#i love eve too i need to dig more into her character | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

cdragons · 1 year ago

Text

Fuck Everything, But Mostly Fuck You - Part 2

Previous Part, Next Part

Summary: You have never, EVER, in a million years hated anyone the way you hated Felix fucking Catton. But silver linings exist in the sticky toffee pudding Mrs. Gavey made for you.

Warnings- MDNI 18+, Sex, Felix is Felix (a ho), Reader finally eating some good fucking food, Michael is Michael, Farleigh is Farleigh, Oliver is Oliver (a creep), alternating POVs between characters, and author has spent too much time researching Oxford crap for this mess for a crack fic to be a crack fic

Author's Note: BRUH??? HOW DID I GET SO MANY NOTES IN PART 1??? Everyone has been so wonderful and supportive. I received so many questions and comments, which have all been great! Thank you for reading this story, and I hope that this part lives up the first one. Also, this is technically a Christmas fic bc it just fits with the story's timeline. I would like to thank Grammarly for catching all my grammatical errors 🥲, @ethereal-athalia for enabling my crazy ideas 🥰, and @valeskafics for providing me Saltburn smut when I catch myself thirsting 😇

Christmas Eve - Saltburn 2006

“Oh! Oh – y-yes, yes, yes! FUCK!”

Fucking the girl underneath so hard to the point where she likely saw stars. Meanwhile, Felix was trying to finish as soon as possible.

“So big! God, you’re so fucking big – FUCK!”

He brought her to his room and in his bed because he thought her hair just barely matched yours, and if he didn’t think too much about it – her voice sounded a bit like yours too.

But he made a mistake.

The girl – whatever her name was – sounded nothing like you. Her hair was nowhere near as pretty and shiny as yours, and her nails were fucking long and sharp that they were digging for his blood. Her makeup too – fucking hell, it was like she trying out for the opera with how much she caked onto herself.

Every time Felix saw you – whether in the library or under a tree – your nails were trimmed short. And from what he remembered, you didn’t plaster yourself in cheap cosmetics.

No, you never needed to. Your style of choice was simpler and more elegant than most girls he knew, including his sister, Venetia. Granted, he loved his sister to bits and pieces, but the girl loved her spray tan in the winter.

But worst of all – she didn’t have your eyes. Her gaze was too mindless and soft, a mix of adoration and unparalleled lust. Your eyes held vivacious rage and

“Felix?” What’s-Her-Face asked. “You okay?”

Fuck, he was getting soft.

Closing his eyes, Felix knew the only way he would get to finish was to think of you. He thought about the last time he saw you. He remembered how hard the wind blew and how cold it was that night. He felt himself harden at the memory of how alive your eyes were right before and after you broke his nose. His back still had the welts from the blows of your notebook. Every time he saw them in the mirror, he would lovingly stroke each bruise because they were the only evidence that you were real.

That you weren’t just a figment of his imagination.

Letting his mind run wild, Felix imagined you here instead of this imposter. He’d imagine you on top – no way a woman like you would let anyone be on top, not even him. Fuck, you’d be the most wild thing ever to exist, he’s sure he’d let you do anything to him.

His heart, his soul – whether you cared for him or wished to crush him under your shoe – everything of his would be yours.

He wondered if you were the type to be into using a riding crop.

Regaining his vigor with his eyes still closed, he imagined you riding him until oblivion. Your breasts would fit perfectly in his hands as you would still be bouncing on his cock. Your head would be thrown back, and his eyes would roll to the back of his head at the feeling of your pussy tightening.

Oh God, he was going to blow.

Quickening his pace, the girl that wasn’t you was full-on howling in unbridled pleasure. When she climaxed, he could finally let go and come. Ropes of his cum spilled into the condom as he shouted out your name.

Falling to his side, he hadn’t bothered to check if Lady Not You remained in the sheets. It didn’t matter if she did; Felix was too exhausted to care. Finally feeling like he could rest, he fell into a dream about the day he felt his life truly begin – the day he met you.

First Week of Oxford University Michaelmas Term of 2006

Felix remembered the first time he saw you – it was after the first week since the term began. He and his mates were fucking around in Radcliffe, and the old bag running the desk was having a cow with them. He was bored out of his mind when all of a sudden – he spotted you on the upper level. You wore dark wash blue straight-leg jeans with rolled-up cuffs and white high-top Converse sneakers. It looked like your shirt must have been at least a decade old, given how the black-dyed cotton was faded to dark gray, and the paint looked cracked and chipped. Your thick locks were gathered in a loose but simple braid. Unlike everyone else, your eyes weren’t focused on him – but on the structure and life around him.

He had to know more.

Slipping a tenner to one of his friends to cause a distraction, he used the diversion to make his way to your spot on the second floor. Having a closer view, you were the most vividly gorgeous creature he had ever laid his eyes upon. He was worried that his movement toward you would alert you of his presence, and you would only scurry off – and away from him. But judging by the slight bobbing of your head, you wouldn’t be able to hear him since you were listening to whatever was playing through your earbuds.

All the better for him to keep observing you.

As he inched closer, his eyes caught the tiny wisps of your hair that weren’t contained by your messy braid, creating a lovely frame of your face while also bringing out the shine in your eyes. You had a simple gold chain around your neck with a circular locket hanging. From the side, Felix could faintly distinguish the words “Bon Jovi” in blue cracked paint and “1989” underneath a skull wearing red aviators.

He didn’t know who the fuck Bon Jovi was, but clearly, he was someone pretty fucking important to you.

But what captured Felix’s interest was how engrossed you were with the scene unfolding underneath you. Your eyes very rarely broke away from the view – only to quickly glance at the hardcover sketchbook you balanced on the white-painted railing. Whenever you glanced down at your sketch, Felix could see how long and thick your eyelashes were. Each time you blinked, it was like his mind broke down the movement of your eyelids frame by frame as if he were editing a Garry Marshall film. He wished he could be your cheek at that moment. If only to feel the gentle flutter of your lashes’ touch. Deep in your concentration, your lips were slightly pursed in a way that brought out their luscious fullness.

He couldn’t help but imagine how they would look around his cock. If he came inside your mouth, he was sure that some of his spunk would leak past your lips before you tried your best to swallow it down.

He was so lost in the fantasy of you and him that he hadn’t realized you had been calling out to him. Breaking out of his reverie, he looked down to see you right before him. And you looked downright pissed at him.

“Hey! HEY!” you exclaimed while waving your hand to his face to catch his attention.

You were American. How adorable.

“If you could stop staring at me like a fucking serial killer, I think your ‘mates’ are trying to get your attention.”

You pointed your finger at his group of friends still on the first floor. It seemed that they successfully drove away the grounds' warden. The old bat was now fixated on putting away all the returned or misplaced books on the shelves.

Must have been Farleigh’s idea.

Anyway, back to you.

“Yeah, sorry about that. Hey, can I get your –” but you were gone by the time he turned back to you.

Instead, he found himself alone on the second floor. He quickly glanced around to see if you had just moved to a different area. But you were gone. Racing the stairwell, hoping to catch up to you, he found that you had already walked too far for him to call you out without seeming completely desperate.

Except that he was.

He watched you walk away – shoulders back, posture straight, and head held high – and thought at how utterly unfair it was to him that you walked away from him so beautifully without giving him your number, or at least your name.

Felix woke up in a dark room; he was confused as to why the maids hadn’t drawn curtains – until he realized that Mum had likely sent them for their holiday after the party was finished.

It's too bad that he wasn’t there to see everyone out like a good son. But he wouldn’t beat himself over about it too much – chances were that his parents were also hungover off their asses too. He didn’t even want to imagine V’s state right now.

Rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, Felix dug into his closet to find whatever someone wore the morning after fucking a completely faceless stranger to scratch an itch meant for someone else. In the corner of his eye, he caught sight of a little note on his nightstand. Swiftly plucking it with two fingers, he could barely make out the words written in swirly cursive.

My name’s Cassie. Just thought you should know for next time. Call me: XXXX-XXXXXXX 💋

Felix scoffed before tossing the dingy paper to the floor – destined to be forgotten before the next hour came – before locking himself in the bathroom to take a piss and wash off the smell of booze and cigs off his skin.

By the time he was finished, it was probably close to noon. He would have made his way down to the kitchens to fix something up – but he was immediately met with Farleigh as soon as he stepped out of the doorway. Bastard startled him up so bad that he practically jumped a foot off the ground.

“Fucking – really, Farleigh?” he asked. “Practically gave me a heart attack first thing in the morning.”

“It’s almost one so that ship has sailed.” He quipped back. “Aunt Elspeth and Uncle James were quite distraught when their golden son wasn’t seen by any of the guests when the party ended. It wasn't good when the Carltons’ daughter was gone for almost an hour. But at least she returned to her loving parents’ arms by the time it was to go home.”

Farleigh shot his cousin a curious look.

“You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you? I’m pretty sure her name was Cassandra.”

Felix just shrugged.

“Don’t know about any Cassandras. Fucked a Cassie last night, though.”

Farleigh snorted a laugh as they went to the kitchens to see if any food was prepared.

“Merry Christmas, indeed.”

A few minutes of companionable silence passed before Felix asked his cousin something important.

“Hey, do you think she’s thinking about me?”

“Cassie or Cassandra? Because the answer’s probably yes anyway.”

“No, not them. Y/N, Y/N L/N.”

Farleigh immediately stopped. He genuinely wondered how Felix managed to get into Oxford sometimes. Sure, he was a legacy kid, but the line had to be drawn somewhere.

“You really think,” he slowly began, “that the girl who dragged you out of the library in front of everyone, broke your nose, beat you bruised with only her flimsy-ass notebook – because you ruined her painting – would be thinking about you?”

Judging by the look in his cousin’s eyes, yes. Sighing at the incredulity of it all, Farleigh could only shake his head before finding something to eat and drink away the migraine he could feel was coming.

Watching his cousin walk away from him, Felix knew he thought he was fighting a losing battle. But he wasn’t too worried. Everything would change during the upcoming term. Oxford was its own world – broken away from everything else. All that mattered to anyone in Oxford was this world's history, present, and future. And now – as it was made clear now to Felix – you were also part of that world. He would get to find you again and make sure to bring you to the point where you would look for him the way he would look for you.

Still, a selfish part of Felix hoped that you were even just the slightest bit miserable being away from him as he was being away from you.

Manchester, December 2006

You were having the time of your life.

Michael invited you to his home in Manchester for Christmas to spend the holidays with his family. You refused, at first, the idea of being a burden to your best friend during a time when it should be spent with family. Michael liked to put up a big front, but you knew that he was just as – if not more – excited to spend Christmas with his folks than you were before the “incident.”

But he insisted, and you could not have been more grateful for the invitation. But you wish you were a tad bit more graceful with your reaction when he first brought it up.

Oxford Dining Hall December 2006

You were angrily shoveling pasta into your mouth at the time. Sadly, the appallingly bland marinara sauce paired with the overcooked spaghetti and dry meatballs was the university's most flavorful dish.

“Come home with me.” He told you one evening during dinner time at the dining hall.

Caught off guard, you half-choked on the mountain of overcooked noodles in your mouth. Immediately, you reached for your glass of water to wash it down and to prevent a truly horrifically dull death.

“What?” you croaked out.

“Come with me to my house for Christmas.” He clarified, utterly unfazed by your near death. “Come on, you’ve been complaining to me all week about not being able to fly back for the holidays. And no one should have to spend Christmas eating whatever slop they’ll end up serving.”

“Michael,” you began, “I am not going to impose on your family like that. And you seemed to have forgotten one key detail: I can’t leave until I re-do the painting.”

“So, come over after you finish,” he reasoned, “I know you remember what to do, and that already cuts the time you originally spent on it in half. You won’t need a whole month to do it again, so come over when you finish. Plus, you don’t have your other classes to worry about.”

You knew that he was right – he was right about a lot of things – but the offer still made you uncomfortable. Scholarship student or not, you were no one’s charity case. If there was one thing you hated more than being underestimated, it was being pitied by people who didn’t know you. That wasn’t the case with Michael, but the feeling made you feel small.

You hated feeling small.

“That doesn’t change the fact that I would be imposing on your family. Your mom’s a nurse, right? She’s probably been looking forward to your homecoming for ages now. Informing her that she should be expecting a complete stranger, who would be staying for two weeks, would be a huge burden on her. She shouldn’t have that kind of stress burdening her during the holidays.”

He rolled his eyes at your concern.

“Don’t be a drama queen. I already have one in my life, and I’m genetically attached to her. And you’re hardly a stranger. Mum’s always asking when you would be visiting anyway. She’s worried if you’re eating enough or getting enough sleep. She’s a bit looney like that.”

You shot your friend a glare. He was trying way too hard to keep a cool, nonchalant façade. Michael Gavey was a total sucker for his family but in the sweetest way. During the long study sessions that stretched into the night, Michael’s defenses were lowered, and you could get more information about his life and home.

His mom was a Manchester Royal Infirmary nurse practitioner, while his dad was an accountant at Pearl Lemon. They met at a coffee shop. He was working as a barista to pay off his student loans, and she was a nurse just starting her residency. He wowed her with his terrible jokes, and she charmed him with her infectious smile, and the rest was history. Three years into their marriage, baby Mikey was born, with the addition of his baby sister Lilypad a decade later.

When you remained silent, Michael knew your stubbornness would give him endless headaches. But you were his best friend, the only person he saw worth befriending in the infinite sea of prats and slags that overpopulated their university. You laughed at his shitty jokes, and he snorted at yours. You would try to trip him up with out-of-pocket sums; he’d laugh when he answered them before your calculator. You had his back when some rugby bloke pushed him around, and he had yours when some fake tanned bitch called you a tramp.

“Look, I can’t promise it’ll be anything like your home. I know you miss your mum’s cooking and your dad’s drunk stories. But my parents already made me promise that I would get you to visit because it’s Christmas and no one should be alone and you’re going to die without me here and blah blah blah. Just say you’ll come? Lil’ will murder me if you don’t come. She’s been dying to hear all about the Great Apple and Broadway.”

