, black button up, and a white apron around her waist walks through with a tray. In the foreground is the corner of the bar counter, which has a small sign advertising 'Valentine's Day Speed Dating' On February 13 between 7pm and 10pm. A little cupid cartoon is pictured on the sign saying 'Every time a bell rings, ladies move on to your next date!' At the bottom, it says 'Find your Valentine! (before it's too late)'. 2a. Close up of Nandor on a salmon background lighter at the top and darker at the bottom, dressed up in his finest red and gold fur trimmed coat, sitting at one of the small tables, hands folded in front of him. He stares expectantly forward and says, 'I am glad to hear your parents are dead; I never liked any of my previous 37 wives' parents. 2b. Reverse shot of a middle aged black woman in a red turtleneck sitting across from him, arms crossed with an uncomfortable expression as she stares back at him with no response. 2c. A brown hand in a dark beige suit sleeve rings a small golden bell. 3a. Close up of Nandor, leaning over the table with his fingers pressed together, presenting his date with a lascivious smile. He says, 'How many times a day do you expect cunnilingus?' 3b. Reverse shot of a white middle aged redhead across from him, dressed in a mauve v neck sweater and nervously avoiding eye contact while gulping a glass of white wine. 3c. A brown hand in a dark beige suit sleeve rings a small golden bell. 4a. Close up of Nandor, smiling sweetly with his hands folded in his lap as he says 'Without a word spoken between us, I find myself falling deeply in love. Do you feel this also?' 4b. Reverse shot of a middle aged southeastern Asian woman with a bob and large glasses. She still has her coat in her arms and hasn't even slipped her bag off her shoulder, and there is an untouched menu in front of her. With an expression of vague disgust, she replies'...No.' 4c. Reverse shot as the woman gets up to leave, Nandor planting his fists on the table and calling out 'Hey, the bell has not rung yet!' 5. Close up of Nandor as he crosses his arms and clicks his tongue, mumbling angrily to himself 'Clearly she has no idea how dating works.' A waiter reaches into frame to grab the abandoned menu and snorts in response. 6. Zoom out as Nandor jerks his head around to whine, affronted, at the waiter, 'Ayy, what, waiter-man? Where is the joke?' The waiter, who appears to be Guillermo wearing a black button down, black pants and a white apron around his waist, holds the menu up with both hands to shield his face, replying 'Sorry, sorry! Nothing!' /end page 1

ID page 2: 1. As Guillermo hides behind the menu, Nandor holds his hand up in a useless hypnosis gesture and barks 'I am Nandor the Relentless and I command you to tell me!' 2. Close up of Guillermo as he peeks cautiously over the top of the menu. Offscreen, Nandor continues, 'You are seeing so many people here have success...' 3. Close up of Nandor looking pleadingly upward as he says 'What am I doing wrong?' 4. Guillermo fully lowers the menu with a cautious smile, replying 'I mean...I guess you come on a little strong?' 5. Wide shot of them both. Nandor makes an affronted expression and curls one arm up to show off his bicep, gesturing to it with his other hand. He says, 'I am strong! I am very strong! Do modern women no longer admire strength?' Guillermo, holding the menu under one arm, holds up both hands in a soothing gesture and responds frantically 'Nonono, for sure! I just meant that you're acting really intense right off the bat!' 6. Close up on Nandor with a thoughtful hand on his chin as Guillermo continues offscreen: 'Talking love and marriage...it's too soon for a first date.' Nandor: 'Ahh... This is more third date talk?' There is a small reaction shot of Guillermo looking exasperated but resigned as he reluctantly agrees: '...Sure.' 7. Close up on Guillermo as Nandor asks offscreen: 'So what is first date talk?' Guillermo replies, counting off on his fingers, 'Well, it depends on the person, but generally... Get-to-know-you questions? Like where did you grow up, how many siblings do you have, that kind of stuff.' 8. Close up on Nandor as he turns his face away to glare into the middle distance, a sudden shadow melting half his face into darkness as he says 'I grew up in the faraway kingdom of Al Qolnidar, which no longer exists, and I had seven siblings, all of whom are now dead.' There is a small reaction shot of Guillermo looking shocked and cornered, unsure how to respond to all that. 9. Wide shot from Nandor's other side as he raises his eyebrows guilelessly and gestures to Guillermo with a hand, prompting, 'And then you answer?' Guillermo jolts in place, surprised to be placed in the date's role, and replies 'Oh, yeah, uh. Your date would answer, too. Um. I grew up here in the Bronx and I'm an only child.' 10. Repeat. Nandor and Guillermo both stare expectantly at the other. 11. Repeat. Nandor drops his gaze with a frown, eyes hooding, and grunts 'Hm. This is very boring, waiter-man.' Guillermo, flustered and irritated, throws his arms out in a helpless gesture and snaps 'Well, you have to actually engage in the conversation! Ask follow-up questions! And it's Guillermo!' Nandor says, uninterested, 'What is.' /end page 2