“…It’s actually called the Big Apple.”

Your comment brought a loud and rather unattractive snort to leave his mouth. And the chuckle that came after brought a small and tentative smile on you.

“Look, are you coming or not?”

You had to admit, the invitation sounded welcoming. You were dying to put faces on the people that made Michael Gavey, well, Michael Gavey. He rarely talked about his family, but his tone was warm and soft when he did. It was such a sweet contrast to the snarky little shit you were used to, and so temptation won in the end.

“…Fine.” You agreed after dragging out the tension. “But I am bringing presents for all your family members, and you have to help me. And any funds that were spent on me are going to be paid back before summer. Got it?”

A true, genuine smile crept across Michael’s face.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“…Will I be seeing any baby pictures of you?”

“Don’t push it.”

You weren’t sure what exactly to expect from Michael’s family – maybe they were wonderful, or maybe the idea of an American that hailed from a city with some of the highest crime rates in the US gave them hives – but you were sure that you wouldn’t be alone if Michael were with you. Safe to say, your expectations were set way too low.

His dad's arms immediately enveloped Michael after you two exited at your stop and the station. You had always assumed most British father figures to be a bit cold and distant, but it seemed that stereotype didn’t apply to his dad. You went in for a handshake but were also caught in a warm hug. You introduced yourself while expressing your gratitude to him and his wife’s generosity.

“Oh no, please,” he insisted, “please call me Greg. Mr. Gavey was my father’s name, and I don’t think I’ve grown that many wrinkles yet.”

When you arrived at his home, it was a medium-sized red brick building in the suburbs. After entering the door and Greg announcing your arrival, quick footsteps ran down the stairs, and a young girl with golden honey curls in pajamas and a pink tutu ran to Michael.

“MIKEY!” she exclaimed. “YOU’RE HOME! Did you miss me? Why did it take you so long? You said your tests were done by the third. It’s the fifteenth today!”

“Lily, Lily,” Michael breathily laughed, “calm down. Of course, I missed you. But I had to wait for my friend because she’s hopeless with directions.”

“That is not true!” you blurted. “It’s not my fault I come from a grid system!”

“Anyway, this is my very good friend, Y/N L/N. Y/N L/N, this is my little sister, Lily.”

Lily turned to you with a big smile and curtsied like a perfect ballerina.

“Hello! My name is Lily! I’m eight, but I’ll be nine in April!”

You almost squealed at how adorable the sight was. You crouched down and mirrored her smile.

“It’s so nice to meet you, Lily! I’m Y/N, and I’m turning nineteen this coming b/m! Your brother here told me so much about you.”

“He did?” she asked with wide eyes.

“He did! He told you how smart you are in math and that you’re an amazing ballerina.”

Lily shyly looked down as a massively cute blush bloomed on her cheeks.

“I wanna be good at sums like Mikey. That way, I can help Daddy with his work like Mikey did when he was my age.”

“Ok!” interjected ‘Mikey,’ cheeks equally flushed at the slipped detail from his baby sister. “Time to find Mum. She in the kitchen?”

“Yep! She’s making roast chicken and mash with peas!” She turned to you. “Is Y/N allergic to anything?”

“Nope!” you replied, “Only dust, but I’m pretty sure that won’t be in the dishes.”

Meeting Michael’s mom – who was absolutely gorgeous, by the way – was another huge highlight of the break so far. Hearing you three entering the kitchen, she immediately turned off the stove and dashed over to hug you and her son.

“Oh, Y/N!” she warmly greeted you. “I’m so happy that you were able to come. Michael has told me so much about you. Have you adjusted well in Oxford? The time difference isn’t putting too much strain on you, is it? You both look so skinny – are they feeding you at all at that school?”

“Careful, Mum. You might scare her off.”

You shot him a mocking glare before answering his mother.

“Don’t be mean! And I think I’ve adjusted well enough to the university. Jet lag wasn’t too much of an issue because my parents made sure I moved into my dorm early and adjusted to the time zone changes before classes started. The food they serve at the dining halls doesn’t compare to homecooked meals, so I haven’t had much of an appetite. But after walking into the kitchen, I think I’ll be able to regain it once I have your cooking!”

“Oh, you are so sweet! I’ll let you get settled. Greg and I cleaned up the guest room for you. It’s next to Lilypad’s room. She’s excited to hear any stories you have about New York. It’s just on the second floor at the end of the hall.”

Walking back to the entrance to grab your bags, you were just in earshot of Michael and his mom’s conversation.

“Michael! Why didn’t you tell me she was so beautiful! I thought she was a model from Vogue when she first walked in! Are you sure nothing’s going on between you two? Should I expect any grandchildren in the near future?”

“Mum!” he loudly groaned as you softly chortled.

Christmas with the Gaveys was so much fun. You played a dozen board games. Michael was a beast in Poker and Uno while you cleared the board with Scrabble and Black Jacks. Mrs. Gavey was a fantastic cook – you couldn’t remember the last time you had any meal that had more than salt as a seasoning since coming to England. You tried sticky toffee pudding for the first time – you almost cried at that first bite. Everyone was so warm to each other and showered one another with so much love. Most of the neighbors watched Michael grow up, and many shared his childhood stories. It reminded you a lot of the Christmases at your parents’ apartment back in Queens.

The community and camaraderie- it was like you were back at home with your family. Your mom would pick up a roast duck from Peking Duck Sandwich Stall in Flushing while you and your dad would go to Eileen’s to wait in line to pick up your favorite cheesecake. The building would have a huge potluck on Christmas Eve, and everyone would bring a dish. Your neighbor, Mrs. Wong, would bring out everything necessary to make her famous dumplings. Everything was made from scratch. You and the kids of the building would learn how to wrap the fillings in the wrappers while the adults made the wrappers and fillings. You would play White Elephant with the other kids on Christmas Day, which usually ended in a fistfight.

You still missed home. You missed your parents and cat. You missed making cookies with your parents because Christmas was the only time when both of them had time off from work. While his school was still on break, you and your dad would take advantage of your mom’s employee benefits and watch a bunch of live Broadway shows.

When your parents skyped you, you cried after seeing their faces for the first time in so long. School was so stressful, and you were starting to regret traveling so far when you could have easily gone to a school so much closer to home. You tried your best to reschedule your flight, but round-trip flights were expensive, and they increased exponentially during the holidays.

You cried for an hour after seeing the prices online.

But thanks to Michael, you felt so much less alone than you would have if you had stayed at Oxford for the entire break. You introduced him to your parents during the call, and they loved him. It was such a massive relief that they liked your friend, especially because of how much his friendship meant to you. When he left the room, your parents basically forced you to ensure he would come with you to stay with you when you returned for the summer. They were shocked when you told them he had never had fresh jianbing or a decent slice of pizza. After the call, you were confident they were making a list of every store and stall you and Michael would visit during his visit.

Classic Queens’ family behavior – showing love by forcing food down your throat whether you like it or not.

At the moment, you were at the window in your room and looking at the moon. It was about three in the morning, and the rest of the household was asleep.

Well – everyone except one.

Michael had crept in about half an hour ago, and the two of you were just looking at the stars. You hadn’t expected to see so many – you could only see the lights from planes and aircraft at night back home. There wasn’t any talking, only comforting silence. The scene outside your window with the fresh snow on top of the rooftops and ground. Each house had a slight outline of their Christmas tree lights shining from their lower windows.

Your fingers itched for your pencil and sketchbook to immortalize it.

Ever so softly, Michael broke the silence while looking at you.

“So,” he began, “how would you rate your first English Christmas in the Gavey Household?”

You looked back at him with the biggest smile that Michael had ever seen on you.

“Ten out of ten. Would pay to see lightsaber reenactment again.”

If there was a God out there, you prayed for the coming term to be as wonderful as this holiday had been for you.

Suburban Prescot, Liverpool December 2006

In a well-established suburban home in Prescot, a short boy with crystal blue eyes and inky black hair locked himself in his room. The noise and babble from downstairs gave him a headache. He hated his parents. He hated his sisters. He hated being invisible and being from nowhere.

He had to get out of here.

In his backpack, a photo of a specific heir of a manor was safely tucked in the bottom. The new term was going to be different for him. He would make sure of it.

Tagging: @aemondsbabe, @ethereal-athalia, @arcielee, @asa-do-your-thing, @valeskafics, @axelsagewrites, @the1999kid, @poolnoodlerescuer, @winterblu2, @abaker74, @whereismymindnow, @agustdeeyaa, @iamavailablesstuff, @bonnieblue0606, @st-eve-barnes, @nyxthoughtss

Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list by commenting!

#saltburn x reader #saltburn #saltburn crack #saltburn au #michael gavey x reader #felix catton x reader #farleigh catton #farleigh start #venetia catton #oliver quick #michael gavey #saltburn 2023 #saltburn movie

545 notes · View notes

artmunstudios · 1 year ago

Text

Lies of P Character Analysis: P and Carlo

Spoilers for the ending of the game lie ahead under the cut!

I have been seeing a lot of people refer to P as Carlo, specifically in the Rise of P ending, and I think it is very important to think about this fact, because it kind of goes hand in hand with the themes of the game overall. And on top of that, it's important for when making theories too!

P isn’t Carlo—he never was, and won’t ever be no matter what ending you get. Not even the Nameless Puppet is really Carlo. (His corpse maybe which is,,,,, so fucked)

I'm kinda driving this home, because I think it is really important to understand the difference between P and Carlo, because despite Geppetto claiming that P inherited his personality instead of the memories, they clearly are very different people, and that is solely because of their environments.

He’s much more like a reflection of Carlo, if he was raised in a more loving/nurturing environment. P is a Carlo that isn’t solely filled with nothing but spite and anger towards his father that literally abandoned and clearly even resented him. Compare this to the people around P at the home he knew, Hotel Krat.

Sofia— Never once really says a bad word to P. Not even in the bad ending. She is that gentle guide that, despite claiming to have awakened P for selfish reasons, acts entirely selfless and is willing for her freedom to be put on hold to help P in aiding in lessening the damage in Krat. She compliments him, gives encouraging words, and I would even dare to say she teaches P the value of life.

Antonia— Grandma. Of. The Year. Can we please give this classy lady of all sass and glory more than a peaceful death? Like???? I dunno, sneak her a bottle of that good wine, Tipple Lady seemed to really dig it. If she wasn't so sick I am more than certain that she would have been doting on P more than just verbally. I'm talking that kind of grandma, and you know exactly what I mean. This lady would somehow find a way for there to be ingredients for cookies because goddammit, she may be classy but I bet you any money she makes the best goddamn peanut butter cookies and YOU CANNOT TELL ME OTHERWISE. Every time P would come back all dirty, he would get the scolding of a lifetime because how many times does she have to tell him to leave that dirty coat and boots at the entry and let Polendina get them for a wash— And finally, if she were well enough you know damn well P would have been even more classy than he already was with those outfits. She would spend an entire day going through wardrobes and having P try each outfit on to see what looks good, because no grandson of hers is going out in drabs she will not have it— Ahem. Er. ANywayyy...that grandma. she would be that grandma. And still kind of is, she just couldn't do much being so ill. And, kind of on the flipside, I think Antonia in a way taught P the importance of death, and how it can be drawing near, but you can still be full of hope like she was.

Polendina and Pulcinella — These two taught P a very important lesson, and even taught it to him fairly early on! Puppets are not inherently evil; in fact, they can be just as alive as any human. They both love the ones they take care of, and provide that sense of kinship that P really needed. In a way, P is biracial (racial....or...????bispecies???? I????? I don't know what to call it?????) so seeing both sides of each half in him is such a great influence, and helps him realize that he may be different to both, he can belong in both worlds.

Eugenie— Sweetie. Babygirl. Bestie. She was thrown into the position of big sister so fast she didn't even realize it until like. The end of the game, I think. That conversation about her big brother seemed to make her realize that she was a big sister to P in a way, I think. Which is why the realization about her own older sibling made things much harder, I think.

Lorenzini— An eccentric, but genuinely kind hearted man. A human, that despite everything, still treats the puppets as family. Hell, he doesn't even convinced that they are the villains, and he is the one to actually initiate the whole path to when the group discovers that Geppetto is the one behind the frenzy. 1000/10, coolest uncle; he probably will buy P so many ridiculous things the moment things have calmed down in Krat. What's that? Oh, yes you need a place to stay--HAVE A HOUSE. DO YOU WANT THE BLOCK I CAN BUY YOU A BLOCK-- (Pulcinella has to withhold finances because Lorenzini will NOT stop buying P shit, and the poor lad doesn't really have a concept of money so of course he's gonna accept it all and just say yes!) .... (The realization of P not really having a concept of currency suddenly startles me. WHAT IS HE GONNA DO WHEN KRAT IS RESTORED??? POLENDINA WHY DID YOU RESET HE NEEDS FUCKIN HELP— )

Geppetto— Ah. Yes. Rat bastard (derogatory). Deadbeat dad. Control freak. YOU. I will. Give him this, and I do genuinely mean this; despite everything he has done, and how manipulative he is, he, ironically, gave P exactly what he needed from a father in some ways. Specifically, Geppetto always reminded P that he was precious and important to him, and that he genuinely did not like sending him out into dangerous situations. Even though, it was for different reasons, and the majority of us were suspicious from the start, we have to think about it from P's perspective. Think about all the things he said to him, until the end at least. P had legitimately no reason to suspect Geppetto. In many ways, as far as P could tell, he was perfect. Encouraging, gentle, he made sure P was always in tip-top shape, and he told him that he was proud to see him fight the King of Puppets (yes it's fucked up knowing it was Romeo, Carlo's possible only friend, but again, P doesn't know that until the very end). In a way, he taught P his own worth, to the point that he valued his own individuality, and refused to give up his sense of self. And in the very end, I think Geppetto realized that P was not Carlo, but he loved him like a father, despite everything.

Gemini (I FORGOT GEMINI AND HAD TO EDIT TO ADD HIM IN CAST ME INTO THE FUCKIN FIRE I AM A FAKE PINOCCHIO LORE FANATIC) - Gemini, in my opinion, in this iteration is less of a conscious and more of a??? He's kinda like Romeo's replacement, in a way; he's P's best friend. He kinda also teaches P humor as well, which is honestly a take on the talking Cricket that is so unique. He's like that awkward teacher that is young but still a little out of touch with the generation he's teaching that it's like the equivalent of hearing your 30 something professor tell a fucking dad pun. Speaking of teaching, he teaches P a lot! Especially history, and cultural stuff for Krat; and I think that's also really important for development! And it is really sweet how he still, despite Krat being in disarray, tries to kinda give the city that sense of wonder and joy for P that maybe other tourists would have.

Now, contrast that with Carlo's life:

His father drops him off randomly at a place he doesn't know (a fucking orphanage dude, you couldn't even be fucked to ship him to a proper private school at least Geppetto?) at we can assume age 10-12, without even bothering to tell him when or if he would come back, based on that first memory we see. How many more sleeps until daddy comes back? Geppetto couldn't even be bothered to see his graduation, and he claims that he would not care if he just dropped over dead. And, I'm gonna be real, just based on the line delivery, as well as some personal experiences (get into that a little later with some dissection) I fully believe he means it. I'm gonna be real, the people who say stuff like that, specifically older kids edging adulthood, most of the time they really mean that shit. And, to make matters worse, it's not even just Geppetto that brushes him off, even people that you could argue are supposed to be mentor figures, brush him off. But we don't know enough yet about the Stalker Woman, so I won't go too deep into that. Right to his death (which we have to assume was homicide) it seemed like the entire world, but Romeo, rejected him.

In a way, it makes sense that the Nameless Puppet is just a rage-filled, calculating, killing machine when it gets P's heart. It doesn't inherit the personality, just the memories. And that, with the kind of life Carlo lived, makes for a very dangerous being.

Let's also think about what Giangio said, too. He calls P a new kind of human. P doesn't just magically get human guts and whatnot. He's not human, he's a cyborg, I suppose, but even that doesn't seem entirely right. It's just kinda as Giangio calls him; a new kind of human. I guess, if we want to get cheeky, P is a Legion Human. Carlo was human, and that's just how it was. Carlo never comes back, but the memory of him does seem to live on in P. He's like??? He starts off as a reflection, and ends up becoming a legacy to Carlo, in a way.

But there is one huge indicator yet that shows that P and Carlo are separate people.

I'm gonna be honest, and say potentially a bold take, but I genuinely don't think Carlo would have cried if he were there when Geppetto dies, I really don't. Just speaking from personal experience (yet again), I have an absentee parent that, the older I get, I kind of realized was never really in my life. Similar to Geppetto in a way, too, in the concept of wanting more of a concept rather than actually being a parent. So, just speaking from that perspective, if my absentee father who never bothered to get to know me or even cared about who I was as a person died in such a way (lowkey from his own hubris) I can't say it's realistic to think that someone with that kind of relationship would cry for that parent. Feel sad? Absolutely, it's not like you are heartless and just lose all sense of apathy for that person. But it's hard to really mourn for a stranger at worst, and a associate at best.

However, P does cry. More than that, when you see him curl over Geppetto's body in the true end, that right there, is fucking despair. Again, just kind of speaking from experience, your body does some weird shit to cope when you are upset over a death. You kinda revert back to that state of being a kid, wanting to coddle your precious thing because when you were at that age, you believed that things could be fixed with stuff like a hug, or cradling, etc. It's not a conscious thought, but that is part of the reflex. P holds Geppetto, the man that he genuinely sees as his father, close; because it's the only thing he knows what to do in that moment. If we think about Carlo and Geppetto's relationship, can we really see Carlo holding his father close like that?

TLDR: P and Carlo are two entirely different people; and it is almost solely because of the environments they were in.

#artmuns rambling #character analysis #lies of p #lies of p analysis #none of you saw that deleted reblog #nope #i read something wrong in that analysis #but i still liked what i had so I made it its own post #theory time

227 notes · View notes

droogiesanddiscourse · 2 years ago

Text

Father Paul NSFT Headcannons

Pairing: Father Paul | Monsignor John Pruitt x reader (Midnight Mass)

A/N: I am literally insane, and I am literally feral. No thoughts, only Father Paul and Hamish Linklater. I am going to hell and you are all coming down with me. Writing this made me literally dizzy. Dedicated to the very lovely @jacknives who helped flesh out many of these HCs in unhinged twitter convos <3 I would not be back writing without you

Warnings: Sexual content, 18+ ONLY, minors DNI. Millie, who's Millie? Reader is written as gn! but also includes talks of menstruation (if it doesn't apply to you, or makes you uncomfortable just ignore! there are tw before the HCs including blood), blood kink, this is incredibly sexual. Feedback is always appreciated, trying to really get the feel for this character.

✧ He asks you to pray with him before the act. The irony is not lost on you -- almost like this will cancel out the evenings sins. Both your knees on the wooden floor beside his bed, hands clasps together. Your heartbeat roaring in your ears. Quietly mumbling under his breath, his wooden rosary wrapped around his fingers. The same ones that will be inside you in due time.

✧ Obsessive about making you feel comfortable and gets genuinely upset if you demean yourself. If you attempt to cover yourself up, or ask for the lights off Paul will insist for you to reconsider. He has a serpents tongue for such a holy man.

✧ "God has made you in His perfect image. Meticulously crafted from dust. I want to see you as He intended. To deny yourself is to deny God, is that what you really want? Show me. Show me all of you. And I will show you all of me."

✧ The kindest, sweetest, most affectionate lover that has ever graced the face of this Earth. He sees you as his own personal deity; and angel sent directly from God to reward him for years of devotion. The Catholic guilt eats at him from time to time, constantly there in the back of his head. But, the way your bodies intertwine perfectly together, how his cock deliciously stretches you out like it was made for you and you alone. It could never feel like a sin to him. And if God Himself made pleasures this strong, who is Paul to deny it?

✧ You have to be reasonably quiet. God knows that if anything sounds off or suspicious Bev will rear her nosy head into your private life. He'll use his mouth to quiet moans threatening to escape from you.

✧ Paul is a quiet lover to begin with. His noises consisting mostly of flushed, broken moans that get caught in his throat. He is quite talkative though. His mouth on yours, panting in between hushed praises.

"You can take it, just a few more inches. I got you. You're so strong for me. My good angel..."

"Look at me, please. I - oh god - I want you to look at me when you cum."

"I-I can't control myself when you touch me like that. Don't stop."

"Can you feel me inside of you? How deep I am? You take me so well."

"Tell me what you want from me. Tell me where you need me the most."

✧ Enjoys giving more than receiving oral; for Adam was also tempted by the delicious apple betwixt Eve's thighs. What he lacks in skill he certainly makes up for enthusiasm. He uses the flat part of his tongue to drink from you, your taste the holiest of nectars. He loves your reactions to his ministrations too. How your thighs squeeze around his head, your nails digging into his scalp. You can feel the heat radiating off of his ears, flushed pink. Paul especially loves when you pull on his thick, black locks. The perfect combination of pleasure and pain.

✧ The way he looks when he hovers over you, member thrusting into your hot core is almost indescribable. Sweat starts to curl his neatly styled hair, pieces becoming unruly and sticking to his forehead. The way his eyebrows furrow together in concentration, eyes half lidded in bliss. He will often forget his own strength. The angel blood which courses inside his veins has not only returned his youth, but given him a whole slew of other newfound abilities. His knuckles turn white as he holds onto the headboard of the bed, snapping the wood beneath his hand.

✧ Other times it manifests itself in bruises across your body - a bite too rough, a grab too strong. Being the sweetheart he is, Paul will profusely apologize for them when the post coital bliss had dissipated. But you love them, because they are proof that he was there. That you were in his bed. That his hands, his mouth, his body touched your skin. That he belongs to you, and you alone. Even if no one else knows.

✧ Loves it when you take the reins too. How his baritone register reaches up to a whine, breathy and high pitched moans as you edge him. And how delicious it will be later, smirking to yourself at mass while thinking about how easily you make him come undone. Watching this confident man deliver his sermon, know that he will be on his knees begging you to bring him the sweet release he craves just hours from now. If only the town knew...

✧ [tw // blood mention] It takes every ounce of his being to not give in to his most primal urges during sex. The mixture of pheromones and your natural scent makes his eyes glaze over, almost putting him into a trance. He'll bury his face into the side of your neck, leaving fresh bruises created by his mouth in his wake. How easy it would be to sink his canines into the soft flesh there, finding your pulse point. The sickeningly sweet concoction of iron and honey across his tongue, how he'd imagine your blood to taste.

This is your body, broken for the forgiveness of sin.

✧ [tw // blood mention] He will break this rule only sometimes. If you are someone who menstruates, he will have a strong fascination with period sex. As long as you are comfortable with it, of course. The disgusting need to see you covered with blood immediately makes his pants tighten just at the thought. While eating you out, the combination of your unique taste mixed with the tang of blood turns him into something you barely see. Your soft spoken pastor becomes an insatiable lust-driven demon.

✧ [tw: blood mention] Drinking the angel's blood straight from the cruet while taking you from behind, his thrusts sloppy and erratic. Blood running down the side of his mouth, his eyes wild. Your head looking over your shoulder, mouth agape as he pours the remaining contents directly onto the curvature of your back. He is an animal, and this satisfies the craving inside him as he licks it off of you.

✧ Once you are both fully spend and fucked out, he doesn't want to separate from you. He lets you catch your breath, both your hearts returning in sync. His large hand, pushing stray hairs off of your face and grazing his thumb against your cheek. You can still feel his heartbeat inside of you.

"Don't move, I want to stay like this."

✧ His cock still buried deep inside you, arms wrapped around your waist as you both drift off. Warmth. Comfort. Protection. Together you are one until the morning light. In which this perfect solitude will be once again washed away. From lovers back to secrecy in the blink of an eye.

Paradise lost.

#midnight mass 2021 #father paul x reader #monsignor john pruitt x reader #hamfam #hamish linklater #I am infiltrating your community

335 notes · View notes

crinosg · 2 years ago

Text

Okay so here are some more Disney Mirrorverse characters

Anger they didn't really change at all. They just made him slightly volcanic. He also has a sword (not pictured here).

Baloo basically looks like he walked out of a weird Furry version of Mad Max.

Baymax looks weird, it looks like they tried to integrate his power armor into his design. Not really a fan.

OH HI BEAST SOMEONE HAS BEEN TAKING LEVELS IN PALADIN HUH?

I like how they didn't really change Buzz's design. They just gave him a bigger gun.

Man if looks could kill Donald would already be in prison. I do like they made the effort to distinguish him from the KH version. The energy anchor is a nice touch too.

OKAY WHY IS DORY EVEN FUCKING HERE? Spare her the horrors of war I implore you!

I like this, its similar to her normal outfit, but clearly designed for combat with more maneuverability.

THIS IS THE MONADO'S POWER! I mean, EVE already has combat abilities, does she really need the flipper swords?

Again reminds me of Elsa's design. Its the same dress as the canon version, just designed for more maneuverability. And with big stupid WOW shoulderpads too. Also I guess she's just lobbing the poison apples at people now.

Yeah, remember Frank Wolff? Dwayne the Rock Johnson's character from the hit Disney Movie Jungle Cruise? Yeah no I don't either. Look, the movie had came out, they needed to promote it. Have Dwayne The Rock Johnson with a Swamp Thing arm.

This one is alright, feels like if they were making the edgy Pre MCU Frozone movie this is what he would look like.

Alright real big fan of this one. This looks like the Genie like a thousand years post Aladdin where he's become a powerful Genie lord and rules over his own kingdom and stuff. Just love the design here.

I like this. Pretty simplistic design.

Not gonna lie I could imagine canon Hades wearing this.

I think this is largely just a recolor of his canon costume. *checks* Not even a recolor, its basically just the same outfit.

Honestly never even seen Onward so I could not comment. It looks fine though, he looks like a DnD character.

So they took Judy Hopps and gave her a Zero Suit. I can dig it.

Again, this is something I could see Maleficent wearing.

So the question is how do they change up Maui for Mirrorverse? Answer, just make his tattoos glow. Its a cool effect to be sure.

this one is pretty good. No complaints.

I HAVE SEVERAL QUESTIONS. Why is Mike in power armor? Why is here here at all?

Pretty cute design, but I get the feeling Minnie isn't fully aware she's about to be going to war.

This is a nice design, its simple, and it builds subtly off Moana's normal look.

Why are his hands glowing? What does that add?

OH GOD THEY PUT OLAF IN A LITTLE CAPE I CAN'T. Why is he even here? Olaf cannot face the horrors of war. He looks so determined too like that face says "I'm about to kick some ass today!"

Okay the jacket is a bit much, but I am kind of digging the roulette wheel shield and the dice flail.

Again have note seen Raya, but this seems alright. Probably should make time for some of these newer Disney films, especially since I want to show support during the whole DeSantis....thing.

Really like this one, especially the sewing needle weapons.

Goddamn Scar, cut back on the vaping man! What the actual fuck with this one?

Okay I'm out of space for pictures in this one so gonna continue this in a part 2.

#Disney Mirrorverse

167 notes · View notes

tenok · 1 year ago

Text

Today I saw this ask:

and I want say it without being mean, in absolutely happy tone, because yes thank you I'm overjoed we have this discussion moving: yes!!! Yes you are, you misundestood not only Aziraphale’s, but also Crowley’s character, and that makes them both bland!

The whole point of Good Omens is about shades of grey, remember? We had it stated sever times in canon. It doesen’t mean «pure good Crowley makes pure evil Aziraphale better person». It means that they both are absolutely not perfect, and it’s what makes then human, and it what makes them actually better, because perfection leads to uniformity and they are so so unique!