ID page 3: 1a. Close up on Guillermo on a bubbly pink background as he points a finger sternly and states 'My name! It's Guillermo.' 1b. Reverse shot of Nandor looking up at him, almost dazed, cheeks flushed a bit purple as he echoes 'Guillermo...' 1c. Reverse shot of Guillermo as he withdraws his hand to curl it protectively against his chest. He looks a bit taken aback by the reaction, cheeks gone a ruddy pink. 2. Wide shot of them both on a red-violet background crisscrossed with multicolored lights. Guillermo looks away from Nandor nervously, blushing and sweaty, patting his free hand anxiously on the menu held under his arm. He stutters out, 'I, uh. Anyway, I gotta-' Nandor, leaning his head on his hand and gazing at Guillermo with a besotted expression, interrupts, saying 'You are very wise in the ways of dating, Guillermo.' He puts extra emphasis on the name. 3. Close up on Guillermo as Nandor continues: 'You have been on many dates?' Guillermo fidgets, still looking away, and mumbles back 'Not, not like a lot, no. Not like a large amount. Like a normal amount, probably.' 4. Wide shot as Nandor lifts his head and leans closer with a small smile, asking 'And how do your suitors woo you? If they are asking you on a second date?' Guillermo is startled into making eye contact and goes red, clutching the menu to his chest with both hands as he sweats nervously. 5. Repeat. Nandor leans even closer, smile widening into something more flirtatious as Guillermo stiffens and looks away again, somehow getting even redder as his shaky mouth pulls into an uncertain grin. Guillermo stutters out, 'I mean...assuming the first date went well...um...' 6. Close up on Guillermo, smiling nervously even as he avoids eye contact. He says, 'I guess he might...get me flowers?' 7. Close up on Nandor on a bubbly peach background from Guillermo's POV, looking up patiently as he listens. Guillermo continues offscreen: 'He'd...tell me how much he enjoys my company, or...pay me a genuine compliment.' 8. Close up on Guillermo on a bubbly peach background from Nandor's POV, his smile softened and eyes far away as he continues: 'And...whisk me off somewhere fun. Somewhere new. Somewhere we could...stumble in to an adventure together. Away from everything else. And we'd stay up all night because we just...didn't want it to end.' /end page 3

ID page 4: 1. Close up on Guillermo's hand, crossed over his opposite arm, as Nandor nudges his fingers underneath to free his grip. Nandor starts softly, 'And...' 2. Wide shot on a bubbly pink background. Nandor has taken Guillermo's hand and is holding it like a knight would a lady, gazing down at it softly as if readying to kiss it. He continues, '...how many of your suitors have done this for you?' Guillermo, dazed, gazes down at their hands and replies '...I... I don't think anyone would...' 3. The plain green background wall slams back into view as a bell rings offscreen. Wide-eyed and red-faced, Guillermo snatches his hand away from Nandor and flings it upward as if tossing the moment over his shoulder. Nandor is left frozen, hand in the air, eyes wide in shock. 4. Repeat. Guillermo begins to back away from the table, tossed arm coming around to rub at the back of his neck. He looks up and away, sweating , red, and awkward as he chokes out a loud forced laugh and says 'Well, that definitely counts as coming on too strong. Terrible advice, don't do that.' Nandor leans after him, hand hovering in midair, squeaking out 'A-' 5. Repeat. Without letting Nandor finish, Guillermo disappears out of frame with a hasty 'Ok bye good luck!', leaving Nandor saying nothing but question marks, hand still frozen in the air as if reaching out after him. In the foreground, a woman with long brown hair and a dark pink sweater steps into view to take the seat in front of Nandor. 6. Slight zoom, the background returning to the light and dark salmon as Nandor settles back into his seat. The woman across from him, out of focus in shadow, says 'Hi, I'm Kjersten! Um...that's a really interesting outfit...' Nandor doesn't appear to be listening and is staring after Guillermo thoughtfully, a Mona Lisa curl to his lips. /end page 4