Crowley’s not jumping to saving every soul he see. Even from the start! Before the beginning? He loves his stars, not concerned for some monkeys that would look at them! (which is absolutely normal! Why he should care?). Adam and Eve? He’s nervous because he wasn’t expecting such harsh punishment for some dumb apple, he thinks it’s unfair, he's willing to discuss it with Aziraphale — which doesen’t want to discuss anything, but he also can’t stand to see humans suffering when he can do something. He’s the one that selflessly and not thinking about how it will hit him back jumps to help! Great Flood? They both stands there, just watching, and yes, Crowley argues that it’s unfair again, but Aziraphale’s not there with «oh it’s actually fine :)» smile as some people insist — he’s worried too and, and things he quote sounds awfully as something heavens would say to the one angel that immediatly asked «but surely we can’t kill everyone??». He’s quoting it because he have nothing else to say, not for Crowley, not for himself. And they both can only watch. Christ? Again, they’re not jumping to save, they watch.

(side note, but I think people just don’t get how important it is. We live in awful times, there’s so much war and death around, and you can do only an itty bitty things to help but it’s not enough, and it can crush you if you’re alone. I would’ve end in hospital or in prison two years ago if there wasn’t a friend that shared all this with me. And they had each other. That's the bond that stronger than any romantic love)

Next three flashback are not about helping anyone (although let’s remember that Arragemet wasn’t some noble plan, it was about two lazy cowokers finding a way to do less work and hang out more! it’s important too! they’re lazy and selfish and want to live in forever vacation, which is mood). Then our favorite Bastillie scene — now they both watch the executioner being dragged to be killed. No one of them did something to stop it, although they could’ve, you know, just leave him there naked or something. Because nah, sometimes they both just don't care (and I want to point it too: kindness, when you do it correctly, shouldn't be only to nice people you like. Sometime you help a nasty person. Or your abusive ex-boss. But also sometime you're there for the date and you don't want to be kind to some dumb human that's so happy to kill others)

Edinburg? Yep. Crowley loves Elspbeth immediatly, because she’s doing something naughty, she’s cheeky and she makes Aziraphale fret. So he helps her… to dig the body. Which is fine, again, he finds it all amusing and he’s not concerned for this girl safety or livehood. He’s in good mood and he wants to party and maybe theoretically discuss God’s cruelty with his angel. But Aziraphale sees the nice poor girl that made choices that can cost her ethernity in afterlife, and he tries to help! And look, he's not saying she just should drop everything and pray, he's actually trying to brainshtorm what she can do insted of evil naughty thins! As living human that needs to eat! Like, he’s there asking absolutely normal questions for someone who didn’t get accustomed to industrialisation and early stage capitalism yet (he’s slow, ok, although I’m mad because remember that this dialog was in book? and it was a thousand years earlier? and it was a Crowley who took a whole year to understant that it’s unfair while Aziraphale knew this and was like, well, it’s party line, what are you expected? why they shifted context so much). In the world where no one was killed Crowley would help her with body and go back to drinking or something, lefting her to dig another body next evening and live like this forever. But Aziraphale’s the one that wants to change that!! Go through episode, read the lines, look at their faces without being attached to fanon Jesus-like Crowley and you’ll see the one being that knows that the system is fucked and doing nothing to change it and the other not understanding system wholly but being willing to bend the rules and eventually risk his life to help — and I want to point it hard — NOT innocent human! She’s a street rat, she’s a grave robber (and Crowley understands why it’s bad more than Aziraphale, until the «it’s different when it’s someone you know» moment, but still he was in favor of digging bodies), she’s not deserving of help by heaven’s standarts, and still Aziraphale’s willing to risk falling, again, for her and her human lover! (THAT'S foreshadowing much, huh? HUH?) And that’s when Crowley understands: oh, shit, it’s not funny for him! It’s not just a lesson on morality! He’s really really can get punished if he do something stupid now!

Remember that second point of season was «stop messing with humans please»? That’s where it’s started, arguably.

So, like, yes, Crowley obliviously wasn’t planning to save Elpsbeth in any way until Aziraphale was willig to do it first. And why you need it to be different? We already know that Crowley’s nice deep inside. He doesn’t do anything bad there, even. It’s not a slander to his character. There’s billions of humans he — or Aziraphale — doesn’t help every day. Crowley accustomed to this, that’s the point. But then Aziraphale’s doing something risky (again, that’s his whole deal: sword, this scene, ditching his platoon and diving on earth, the nimb bomb — all done [or almost done] in defiance of heavens and for the humanity, all by his own, without Crowley’s influence! You don’t need to take this from him and stuff good qualities into Crowley until he’s absolutely flattens, Aziraphale doing something good is not stealing goodness from Crowley!).

Also remember 1941? The ones where Aziraphale wants to take down the nazi spies while Crowley smuggles alcohol? It’s the same pattern! Crowley don’t want to be mistaken for nazi (so he changes his shirt), but he’s not involved in any anti-nazi work (we talks about canon there, you can have headcanons, I sure do). It’s Aziraphale who jumps on chance to do good, again, and Crowley, again, deals with nazi only when they are the treat to Aziraphale. WHICH IS FINE. It doesen’t makes him bad. It shows that he loves his comfortable life and a little of mischieve, while Aziraphale loves his comfortable life and a little of doing good. It’s important that in this scene there’s no visible, like, innocent kid being harmed right now — I’m sure Crowley would’ve go out of his way to help then. But Aziraphale get’s tangled with some spies and suppliers, they doing nazi work indirectly — you need to think strategically to understand why you should help there, which Aziraphale clearly does. It also shows that he willing to work on changing things and not passively wait (or sleep) untill bad times go away, when he gets a chance to do it without miracles (as we saw in Edinburg minisode, he’s afraid that too many miracles or too big miracle used to help wrong people will put him in trouble). Which arguably foreshadows final fifteen again, but it's not the point of this post.

I can go next scene by scene but whatever, I’ll just remind you that’s while stopping the apocalypce was Crowley's idea, he:

— wasn’t concerned for the humans, at least at the start — he was mostly concerned for his earthly life, as much as Aziraphale, which includes humans, but not in oh-I-want-to-save-them way. Which is good! All first season is about how being a little bit egoistical and thinks about yourself can motivate you to change the world because it's YOUR world too!

— was actually working toward apocalypse and looking forward to it, until Antichrist came and he suddenly get that it will happen, like, for real (that’s literally said by word of God, remember?)

— and also, Aziraphale wasn’t opposed to idea of stopping apocalypse, he was sure that there’s no way to stop it and all that they can do is to hope that heavens will win (at least there’s no torture in heavens!… probably)

Like, it wasn’t Crowley explaining to Aziraphale that «apocalypse bad, heavens bad», it was him TEMPTING Aziraphale to give in to urge to stop apocalypse because he loves his earthly life as much as Crowley!!

Anyway, my point is — fandom loves black and white thinking. One should always be right, let’s make another one always wrong. One should always be heroic, let’s make other one villian or damsel in distress. That’s not how it work in real life, that’s not how it work in Good Omens, and Good Omens actually would’ve be really bland if it was the case. Aziraphale changes Crowley as much as he changes Aziraphale, but as everything Aziraphale do, it’s much more subtle. And they both get changed by humanity! (remember, again, the doctor from Edinburg? He sure was an eye-opener for them both)

Another thing, I think, is that people doesen’t want to step into Aziraphale’s shoes. Why would you do it, when there’s Crowley, who’s always right? It’s much more pleasant to be right, and Aziraphale’s always so unsure and his growth is not linear and sometimes he’s even says bad things! Nah, easier to not think from his perspective at all, and easier to not symphatise with him, just patronize at best, to make Crowley a better person for being willing to teach him too (which honestly makes azicrowley looks a little creepy, but you do you, just not in front of my salad please). So people that projects into Crowley, already the ones that unwilling to be not right or not good or not the most hurt party in every fight (again, it's understandble! but really narrows your perspective), gets really uncomfortable if you points that their characterisation of Crowley is not always in line with canon, because a) that makes him wrong or not-perfect sometimes and b) it makes THEM wrong or not-perfect sometimes.

Again, it’s not me picking a fight, and it’s fine if you have another interpretations of anything we saw on screen or any different headcanons. But try to look at what I said not from the point of hostility and character slander but from the point of love, because I LOVE them so much and I love them BECAUSE they both are painted in shades of gray! You don't need to mold Crowley into absolutely different character to love him! Imperfection is fine and good!

#good omes #meta I guess?#sorry my english is bad and my meta writing skills are even worse #but I saw this ask and get exited #'why are you kin Aziraphale' they ask #because I too always think that if only we all could have a nice chat over the cup of tea we sure would've came to understanding #(that was a joke I'm a not a kinnie I'm too old to even fully gasp what's that means)

27 notes · View notes

ciaossu-imagines · 1 year ago

Text

For Day 10 of the event, I used the word ‘Halloween’ from prompt 15 for the main four from Black Cat! I don’t know if any other fans of the series still actually exist, but I deeply love this manga and I hope if there are any fans, that they’ll enjoy!

Halloween: if you could dress up as anyone/anything and pull it off absolutely flawlessly, who/what would it be?

Train would definitely go all out for a Halloween costume. I think the holiday is one that he would love and get excited about, though he had little chance to experience it growing up. He makes up for lost time though, always putting together insane costumes. I feel like he’d really dig the pirate aesthetic or a werewolf or something else kind of classic but really theatrical.

Sven, like his daughter, has his own very set sense of style and he’s not someone who compromises it for something like Halloween. On top of that, he definitely has clearly defined tastes that would influence his choices in costumes. I feel like he’s definitely a fan of film noir and old school private detectives, so he’d likely make that his Halloween costume, especially as he’s someone who is also going to take into account how much a costume would cost. With his wardrobe, he won’t need to buy too much more to have a perfect costume that feels like he just stepped out of an film noir detective’s office.

Eve would want to be something scary but also elegant for Halloween. She has a real set sense of style to begin with and she doesn’t want to compromise on that just for Halloween, so sillier or bright costumes just don’t appeal to her. I think she’d like playing into the nickname she has of princess and would do something akin to an Elizabeth Bathory or Queen of Hearts costume, something royalty based but with a slight psychopathic and deadly twist to it, just to get that scare effect that she feels any Halloween costume should have.

Rinslet would absolutely go as Catwoman for Halloween. She feels a real affinity for the character, the Selena Kyle old school version, and the outfit itself is really cool. Besides, she knows she looks good in skintight leather, and she enjoys showing off her body, so the costume works all around.

#unrequested prompts #black cat #headcanons #train heartnet #sven vollfied #rinslet walker #eve

5 notes · View notes

abyssalzones · 2 years ago

Note

🍕🍀🎹 FOR ANYONE (everyone) IN EV YOU WANNA TALK ABOUT!!!!! id love to hear abt them all but do so only if youre in an infodumping mood don't force yerself <:)

Yasha you of all people should know that I am Always in an info-dumping mood. VERY LONG POST UNDER THE READ MORE

🍕 - What is their favorite food?

ROSE CUBBAGE: I'm fairly certain I've answered this before (feel free to dig through my OC tag to find a series of other asks that I went into depth with a little while ago) but I think Rose would love any type of food that is a sweet/savory combination. Foliaverds don't have strong "sweet" flavor receptors, being hyper-carnivorous, but the sugars you'd see in fruit do get across to their palette more or less. See this dialogue from the outline of a chapter:

DOMINO: Domino is extremely picky about her food, something unusual for her species- who are usually content as filter-feeders, snacking on whatever bacteria and small animals (or even bits of dead animals- they aren't picky) make themselves at home in the caverns of Yxin, either colonizing the rocks or floating aimlessly through the densely-chemically-populated air- but she has an odd taste for salts. Odd, because that stuff is considered pretty acidic and foul to most moeboids. Keep an eye on her or else you'll lose track of your table salt.

VENUS: As with most Ikarians, Venus's diet consists mainly of insects. However, he normally has a very subdued appetite due to... multiple things. Their samefoods mostly consist of cold (or just not hot) things that don't have a very strong smell: frozen crickets, protein chips, dried fruit, and (expensively) tenjarian-tempered yogurt that's supposed to be digestible for every species, but most think it tastes... awful. Venus loves it, for some reason.

GILLS KVN: Herbal tea and pain pills. Well- that'd be the answer early on, anyway. He starts eating more regularly with time and feeling a little more comfortable actually getting out of his lab to visit the kitchen, and as per usual for his species, mostly favors raw seafood. He prefers animals with shells, though, since overly-mushy textures bother him immensely. As for his favorite favorite, I think he'd enjoy a bowl of south Kaaleran noodles (thin, dried parasitic eels native to Kaalera's coasts, cleaned and fermented with starch. Add steamed veggies, whatever eggs you have on hand, and plenty of spices), which is notoriously too hot for most species to handle.

SPARKPLUG: I elaborated on this a little before, similar to Rose, but I think Sparks is partial to sweets! Sweet for his species, anyway. He loves the kinds of tangy, metallic preserved pastries native to his home planet, recipes carried down and altered by his family for generations, across planets. I'm lazy so I'm just going to steal what I already wrote:

Pie is a universal concept.

NORA ACTON: Peanut butter + banana + bacon sandwich. Simple, very filling. I like to think she only realized this after moving out and trying to figure out how to feed herself in her academy days.

🍀 - What originally inspired the OC?

Going to give you a catch-all answer for this to start with: the conceit of the comic, and subsequently most of the crew, was that it was originally a cast of Starbound OCs! That obviously has changed, but it's still in their roots. As for specifics...

-Rose was sort of her own thing, a position of leader and captain that needed to be filled- and she only really came into her own later in terms of development, inspired by characters like Alyx Vance or Ellen Ripley in particular- and my own personal experiences, actually. I think in a lot of ways Rose is closest to me.

-Venus's inspiration is weirdly difficult to pin. Taako from TAZ, maybe? A little bit of the Rito from when I played BOTW? He's kind of his own character, really.

-Gills, however, was definitely strongly inspired by Ford Pines. I feel like it's a little obvious sometimes. Then, a little later, characters like Spock, or Kim Kitsuragi.

-Sparkplug... draw your own conclusions based on the information above, particularly his dynamic with Gills. His arc, however, was also strongly influenced by my own ongoing struggles with chronic fatigue.

-Domino is inspired by a whole host of fictional characters, ranging from Lupin to Max from sam & max to Shiraishi from golden kamuy, but the most important part is that she was originally an OC created by my friend Addy, who I've known since the comic was in its baby stages. That part of who she is is extremely important to her core as a character.

-Nora is kind of like... a fusion of Sam Raimi era Peter Parker and inspector Zenigata from Lupin III. But british. and butch.

🎹 - Do they have any hobbies?

ROSE CUBBAGE: Worrying. Creating collages, actually, but those mostly consist of future plans and secret obsessive corkboards. She used to enjoy biking, and still has her bike from when she was an older teenager sitting around on the station, despite not using it much.

DOMINO: Stealing things to create "art" in her room. I think she'd love to branch out and create more multi-media type stuff, but she's mostly motivated by boredom.

VENUS: Between you and me, I think they write fanfic. Something he would no doubt label as extremely cringe and keep very close to his chest, but fun to kick back and knock out a couple hundred words on every once in a while. They mostly tinker with robotics, though that's less of a hobby and more the main thing he does around the station, so it can get a little boring. I think they could put effort into making video games if they really felt up to it, but they struggle with seeing the point in it. Creative passion projects are embarrassing, after all- from his perspective.

GILLS KVN: Aside from reading, I'm not so sure Gills has any hobbies to begin with. He spends most of his time working on projects in the lab, which while he might consider it fun, it's still ultimately work. I think he would really benefit from taking up something like terrariums or aquariums, maybe some casual gardening. That, and cooking- which is really another form of chemistry, if you think about it.

SPARKPLUG: Another damn workaholic. However, Sparks enjoys music as a hobby immensely, and is rarely far from a stringed instrument, such as his retractable banjo. When the joints in his hands get tired or locked up, I think he'd enjoy getting outside and doing a little nature-watching. Does that count as a hobby? It does now.

NORA ACTON: Nora is definitely the most visually artistic of the crew, something that she's never considered for a career but definitely enjoys as a hobby. She mostly does environmental art, studying things from nature and her surroundings- a fun practice for someone with such a photographic memory. Similarly, I think she loves using her camera, even if it's mostly something she picked up for work.

#lab notes #oc tag #THANK YOU YASHA

3 notes · View notes

anneapocalypse · 11 months ago

Text

I have a few ships for Ariane (she has a big unrequited crush on Minfilia before her disappearance, and a brief but intense love affair with Haurchefant up until his death; yes she has had very terrible luck), but her "endgame" ship is Urianger. They have a long friends-to-lovers slow burn, and Urianger was kind of a slow-burn fave for me as well! It was in the Heavensward patches that I really began to love him and pay more attention to him, and I truly had no idea at the time how well that was going to pay off later with how much wonderful character development he gets. He has become one of my favorite characters in FFXIV, and I find him both deeply relatable and fascinating to dig into in terms of the lore surrounding him. Also he's just an absolute delight to write, and I'm really looking forward to sharing more of what I've been working on.

I mostly prefer NPC ships for my character because I can write what I want for them and indulge as much as I like without having to depend on someone else's interest in the ship remaining as strong as mine. I'm a mostly solitary writer and while I'm not totally opposed to collaboration, or RP, when it's a ship I deeply love, it's nice to have it be my own space.

My husband and I do have an AU where our characters are together, but we haven't done all that much with it; he has NPC ships for his character as well, which I love for him.

I had toyed with the idea of Urianger as a ship for Ariane for a while, but it took some time to figure out how it would happen and when the timing would be right. It definitely couldn't have happened for them any earlier than it did, because neither of them would have been ready for a relationship. Ariane is grieving Haurchefant for a long time, and Urianger is grieving Moenbryda, and they both have a lot of complicated feelings about themselves tied up in that, with Urianger blaming himself, and Ariane blaming Hydaelyn. But in many ways it's that grief that draws them to one another.

Ariane wasn't close to Urianger when Moenbryda died, and felt there was little comfort she could offer at the time. The Warriors of Darkness incident was a sort of confluence of things happening for her. In saying goodbye to Minfilia she accepted that Minfilia had made a choice, had not been taken against her will, and that Haurchefant had made a choice too. And in seeing how long Urianger had labored alone and in secret, she realized he really wasn't okay and hadn't been since Moenbryda, and she thought, maybe somebody better like. Check in with him, now and then.

So from then on, and throughout Stormblood, every week or two when she could she'd take the aetheryte to Western Thanalan and stop in at the Waking Sands. "Just checking in" turned into "Wilt thou stay for a cup of tea?" and they talked about magic and books, and Ariane started bringing little gifts like a new variety of tea or a new translation of Far Eastern poetry, and it turned out they had a lot in common actually: both big readers and students of magic, both inclined toward the healing arts, both fond of poetry, both socially awkward nerds with complicated relationships to their families who treasured deep friendships but did not form them easily, and of course both having experienced great loss and grief in their lives.

When Urianger got pulled away to the First, they both realized how terribly they missed each other, and of course things got a bit complicated in Shadowbringers, and they might have confessed their feelings for each other a lot sooner had the Exarch's secrets not driven some distance between them. Ariane needed some time to be okay about it, and Urianger gave it to her. But they worked things out, and on the eve of the Scions' risky return to the Source, they did finally confess their feelings for one another and have been together since.

What I love about them is that even with how much they have in common as people, I don't think they would ever have ended up together if not for connecting over certain shared experiences. Both of them have loved and lost (my headcanon is that Urianger and Moenbryda were on-again off-again romantic, they definitely loved each other but it was complicated), and those earlier loves were no less real to either of them because they were ended by tragedy. Neither of them could have been with somebody who expected their love to eclipse all others in their life, or to heal all the wounds of the past just by existing. Love, and life, are bigger and more complex than that.

Almost forgot to add pics!

Chatting in the Waking Sands:

Making eyes at each other in Il Mheg:

Staying warm in Garlemald:

Another random WoLQotD/OC question

I thought I'd ask this while I worked on my other questions. :)

If you're a WoL x NPC shipper, what drew you to that ship and why? What makes that ship the pinnacle for you and your oc? Is it that you love the canon character you write them with, you find their dynamic interesting or something in between?

If you're not a WoL x NPC shipper, but you have a ship with another person, how did that come about? What makes that ship fulfilling for you? Has the ship impacted your relationship with that other person? Feel free to gush, I wanna hear it!

Oh, and pictures are a must (if you have them).

#ariane clairière #the stars are blind my love #ffxiv #urianger x wol

320 notes · View notes

eggrestes · 4 years ago

Text

ladrien fic recs!

there are SO MANY amazing ladrien fics i cant possibly cover them all but here are a few!

(all the ratings used are ao3 ratings)

((this is a very long post!))

FLUFF

Of Ivy and Sunlight by cyanise [ T, 1509 words, 1/1 ]

When Adrien takes to wandering the streets of Paris in ungodly hours, Ladybug has no choice but to keep an eye on him. Still, things are bound to get a little out of hand between two overloaded teenagers with a lot of love and not enough self-control.

a lovely post-chat blanc fic :’) it has a great flow and is just soft and so sweet and it’s just perfect. gosh i cannot really say more other than read it!!! also almost all of their other stuff is also ladrien so do check it out!

This can't be happening by PlaPla [ T, 6,467 words, 1/2 ]

Ladybug is unsure whether accompanying Adrien to a gala as his not-date is the best or worst thing that has ever happened to her. But when their table mates turn out to be none other than her long time friends Alya and Nino and with Adrien acting weirder and weirder she finds herself with bigger worries than an unrequited crush.

a djwifi/ladrien double date? hit me up! i love identity shenanigans, ball dancing, ladrien, and djwifi and this is a perfect mix for me. i know it’s incomplete but it doesn’t end in a cliff-hanger really, the part 2 is just a promise of more so it doesn’t feel incomplete! PlaPla also has a short oneshot of ladrien going for a motorcycle ride.

Falling again by emsylcatac [ M, 4,506 words, 2 Works ]

They had been dancing around each other for a while now, and while fifteen year old Adrien would have been ecstatic at the idea of dating Ladybug in secret, twenty-two year old Adrien knew better. But Ladybug wasn’t making it easy. It was like… she, too, was falling for him. And that surprisingly enough, she didn’t mind.

* * *

Or Adrien trying (and failing) to keep things professional between him and Ladybug when the two of them partner up for a mission. Older AU

things are a little steamy~ here (don’t worry, it’s only implied it’s very mild and closer to a T rating than the M) but it’s a great mature take on their dynamics! emsy has more ladrien one-shots in her collection of one-shots!

i'd love to go on a date with you by sae_what [ G, 6,480 words, 1/1 ]

Once it had been falsely announced throughout Paris that Adrien and Ladybug are in a relationship, Ladybug pays him a visit to turn him down gently.

Only, she doesn’t. And instead, she has a formal dinner date. With Adrien. At 8 pm. Tonight.

LADYBUG IN A SUIT!! aaaaaaaaaaaaaa. okay but for real it’s so sweet and also??? they are on a date!!! a rooftop date!! (too man exclamation marks oops)

Always Welcome by chatonne-rousse [ T, 1,683 words, 1/1 ]

Ladybug knows that Adrien's window is always open for her to swing by and stop in, whether for video games or a chat or, like tonight, for soft kisses and sweet nothings.

He loves these visits. His girlfriend is always welcome. Always. (Especially for kisses.)

Written for Ladrien June, day 8: bluebell eyes.

established relationship, pre-reveal ladrien. there is something very home-y about this fic and it’s all about the comfort and quiet that i adore about it!

Five Times Gabriel Agreste Caught Ladybug in His Son’s Bedroom (and the One Time He Caught Chat Noir) by agrestenoir [ T, 1,923 words, 1/1]

Gabriel Agreste keeps finding Ladybug in his son's bedroom. As a super villain and father, this will not stand.

this crack fic is... honestly so hilarious. it’s all through gabrie-i-am-trying-to-parent-and-failing-a-lot-agreste’s POV so it is so much ridiculous!

an uncurtain discovery by Missnoodles [ T, 4,684 words, 1/1 ]

When he returns from school on Wednesday afternoon, Adrien discovers the darkness in his own home. He struggles to come to terms with it. To his utter mortification and delight, Ladybug is nearby to rescue him.

(He does not discover that his father is supervillain. That will happen on a different Wednesday.)

Adrien is being a cat and gets tangled in the curtains on his window and it’s utterly ridiculous. all the bug and the cat tendencies make it funnier and adrien’s inner monologue is just a cherry on top!

secret valentine by a_miiraculer [ T, 12,245 words, 1/1 ]

this is the moment that we will come alive brace yourself for love sweet love, secret love

If Adrien had known that getting himself stuck in a tree would end like this, he would've gotten himself stuck sooner.

A drabble series.

i just,,,, don’t have words for how much i love it! it’s ridiculous, it’s cute, it’s funny, it’s whole-some and just ladrien. the writer also has a M rated multi-chapter ladrien kissing (no the M is very much real here) and a heroic adrien and ladybug one-shot too!

Those Benevolent Stars by peachcitt [ G, 23,696 words, 3/3 ]

“Will you come back?”

She looked up at the deep blue sky, as if she could somehow find the answer there. “I shouldn’t,” she said, shaking her head and looking back at him. But the stars were still there, caught in her eyes, and Adrien persisted.

“But will you?”

adrien meets his soulmate, a thief who calls herself ladybug. he falls for her, but she seems determined to maintain a space between them.

oh my god this au.... just no words!! it’s poetry and it’s tender and it’s about the yearning and just!!! perfect :’). Her current ongoing ladrien june fic is also akin to this (and the fic i linked before it) so do check it out too! (literally check out all of their works it’s so beautiful)

Flowers on the Window Sill by LNC [ G, 2,144 words, 1/1 ]

The first time Ladybug saw him, really saw him, the universe stopped.

this fic feels like poetry and it’s so lovely. LNC is always short and direct but it always hits right in the feels while also being hilarious. Her other ladrien works are just as good and i highly recommend going through them because it fulfills all of the ladrien needs (along with Reiaji)

whatever a sun will always sing is you by komorebirei [ T, 32,980 words, 37/37 ]

“I didn't think you'd actually... do anything," Adrien admitted, cheeks prickling with warmth. "I-I mean, I never expected... I didn't know you watched my interviews.” That definitely wasn’t how he'd imagined confessing to Ladybug.

“Of course I do!” Ladybug squeaked. “Uhh, that is…” She looked down at her hands, nervously turning her yo-yo over, over and over. “Maybe you’re not the only one with a crush.”

(After an unexpected confession, Ladybug and Adrien start dating in secret. A progressive character- and relationship-study quilted from drabbles, with the intention of digging treasure out of the cove that is Ladrien. Written using kashimalin-fanfiction's kiss writing prompts from Tumblr.)

it does such an excellent job at exploring this dynamic along with the characters. it’s such a sweet fic, each chapter short and fun!

ANGST

whose woods these are (I think I know.) by Reiaji [ T, 105,000 words, 25/25 ]

Four years after his future turns to cinders, Adrien is a servant in the house he was meant to inherit. Disowned by his father and abused by his stepmother, his days are filled with drudgery until he meets a masked huntress in the forest behind his father's chateau.

As his friendship with Ladybug turns to first love, he dreams of a future spent at her side.

Then, on the eve of the Princess's masquerade, he meets his guardian—and is granted a wish.

[Ladrien Cinderella AU]

Warnings: Child abuse, Graphic depiction of violence

this is absolutely gorgeous. it has so many troupes and so many amazing character arc and great build up and everything just flows so well. it left me in awe for weeks and i just. want to experience reading it for the first time again. look at this gorgeous art inspired by this! {and you have to read leonard bernstein too because LETTERS and LADRIEN and YEARNING}

i would do it again (oh, a thousand times) by bugabisous [ T, 2,266 words, 1/1 ]

Knowing you can bring someone back doesn’t mean you’re free of the pain of seeing them disappear before your eyes. He can’t imagine he’ll be able to look at her directly without replaying every horrifying moment when he felt her slip away in a puff of smoke.