ID page 5: 1. Low angle of an alleyway, fenced at the rear and surrounded by tall buildings in multiple vague colors with some spray painted areas. Snow is piled up on either side of the center path against the sidewalk. In the foreground, there is a dumpster. A pink text box at the top reads February 14, 12:07 am. Halfway down the alley, a door opens and Guillermo steps halfway out, missing his apron but having added a coat, carrying a full garbage bag. A voice from inside calls, 'Guillermo, you can head out when you're done, okay?' Guillermo's breath steams into the air as he turns back to the door to respond: 'You sure? The dishes are-' The voice interrupts him with 'Sí, es El Día Dr Amor y Amistad! (In English: Yes, it's Valentines Day) Go sow your oats! You're too young to be working so much.' Guillermo replies without enthusiasm, 'Ha...yeah. Thanks, Teresa, have a good night.' 2. View from behind as Guillermo pulls the lid of the dumpster up with one hand and throws the bag in with the other. He sighs and mutters to himself, 'My oats are just gonna go home and watch Buffy...' 3. There is a clatter in the alley behind him and Guillermo spins around to face the viewer, startled and tense. 4. Extreme close up on Guillermo jerking back in shock as a wad of dandelions are suddenly thrust into his face. A voice offscreen calls 'Guillermo!' happily. 4. Zoom out as Nandor, now with a black and gold cloak dusted with snow over his finery, kneels down in front of Guillermo, arm outstretched to keep the dandelions pushing at his chin. Guillermo, pink and flustered and very confused, takes a step back and splutters 'Nandor?! The- the relentless?' Nandor ignores his reaction and announces, 'Here are some flowers!' 5a. Close up on Nandor as he looks up at Guillermo, dandelions thrust into the foreground and his hair and shoulders dotted with snow as if he had been waiting for some time. He proceeds, clearly rehearsed, 'I very much enjoyed your company tonight as well as the sight of your charming boyish face and plump behind!' His voice is demanding but his expression, eyes shining upwards and cheeks flushed purple, betrays his nerves despite the confident set to his brow. 5b. Reverse shot of Guillermo, staring down at him slack-jawed with wide shiny eyes and pink cheeks, the dandelions still hovering up by his face. Offscreen, Nandor asks 'Have you ever been to Staten Island?' Guillermo responds 'No...' on autopilot. Nandor concludes, 'Then that is where I will be whisking you for our date!' 6. Full body shot, the alleyway back in focus and showing an empty snow-lined street on the other side, a single window just above Guillermo's head lit up from within. Nandor finally stands up and rubs at his chin with a worried expression, dandelions clutched in the other. He says, 'I've heard tales of an all-night bowling alley, but my housemates never want to go with me.' Meanwhile Guillermo, frozen beside him with his hands hovering in mid-air, lets his brain catch up with what's happening. He stares into the middle distance as equations float around his head and his breath fogs into the air. Above, it begins to gently snow. 7. Close up of Guillermo, knocked out of his trace by a gentle prompting from Nandor offscreen: 'So...?' An EKG line skips a beat in the background as he startles and looks up, eyes shining and lips pressed together in a frown. 8. Reverse shot of Nandor, looking very nervous now as he stares back hopefully, holding out the bouquet of dirty dandelions one more time. /end page 5

ID page 6: 1. Close up of Guillermo on a bubbly pink background. He smiles genuinely, red-cheeked, and reaches out to take the dandelions from Nandor's hand. He says, 'Okay...' 2. Medium shot of the two in profile. Nandor, still holding the flowers as Guillermo tucks his hand inside his grip to take them, looks down at Guillermo in shock and echoes 'Okay?!' Guillermo looks up at him with a shy smile and clarifies, 'Yeah. Yes.' 3. Nandor drops his hand and straightens up, a giant silly ecstatic grin taking over his face. Guillermo turns back toward the building and points behind him with his free hand, the other now clutching the dandelions. He says, 'Just let me clock out an-' 4. A close up of Guillermo, blurred diagonally with sudden motion. The only thing clearly visible are his wife eyes, frozen grin, and a little white question mark. 5. Knees up of Nandor, now holding a startled Guillermo in a bridal carry, on a red background lined with glowing neon pink hearts. Grinning wildly down at his date, Nandor announces, 'Prepare to be whisked, Guillermo!!' Guillermo sits there wide-eyed, clutching his little wad of flowers to his chest and somehow finding his other arm looped around Nandor's neck. He stutters frantically, 'Wai- wait, Nandor, you don't have to-' 6. The background warps upward as Nandor shoots them both upward into the sky, flying them both right out of the panel. Guillermo's last word is stretched out in a startled 'OOOOOO??!' as they take off, a single dandelion escaping his grip and drifting back toward the ground. 7. Wide shot of the night sky, dark purple with bursts of white clouds and speedily increasing snowfall, lit by a clear full moon. Nandor and Guillermo fly through, Nandor smiling in a pleased way and clutching Guillermo tightly as he watches their ascent. Guillermo, both arms now around Nandor's neck and more flowers slipping from his grip into the night, stares up at him with awe. He thinks to himself, 'This is the best night of my life...' Behind them, the words 'the end' are carved into the moon. /End ID

#wwdits #nandermo #mlm #valentines day #exchangeapalooza 2 #guillermo de la cruz #nandor the relentless #what we do in the shadows #what we do in the shadows fx #my art #fanart #image described #waiting on mr right #there are worse things i could do #tawticd

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