When it happens once again, he already knows he’ll be trying again. He just can’t give up.

it expands on adrien’s feelings in the episode desperada (my beloved <3) and it is just ouch. such great angst, such great potential. the kind of tragedy that it offers is unusual for ml (it gets only rivaled by chat blanc tbh). to rival this angst bugabisous also has a fluffy one-shot :)

when the world gets too heavy (put it on my back) by Taliax [ T, 4,720 words, 1/1 ]

Chat Noir isn't allowed to cry over his father. But even when he's just Adrien, Ladybug won't abandon him.

Hawkmoth reveal hurt/comfort + Ladrien

the plagg and adrien bond written is just perfect, and oh this hits right in the feels :’) it hurts all in the right way. tali also has so many other ladrien works in all genres too

By Your Side by omniousunflower [ T, 4,361 words, 1/1 ]

(Angry and alone, Adrien waits on top of the Eiffel Tower for his lady.)

“So, how did my kitty get stranded up here?” Ladybug asks.

Groaning, Adrien pulls his knees toward his chest and presses his face against them. “Because he’s stupid and impulsive.”

“Chasing pigeons, then?”

“No.” Shame burns in Adrien’s veins, white-hot now that Ladybug is here to witness his stupidity. “I threw my Miraculous, and Plagg wouldn’t get it for me.”

post-hawkmoth defeat, and adrien is not doing well at all. i am cheating because it is post reveal, pre relationship but it’s still ladrien. this fic is a roller coater of emotions, starting from a slightly crack scenario to a cute, awkward, hopeful ending. More Than You Know is another of sunny’s angsty ladrien work!

Breaking The Rules (AKA The Ladrien Fistfight) by ThisKwamiNeeds_aNap [ T, 8,714 words, 1/1 ]

Marinette may or may not be dying, but she’s still going to do her best to fix every single problem in the world. She’s not expecting Adrien to be the one who tries to stop her. (Takes place immediately after Kwami Buster)

Warnings: panic attack, broken bones, PTSD. please read the tags!

*slaps this fic* this fic can fit in so much angst. it just?? left me in PAIN oof. it says ‘ladrien fistfight’ on the lid but nooo there is marinette is just having a freak out and it’s all so much??!! and it’s not just marinette there is adrien too and chloe and alya and- wow it’s amazing. love it so much it fills up my angst needs :’)

so that’s it for now! my personal commentary isn’t impressive nor does it do justice to the fic but i still hope you read a few of these!! happy reading!!

#ladren #fic rec #ml fic rec #miraculous ladybug #i know i dont do the fics justice but. oh well #lovesquare #ladrien #obviously check out the writers other workd too but this is ladrien so i am trying to give it a bit more emphasis #also i am so sorry i couldnt include more lesser known writers but unfortunatley they dont have ladrien uRGH anyway maybe sometime later!#i spend a lot of time on thi n got lazy so plz be considerate #also add recs if u want even self-promo is cool duh

123 notes · View notes

lalainajanes · 4 years ago

Text

This completes column #2 on my bingo card, the square was “Eager Backstage Groupie”

Another Shot of Courage

Saturday, May 1st, 8:16 AM

Caroline wakes up in an unfamiliar bed, in the little black dress she'd worn to Kat's birthday party, with a headache and a foul-tasting mouth. She's sprawled in the middle of a very large mattress, so the first thing Caroline does is explore. She stretches her arms out tentatively, expecting to poke someone (hopefully an unobjectionable someone) awake.

She appears to be alone, and Caroline relaxes into the fluffy pillows. She wiggles experimentally, satisfied when her bra and underwear dig into uncomfortable areas and gives in to the temptation to burrow under the duvet.

She just needs a minute to regret her life choices before she confronts them. Caroline sighs, stretches, and her fuzzy head begins to clear, memories sharpening.

And yikes.

Can she stay in her self-made blanket fort forever? A lot of her conduct last night had been highly irrational, some of it downright hypocritical. She is a public relations professional, highly sought after. Her clients pay many pretty pennies for her services.

Had she seriously mauled Klaus Mikaelson in one of the trendiest clubs in LA?

Caroline tugs down the blanket, intent on confirming her suspicions, allowing her to look around and study the room with new eyes.

There's a brick fireplace at the end of the bed, a wide armchair in front of it – not particularly revealing. Her eyes flick to the left. There's nothing, but dark curtains pulled tight over a wall of windows.

When she looks to the right, there's a smoking gun. Well, kind of. It's a drafting table, an easel, and shelves featuring paintbrushes, haphazardly stacked sketchbooks, and a bunch of other things that Caroline doesn't currently have the brainpower to identify.

She considers slipping out of bed and checking to see if those curtains cover any kind of door. She thinks it's logical to assume so. She's only been to Klaus' home a few times, tries to insist they meet at her office. She's never ventured far beyond the kitchen and living rooms, but it's a Spanish-style bungalow on a sprawling lot. Why wouldn't he have a walk out into the yard from his bedroom?

She discards the idea with some regret. Running away without a word is a coward's move and would probably backfire. Klaus is still her client, whatever psychosis had gripped Caroline last night, and it's not like she could dump him via email at this point. He's got a huge movie coming in three weeks, and they're flying to London tomorrow to begin the premiere tour. She could probably pass it on to another publicist, but she'd still be on the hook, would have to coordinate her plans long-distance.

Selfishly, Caroline hopes that's not necessary. She'd hate for someone else to reap the benefits of her hard work.

She heaves herself into a sitting position, wincing when her head throbs. Her stomach seems solid, with no hint of queasiness, so that's a plus. Caroline tosses the covers aside, shifts until her legs slide over the side of the bed. She catches a glimpse of herself in a mirror through the open closet door and cringes.

She'd done an excellent smoky eye last night, and it's migrated all over her face. She doesn't even want to consider how long it's going to take to detangle her hair. She decides she can wait a bit to hunt down Klaus, stepping forward and twisting the knob on the closed door. "Jackpot," Caroline mutters, walking into Klaus' bathroom. There's a stack of towels on the counter, and she figures it won't hurt to take a shower.

She'd had her tongue in his mouth and had apparently kicked him out of his bed, so what's one more presumption?

Friday, April 30th, 10:47 PM

In the VIP lounge Kat had rented, elevated above the main dance floor, Caroline waves away a shot of tequila. She'd had one during the birthday toast, wine at dinner. Had just ordered an overpriced cocktail. She's pleasantly tipsy but needs to pace herself because she can't get too drunk tonight.

Besides, Caroline and tequila have a complicated relationship.

Kat boos her, a few of the other girls joining in. Caroline laughs, "I know, I'm boring. I have a million things to do tomorrow to make sure I'm ready to live out of a suitcase for weeks."

Katherine scoffs, "Just make Klaus buy you anything you forget. What good is a guy who's hot for you and makes big fat superhero movie paychecks if he won't buy you pretty things?"

They've discussed this a bajillion times. Caroline has actually run away from this exact conversation, shouting nonsense syllables, with her fingers jammed in her ear, as if she and Katherine still fight over Barbies and who gets to wear dress-up trunk's best princess dress.

Caroline still can't resist arguing – it's a character flaw. "He's my client. That's it."

"Oh, please. Men in this town bone their clients all the time."

"That doesn't make it okay!"

Usually, this is the part where Katherine tries to convince her that Klaus is dying to be boned – her words, not Caroline's – but she gets distracted, squinting across the bar. Kat's lips curl, expression growing sly, "It appears my argument is moot."

Um, what? Katherine's literally never backed down from an argument in the twenty-plus years they've been friends. Puzzled, Caroline turns, trying to see what caught Kat's attention.

The club features several VIP lounges, each located at the top of a short staircase and decorated with wide velvet sofas and crystal chandeliers. There's an attendant who keeps booze and food flowing. It's clever – the sofas are inviting and squishy, tend to force people close together. The chandeliers ensure that anyone who happens to take a picture can get a decent shot, and the free flow of liquor has lowered the inhibitions of at least half a dozen celebrities, resulting in photos that send the gossip blogs into a tizzy as soon as they hit the internet.

When Caroline spots Klaus across the way, a redheaded model sprawled in his lap, she's immediately fuming.

"Looks like he got tired of waiting," Kat drawls. "Wanna reconsider the tequila?"

"Katherine. I love you. But zip it."

Katherine makes a face but leaves Caroline alone, turning to another one of their friends and asking a question. Caroline takes a deep breath, counts to ten.

She'd busted her ass to make him appear family-friendly enough to land the movie with the very PR-conscious studio that had netted him the big fat checks Katherine had just been crowing over. He's jeopardizing that on the eve of the most significant press tour of his career.

She looks over again, leaning forward. The redhead's moved away, she's sitting at Klaus' side, and they now appear to be merely engaged in conversation. Caroline does her best to think like a photographer – is there an angle that could make the scene look tawdry?

Probably not. So really, Klaus isn't jeopardizing anything.

Caroline's anger doesn't cool at the revelation.

She's so screwed.

She's on her feet before she decides to be, stalking down the stairs. She hears Katherine yelling borderline lewd encouragement at her back, but Caroline knows better than to take her advice.

She's marching over to diffuse, not inflame.

Hopefully.

Saturday, May 1st, 9:01 AM

She finds Klaus in his living room, asleep, his legs hanging awkwardly over the arm of a too-short couch, his torso twisted so awkwardly that Caroline's back twinges sympathetically. With the confirmation that she had stolen his bed, more of Caroline's irritation fades. The shower had helped, as had the bottle of water she'd guzzled and the three Tylenol she'd popped.

She takes a seat on his coffee table, setting down her second bottle of water. Caroline reaches out, shaking his shoulder gently. "Klaus," she murmurs when he begins to stir. "Wake up."

She could probably leave him to sleep. Klaus' stylist will handle most of his packing; he's borrowed a dizzying volume of outfits and accessories for Klaus to wear on this trip. The announcement won't come for another two weeks, but Klaus is shooting a Dior cologne ad once his press obligations wrap. The brand had requested he start wearing the newest line. Caroline had attended the last fitting, and she'd had a hard time keeping her blatant ogling under wraps.

Klaus looks good in ratty jeans, in a suit tailored to his measurements? Just about anyone attracted to men would have struggled not to appreciate the sight.

That's how Caroline had justified letting her emails pile up that afternoon.

She'd been a little worried about her control slipping on this trip, once they were alone in the hotel, and Klaus dropped the shiny, press-perfect façade he's learned to maintain. Caroline had designed that mask to appeal to the broadest possible audience. Doing interview prep has unfortunately only emphasized how much more she likes Klaus without it.

Klaus stretches, eyes fluttering open. "Good morning," he murmurs, voice husky with sleep. "I hope you slept better than I did."

Caroline winces, "Don’t you have a guest room or two you could have shoved me in?”

He smiles lazily, “You were quite insistent on touring my bedroom.”

Her eyes slam shut, face heating, “And that is why I don’t drink tequila unsupervised,” she grumbles.

He laughs, sitting up, his legs bracketing hers. He reaches for her water bottle and helps himself to a sip. Caroline leans back, fishing the Tylenol out of the pocket of the hoodie she’d stolen from his closet. She’d needed something bulkier to hide the fact she hadn’t been able to convince herself to strap her bra back on. “Do you want these?” she asks, rattling the bottle.

Klaus shakes his head, “I’m not hungover. I didn’t drink at all, and you stole that shot of tequila that was meant for me, remember?”

Ohhh no. She’d forgotten about that. She’d stolen his and the model’s.

Which, in hindsight, goes a long way to explaining what had happened after. Caroline’s problem with tequila is that once she starts, she has a hard time stopping. It heightens her usually non-existent impulsive streak, leads to sub-par decisions.

Occasionally, tequila does make her clothes fall off.

Caroline buries her hands in her face, wishing she hadn’t tied her hair back. She’s mortified, probably growing splotchy. “I am so sorry,” she mutters.

Klaus sighs, tries to tug her hands away. Caroline resists, tensing her muscles, wishes she’d gone with her first instinct and fled out the backdoor. He rests his hands on her knees, squeezing, voice dipping into coaxing tones. “No apology necessary. I’m not the least bit upset.”

Unfortunately, Caroline’s totally up to the task of being upset enough for the both of them.

Friday, April 30th, 10:53 PM

Once the attendant in Klaus VIP area confirms that he does know Caroline and lets her up the stairs, Klaus has managed to increase the distance between his body and the model’s. He seems pleased to see her, grabbing her hand and tugging her to sit next to him on the couch.

Close enough that they’re connected thigh to shoulder.

The model, whose name Caroline doesn’t particularly care about, is less welcoming. She glares daggers at Caroline’s hand, still enclosed in Klaus’. He makes polite introductions. “Genevieve, this is my publicist and very good friend, Caroline Forbes. Caroline, Genevieve. She’s a friend of Kol’s.”

Klaus’ younger brother is also an actor, still firmly in the throes of his wild child phase. Caroline finds him entertaining, despite her best intentions, but he’s known to delight in making her job more complicated. She glances around suspiciously, “Is Kol here?”

Klaus gestures vaguely to the dance floor. “Somewhere. He dragged me out to celebrate a pilot he booked, then disappeared.”

Hmm, that could lead to disaster. Caroline wonders if she should shoot his publicist a text as a professional courtesy.

Caroline smiles at Genevieve sharply, “So sweet of you to keep Klaus company.” It’s mean, but Caroline wonders if Genevieve has somehow heard about Klaus’ Dior deal through the grapevine. Maybe she’s aiming for a co-starring role – Caroline’s read the treatment for the commercial; it’s supposed to be streamy.

Oh, good lord, High School Caroline has somehow time traveled and taken over her body.

Genevieve pastes on an equally fake smile (at least Caroline’s not the only one regressing). Before she can snipe back, a silver tray is set in front of them, two shots resting on it. The attendant catches Caroline’s eye, “Can I get you anything, Miss?”

Klaus interrupts, squeezes her hand in an absent apology, “Sorry, there must be some mistake. I ordered a water.”

He’s contractually obligated to maintain a ridiculously chiseled body. Caroline’s got a reminder in her phone to order him a pile of celebratory spaghetti after his press obligations are officially over and he can relax for a few months.

The attendant’s eyes flit to Genevieve in confusion, “I…”

“I cancelled that,” she chirps, sliding her hand up Klaus’ arm. Genevieve leans in, tone lowering to what Caroline thinks is supposed to be a seductive level. “Figured we would toast.”

Caroline catches it because she’s practically plastered to Klaus’ other side. “Who toasts with tequila?” she asks. “Other than creeps at bars, I mean.”

Had Caroline not been well acquainted with Katherine Pierce, she might have been intimidated by Genevieve's attempt at a lethal glare.

Caroline stares back, reaching blindly for the first shot. She tosses it back, then the second, fighting the shudder that wants to wrack her frame through sheer willpower alone.

“Bitch,” Genevieve mutters, standing and flouncing away.

It’s petty, but Caroline savors her win.

Klaus is staring at her oddly, a touch concerned. “Maybe we should get you some water, love.”

Saturday, May 1st, 9:04 AM

“There were more shots when I got back to Kat’s party,” Caroline moans. “I’m going to kill her. She knows my weaknesses.”

“While I am reluctant to defend your irritating friend, she did seem rather intent on her fun. It was her birthday, wasn’t it?”

Caroline nods, “Yeah. And Kat’s always been firmly convinced that she should get to do whatever her little black heart desires on her birthday.”

“She did insist I ensure you get home safely. I’m afraid you were rather reluctant to supply your address.”

She sighs, finally dropping her hands. “Honestly, I just moved into a condo. I might not have remembered it.” That’s the less embarrassing option. It’s probably more likely that tequila drunk Caroline had crafted a plan to seduce Klaus, and step one entailed getting invited to his house. “I know you said not to apologize, but I obviously put you out. I’m supposed to babysit you, not the other way around.”

Klaus laughs, his knee nudging hers. “I haven’t needed that for ages, as you well know.”

He has a point – Caroline likely wouldn’t have agreed to take him on if he was still indulging in public drunkenness and paparazzi punching. When she’d first met with Klaus, it had been out of curiosity. She’d made a comfortable living from her client roster, did not need to take on the project of a difficult actor.

Klaus’ bad behavior had been a few years in the past, and he’d just come off a run of festival darlings and had produced a surprise hit sci-fi drama. He’d been frustrated by the doors that remained firmly shut to him, had laid his ambitions on the table.

Caroline had been intrigued. While she’s excellent at her job, but it’s always easier to work her magic with clients who are willing to dive into the work. Klaus’ talent was undeniable; she’d thought he could be a household name with the right opportunity. She’d agreed to take him on, and three years later, it’s paid off.

Caroline tugs the sleeves of his sweatshirt down over her hands, eyes on the frayed trim. “I was mad when I saw you last night, and that wasn’t fair. You’d set you were resting up for the press tour, but it’s not my business if you changed your mind.”

“Did you think I was resuming some bad habits?” Klaus asks. “I know that particular venue has a… reputation. Probably why Kol picked it.”

Caroline sneaks a glance at him, trying to gauge how he feels, but he’s not giving much away. “No, not really. I trust you. I wasn’t thinking super logically.”

She has to admit, at least to herself, that she’d been jealous. Caroline’s going to have to think about how deep that goes, if the feelings that had slapped her in the face last night will prevent their working relationship from being effective. What if Klaus meets someone? Will she be able to plant sneaky tidbits about how happy they are, scour the gossip blogs for rumors that could become issues?

“You? Not thinking logically? However could that be?”

She glares at him, though she knows his teasing is good-natured. “Some of it was the booze. I totally wouldn’t have hauled you onto the dance floor without it. And I wouldn’t have… well, you were there.”

She’s not up to list her transgressions. If Klaus hadn’t been drinking, then his memory of her wandering hands, her flirtatious comments, and heated invitations should be crystal clear. Caroline had been drunk, and she’s having a hard time not dwelling on the kiss – which, to be fair, Klaus had enthusiastically participated in – that she’d initiated.

“I was there. I have no objections to anything that occurred last night, save perhaps wishing you’d been sober.” Her head snaps up, eyes widening in shock, and Klaus laughs incredulously. “Surely you must know of my interest in you, Caroline.”

She’s suspected, but she’s also well aware that Klaus has no shortage of offers. Last night is proof of that. Caroline has always assumed that take one of them, at some point, and his flirtatiousness with her would fade away. She’d dated an actor or two when she’d moved to LA after wrapping up college. Caroline had been working insane hours then, trying to claw her way past the other assistants at the agency where she’d worked. Her exes from that time period had been quick to move on once they realized she wasn’t willing to center her universe around them.

“Interest can be fleeting.”

“It’s been three years.”

“You never made a real move.”

Again, Klaus counters quickly. “You’d not have accepted, and then you’d likely have pawned me off on someone else.”

Yeah, he’s got a point there. “I’m your publicist.”

“I have no objection to mixing business with pleasure. If you do, I suppose I’m willing to suffer a less competent publicist.”

“I’m beginning to suspect you’ve been plotting.”

Klaus shrugs, entirely unrepentant. “Perhaps a bit. I’ve always been entirely honest with you, I merely prevented a situation that would lessen the time we spent together until such a time as you were ready to consider me in a romantic light.”

“That’s a lot of words to confess you’ve been trying to flirt me into submission while flashing your hot body at every opportunity,” Caroline grumbles.

Klaus’ smile widens, dimples now visible. “It seems to have worked. Assuming that you meant the things you said to me last night?”

“I…” she hadn’t been expecting him to ask her that directly. She should have been – Klaus is skilled at choosing the best way to catch someone off guard. Caroline glances away from him, eyes catching on the clock across the room. Crap. She has so much to do. “I have to go,” Caroline tells him, standing up.

His eyes narrow, and his head tips to the side, like he’s searching for a sign of weakness. Both telltale indicators that Klaus is gearing up to argue. Caroline holds up a hand, “I know, okay? This looks like I’m running away, and technically I am, but this is not the time to begin that mixing you mentioned. We’ve both worked too hard to risk screwing up the next few weeks. Did you read your contract? The fines for non-compliance are no joke.”

“Now is not the time,” Klaus says slowly. “Meaning?”

“We table it now. I’m open to a discussion later.” Three weeks is plenty of time for her to sort out where she stands, right? Caroline never sleeps on flights anyway.

He runs a hand through his hair. “I want a timeline. I understand that you feel obligated to ensure this press tour goes smoothly, but you can only use it as an excuse until it’s over, love. I’m prepared to be persuasive.”

“What, do you want me to schedule something on your calendar? Maybe set an agenda?”

“No need to be so formal. Just agree to have dinner with me once we return. Here, if you’d like, so we don’t risk inflaming the tabloids before you’re ready.”

“You seem awfully sure that this is going to go a certain way. So eager to fire me?”

Klaus gets to his feet, and Caroline sucks in a nervous breath. Sitting across from each other, he’d been a reasonable distance away. Now, with both of them standing in the narrow gap between his couch and coffee table, if one of them breathes too deeply or shifts deliberately, they’ll be plastered together.

She’s tempted despite knowing she’s right about the timing.

Klaus rests his hand on her waist and turns them so Caroline could step back if she wanted to.

She stays where she is.

A tiny smile curls Klaus’ lips and his hand moves, pressing her closer. “As much as I enjoyed your more… explicit ramblings last night, I must confess my favorite revelation was when you confessed to just how long you’ve had them.”

Caroline, not for the first time, curses tequila’s wretched existence.

Wednesday, May 5th 2:20 PM

The meet and greets are going to kill her.

Caroline had thought they were a good idea when she’d poured through the itinerary the studio had sent over. Inviting popular bloggers, auctioning off tickets for charity, allowing fans to enter random draws – it’s great PR and provides the opportunity for viral moments, while also controlling the environment.

Caroline’s leaning against one of the walls, unnoticed, eyes on her client.

A lot of eyes are on her client, some of which irritate Caroline more than others. The two teenage girls, trailed by an exasperated dad, who’d both burst into tears when Klaus had smiled at them? Totally adorable. The nerdy college student who’d grilled Klaus about his character’s comic backstory? Kind of a pain, but Klaus had done his homework, and Caroline had been impressed.

And annoyed. Excessive preparation is very attractive and unhelpful at this juncture of the press tour. Caroline’s already begun to reconsider what they’d agreed to, wonders if knocking on his hotel room door on the last night would be such a bad thing.

That line of thinking might be overly influenced by the scene in front of her.

Klaus is speaking with a woman in an afternoon inappropriate silver dress. Caroline’s sorely tempted to have her escorted out by security. She’d slipped a key card into the back pocket of Klaus’ jeans within 90 seconds of meeting him.

He’s handed it back, said something that made her laugh. They’re still talking.

Klaus glances up, eyes landing on her immediately. Caroline hastily tries to soften her irritated expression lest he guesses its reason. Klaus smiles, subtly tips his water bottle in her direction. Silver Dress invades his personal space a little more.

Ugh. It’s gonna be a long three weeks.

#klaroline #klarosummerbingo #klaroline fanfiction

33 notes · View notes

marzipanilla · 1 month ago

Text

I had to dig around to find this post bc I DO have thoughts about it too. Comic spoilers as well so my response under the cut. I will be upfront and say I am trying to be neutral, but I do dislike Oliver as a character and I am aware there is no way that doesn't influence me

So. First off- it's Oliver. He gets his powers at 10-12, the age Nolan expects him to. So. This man does not have the extra years wondering if it's going to happen. It happens.

There is no Teen Team (they wouldn't have even formed yet ! Eve's powers might not have even awakened, Rudy may or may not even have Robot build in a lab) so who takes over when Nolan kills the Guardians? Is Samson dead in this universe? When did he lose his powers?

How does Debbie feel about a grade schooler running off into danger?

Mark is 17 when he gets his powers. So. What. 3-ish years old by Thraxan/Viltrumite hybrid status? If he ends up on Earth as a toddler (and I agree that Oliver going to Thraxa is not very likely in this AU just bc I don't see Debbie being okay w a floating dog showing up at her door and telling her grade schooler he needs to go into space, though who knows, maybe he has a fit and says I go, maybe it's like you said and he simply doesn't bc why leave Earth) but right now- say a toddler Mark does somehow make it to Earth. Oliver suddenly has a brother who reaches his age and then rapidly outgrows him. Also, Oliver would not hesitate to kill Levy. That man shows up, he's dying and it wont take dimension hopping and Debbie's arm getting broken for it to happen. Does Levy's screeching about how horrible Oliver is in all the other universes feel more like a warning in this AU rather than some very frustrating profiling?

If the rough timeline of big events stays the same, this would also mean Mark doesn't have his powers by the time the Viltrumite War rolls around. Meaning they would be short a fairly powerful ally.

What's Debbie's relationship like with this kid who doesn't have powers but seems like he's going to get old and die before the decade is out? Only for him to suddenly get powers? Does she end up closer to him than Oliver bc they seem like the only powerless ppl in the family? Does Oliver just come to the conclusion that his mother loves Mark more bc he's a child and seeing his mom spend so much time w another kid just makes him feel that way? Oliver in this AU I think would have way more divorced parent energy, which Mark has a little bit of in cannon, I just see it being way more intense with a younger kid. Oliver would do comic!Mark's route and beg his dad to come home so they could all be a family again, I think.

Did the war drag out because there wasn't an extra Viltrumite on the Coalition's side? Does Mark take the Thraxan ship he came to Earth on and have to head out into a several year war rather than one that just lasted ten months? Is his dad or brother severely injured from the run in with Conquest? Was there ever an Earth conflict w Conquest before the war? What would that have entailed? Oliver is not a character who hesitates to use violence, but he is a lot younger here. Does the fledgling Teen Team get decimated here? Does he watch a bunch of his young friends die? Had he joined them and become a part of a superhero group? Could ~12 year old Oliver have stood up to Conquest? Did it take whoever the hell the Guardians are plus Immortal to do it?

And the other option- Mark simply never makes it to Earth bc Oliver never comes to Thraxa. What's it like for Oliver to eventually meet his little brother who appears older than him? Does it take that long for them to meet? What the hell happens with Nolan in a universe where Allen never has any reason to come after him? Arguably Mark would have just been killed on Thraxa as a baby when the Viltrumites scooped up Nolan.

Admittedly though, the whole AU falls a bit apart for me right at the beginning. Because to me, there's no way that Oliver- Kid Omni-man someone who when raised on Earth and given a superhero big brother who has a lot of thoughts on death STILL comes to the conclusion murder and genocide are justifiable- doesn't immediately hear his dad say, 'Son, it's time to take over for the planet for the greater good', and not immediately jump on the bandwagon. like. there's no way. So there is a lot of neat fall out to consider, but I would need a very interesting explanation for why Oliver wouldn't join his father at the get go and completely derail the whole concept.

I just had a really coked out AU idea in which Oliver and Mark swap places (Oliver is the first child, Mark is the Thraxan hybrid). Comic spoilers obviously.

So a lot of Oliver’s personality is due to his genetics from being half thraxan (the photographic memory), but even setting that aside we can assume that Oliver is very intelligent. He’s also a lot less emotionally driven than Mark, he’s more of a logical and pragmatic kind of guy.

So what would it mean if Oliver was the one who grew up first on Earth with a human mother? Oh boy.

Oliver doesn’t care too much about Earth in the comics because they aren’t his people, there’s fundamental differences between both of his species and humans for him to really relate to them on the same level, plus the first and most formative few months on his life was spent on Thraxa. But in this AU… he’d be attached to Earth instead.

First major divergence: Oliver wouldn’t be Invincible, he’d be Kid Omni-Man, which raises extreme questions for his public image after Nolan is outed as a conqueror. But in canon, Oliver chooses to go by his father’s name because he wants to continue the image that Omni-Man had originally created as a savior. Unlike Mark, Oliver wouldn’t deny that he is like his father, but he’d focus on the positives rather than looking at the negatives.

Second major divergence: Oliver would not butt heads with Cecil, he’d understand him. He’d likely not even go out to Thraxa to help the Thraxans to begin with (so he probably meets his little brother in a different way—Nolan bringing him to Earth (unlikely since Earth would see him entering the atmosphere and be on his ass), or maybe someone in the coalition tells Oliver, that’s a whole different dilemma. Who knows.

The whole reaniman/Nightwing II dilemma wouldn’t happen because Oliver would understand it. He wouldn’t see anything wrong with it.

Anyway this sends things on a drastically different trajectory since Oliver would still be working for Cecil for the middle third of the story. The Invinci— sorry, Kid Omni-Man War would have Oliver under direct tactical orders from Cecil which could definitely change some things. I do not remember every detail about the Invincible War but I do remember Mark did do some things that weren’t exactly great ideas.

Conquest fake death: Cecil doesn’t have a need to lie to Oliver, the boy is loyal. He tells him that Conq is still alive. Oliver helps the GDA to actually successfully interrogate him. He’d be able to hold him down in his weakened state. And they could execute him after.

I’m going to stop the speculation here for right now because honestly I’m kind of rusty on some of these events (basically everything from IW onward) but I figured it would be worth talking about to see if it gets anyone else thinking.

#oliver grayson #mark grayson #role swap #invincible comic spoilers

29 notes · View notes

songbirdsingingthings · 4 years ago

Text

Home for the Holidays - Izuku Midoriya x Reader

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN ANY OF THESE CHARACTERS, THEY BELONG TO KOHEI HORIKOSHI

DAY FOURTEEN OF 25 DAYS OF CHRISTMAS - 25 DAYS OF CHRISTMAS MASTERLIST - MAIN MASTERLIST

When Izuku first told you he had to work over Christmas Eve and Chritsmas day you were distraught. What would’ve been your first Christmas since you moved into his apartment would now be spent alone. Of course, you couldn’t blame Izuku - he was the number one hero and was needed for difficult missions, but that thought couldn’t comfort you as well as it should’ve. You were currently splayed across the lush couch that was situated in the living room watching a mind-numbing holiday movie. You weren’t exactly following the plot, but looking at the quality of the acting and the scenery you could easily deduce it was a romance movie. Before you could get more into it, though, you heard your phone ringing.

“Hello?”

“Y/N! Hi, It’s Inko!” A smile instantly spreads across your face as you hear Izuku’s mom’s voice flood through your phone. You press pause on the t.v. remote so you could hear her more clearly.

“Hi! Inko, how are you?” You ask as you get up off of the couch.

“ I’m great sweetie, how are you?” You smile a little sadly as your fluff up the pillows you had been previously laying on.

“I’m alright, a little lonely but I’m all good.” You say, walking over to your large kitchen.

“Oh that’s right, I forgot Izuku was working tonight! I’m sorry that you aren’t together.” Inko says. You could hear her genuine sadness leak through your phone but you just smile as you open the refrigerator.

“Please don’t apologize, it’s neither your nor Izuku’s fault! Just some villains trying to stir up trouble like usual.” You pull out some leftovers from the other night and begin heating them up in the microwave. The two of you chat about little things that popped up in your lives, commenting on the new line of hero gear and how close Christmas was.

“Y/N, is that you?” A new, deeper voice echoed through your phone and you grinned as you heard the voice of your old teacher greet you.

“All Might, how are you!” You exclaim. Ever since, well, a couple months ago, Inko and All Might have been ‘hanging out’ as they like to say. It absolutely blew Izuku’s mind when he found out but he couldn’t be happier.

“Please, call me Toshinori! I’m doing well - how is young Midoriya?” He asks, earning a laugh from you. Ever since UA, that name has stuck to your boyfriend.

“Fighting crime like always!” You say as you carefully take your food out of the microwave, taking note of how hot it was. You were thankful that Inko, and by the transitive property, Toshinori, called - it kept your mind off of Izuku’s absence. They told you all about how the new generation of UA students is as bright and bubbly as yours was, all idolizing you and your classmates. Suddenly, there was a knock at the door. You talking immediately ceased and you stopped eating to look at the door. Checking your watch, you let a confused expression take over your face. It’s kind of late, who could be here? You wondered, slowly getting up from your chair. “I’m gonna have to call you back real quick, there’s someone at the door.” You say.

“Of course honey, take your time!” Inko says cheerily.

“We’ll be here!” Toshinori adds. You say goodbye quickly and put your phone down on your dining room table and cautiously make your way over to the door. Reaching out for the doorknob, you twist it and peak through the small slit, only to throw it open once you see who was there waiting. With a tired but jolly look on his face, a bouquet of red and white flowers in hand, and the dopiest grin, there stood Izuku Midoriya.

“Izuku!” You exclaim, launching your body onto his and wrapping your arms around his muscular form. The green-haired man stumbles a bit but returns your actings, wrapping his arms around your waist. He lets a chuckle flow out of his mouth as he nestles his head into the crook of your neck, placing a soft kiss to your shoulder.

“Miss me?” He quips, letting you back down.

“I thought you said that you weren’t gonna be back in time,” You confess with a wide smile. Izuku just slings an arm around your shoulder and walks you back into the apartment and shuts the door with the heel of his foot.

“We managed to complete the mission early. I think everybody was just super determined to get back to their loved ones for the holidays, especially me.” He says, giving you a sly smirk. You roll your eyes and press a kiss to his cheek. You walk over to the refrigerator to heat up more leftovers.

“Your mom called,” you say casually, placing a bowl in the microwave.

“Really? How is she?” He asked happily, hanging his coat up on a hanger in the little closet. You grin, a mischievous look in your Y/E/C gaze.

“I think she’s doing pretty damn well.” You reply. Izuku stops in his motions, immediately picking up on your hinting tone.

“Y/N… what is it?” He asks warily, walking over to you. You lean back on the counter and look at your boyfriend.

“Oh, well, your old mentor’s keeping her company.” You see Izuku’s eyes widen and then covered by his hands. You laugh as he groans, your hand reaching up to ruffle his hair in amusement. “Come on Izuku, relax! You knew this was bound to happen.” You say, taking his hands away from his face and holding them in yours. He gives you a grimace and takes a deep breath before he jumps a bit,

“Oh, hey! I got you something.” He says as he begins to dig around in his work bag.

“Izuku, I thought we said that we wouldn’t be doing Christmas gifts this year so we could redo the flooring.” You say, frowning a bit.

“Darling, I love you, but there is no need to save up money for that.” He says, implying that he had more than enough in his bank account to cover that expense.

“But I didn’t get you anything…” you confess, looking at the ground.

“Hey, it’s okay! Besides, this is gonna be exciting for me too.” He says, pulling out a slip of paper and handing it to you. You look at the sheet and your eyes go wide.

“We’re gonna get a dog?” You ask softly, eyes looking into his with wonder.

“Yeah! I just figured since we’ve both been talking about it -oof!” Just like when you saw him at the door, you squeezed Izuku into a bone crushing hug.

“I love you.” You say. You feel him chuckle, vibrations from his stomach reverberating off of your torso.

“I love you too.”

169 notes · View notes

wiypt-writes · 4 years ago

Text

Stark Spangled Banner

Chapter 12: Fairy Tale Of New York Part 2- Love In An Elevator

Summary: In the run up to the Festive Period, Katie presents the Publishing Company proposal to the Stark Industries board, and our favourite couple spend their first Christmas together in New York. New Year’s Eve is welcomed in with a bang at a Stark Industries Gala and Steve’s simply happy he has his girl by his side…even when there’s a little mishap in The Elevator

Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark

Warnings: SMUT (NSFW!) So over 18s only please. And some teeth rotting fluff… and LANGUAGE

A/N: This part was a smutty one shot written as a request from @icanfeelastormbrewing, but I decided it sits better as a part of the main story line.

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Katie Stark and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

Chapter 12 Part 1

Stark Spangled Banner Masterlist // Main Masterlist

“What are you wearing?“ Tony asked as Katie looked up from where she was sat with Natasha in the main area of the party room, the two of them watching re-runs of Friends on the large holo-screen.

She looked down, “What does it look like?”

“A hoody with a Captain America shield on it.”

“You’re clever…” Natasha quipped. Tony ignored her and continued talking to Katie.

“Did he give you that?”

Steve, who had at that moment walked into the room, sighed and crossed his arms.

“No I didn’t.”

“I’ve had it a while.” Katie shrugged, smiling up at Steve “Hey Soldier. All sorted?”

He nodded “Tony and I did a full sweep of the venue. Evans is keeping an eye on it now until we turn up. We’ll do a final check before we start.”

“Where’s Pepper?” Katie looked at Tony.

“Meeting us there.” Her brother answered, dropping onto the sofa. “Thought I’d get ready here and head down with you guys.”

Katie smiled and checked her watch, giving a start. “Oh, shit, Franco will be here soon to do our hair…then we need to get dressed before make up…Nat, we need to go.”

Natasha and Katie stood up, Katie giving Steve a quick peck on the lips as she passed him. “I’ll let you know when it’s safe to come up”

“Okay.” He nodded, watching the pair of them as they headed off to get ready.

“Safe?” Tony looked at Steve, and he gave a shrug.

“I’m assuming she means once they’re actually dressed…” His eyes flicked to the TV.

Tony pondered for a moment before he stood up. “Drink?”

“Sure, thanks Tony.” Steve nodded, his eyes turning to Clint as he walked into the room.

“Hey.” The Archer greeted them both, a huge grin plastered on his face.

“What are you looking so pleased at?” Tony asked him as he rounded the side of the bar.

“I am excited!” he smiled “To see this huge New Year’s celebration to End all New Year’s celebrations you’ve been talking so much about…”

“Well, you know I can throw a party.” Tony mused, grabbing a bottle of scotch and three glasses.

They were joined shortly by Bruce, and the four of them sat drinking for an hour, talking about anything and everything, before Tony looked at his watch and decided he too needed to get ready. Following suit, Steve decided to brave whatever chaos was going on in the apartment upstairs and as he walked into the living room he could hear chatter coming from the bedroom.

“Well, it kinda fits, but I fall out of the top a bit.” he heard his girl say. “I only wore it once. You can have it if you want.”

Steve approached the bedroom, to find the door open. He took one glance inside and once he had stopped staring at his girl, he felt his mouth drop open at the chaos the two women had created.

“What the hell?”

Katie and Nat both turned in unison to find Steve leaning on the doorframe, staring wide-eyed at the mess they had created.

“We got side-tracked…” Katie shrugged before turning back to the closet. “Nat decided her dress wasn’t flashy enough after seeing mine so we’re looking for alternatives.”

"Is that supposed to explain why it looks like the closet threw up all over our room?” Steve asked, arching an eyebrow.

Katie smiled as she kicked an errant heel out of the way and reached down to dig something out of the pile of clothes on the bed. “What do you think about this?” She asked, holding the shimmering navy mini-dress up.

“Do you actually own that?” Steve asked, “I’ve never seen it.”

Nat turned to him and raised a single eyebrow. "But you’d like to see it on her now, wouldn’t you?”

“I happen to like the one she’s wearing.” He said, and he meant it. The scarlet-red, number which she had agonised over buying clung in all the right places, but it was the thigh high split up the right side that was setting his blood pumping, as with every move she made he got a flash of her long, delectably toned leg along with a cheeky flash of that thigh tattoo. Her hair was falling in sleek waves around her shoulders expertly framing her pretty face.

“Oooh, now this I like.” Nat said, pulling out a black silk jumpsuit from the closet.

“Yeah that’s nice.” Katie nodded “I got that in London. Try it on.”

Nat turned and looked at Steve, jerking her head to the door. Instantly realising what she meant he held his hands up and hastily backed out of the room.

Once he was gone Natasha stripped off and shimmied into the jumpsuit, turning to look at Katie.

“Nice…” Katie nodded, and she meant it. Nat’s legs looked about a mile long, her waist was tiny, and the deep V neckline at the front flashed her boobs perfectly. “We just need…” Katie moved to her dresser and pulled out a roll of tit-tape, flashing it at Natasha. Once they’d adjusted the front, it looked perfect.

“Very nice.” Katie affirmed before shouting out into the hall. “Steve, come here.”

Steve re-appeared in the doorway, arms folded stoically over his chest, with a rather alarmed-looking Tony by his side.

“You weren’t kidding.” Tony muttered as he surveyed the mess.

Katie ignored him and looked at Steve. "Tell Nat how sexy she looks.”

“Katie!” Nat exclaimed, and for the first time in the history of knowing her, Katie was amused to see Nat’s cheeks burning red in embarrassment as Tony barked out a laugh.

“Yeah, I’m not gonna tell her that,” Steve sighed, rubbing at his temple in exasperation.

“I think you look very nice, Natasha.” Tony offered, smirking. “For a merciless assassin, that is.”

“Fuck off, Shell-Head.” She narrowed her eyes at him.

“Rude.” Tony sniffed. “Anyway, I came to tell you your make-up artist has arrived. I sent her to Nat’s.”

Steve let out a sigh of relief and Katie looked at him.

“Okay, we’re done here anyway,” Natasha shrugged. “Let’s go.”

"What? Wait,” Steve stammered, spinning around and following them to the living room. “You can’t just come over and trash the place and then leave.”

“Of course I can,” Nat shrugged. “Watch.”

He rolled his eyes. “I’m blocking you from this apartment.”

“Errr technically it’s my apartment.” Katie looked at him as Natasha left, following Tony, and he folded his arms. “Just shove it all on the floor, I’ll sort it later.”

“You’re a pain in my ass.” Steve grumbled and Katie grinned.

“But you love me. I’ll be back up once my make-up is done.”

He rolled his eyes again before he smiled softly “You look great already. That dress is gonna kill me you know?” Katie flushed slightly before she leaned up and gave him a soft kiss. “I can’t wait to see you a tux again.” “Yeah?”

“Yeah…but I’m gonna enjoy getting you out of it even more.”

******

“Katie looks nice.” Bruce commented.

"Nice,” Rhodey repeated “She looks unbelievable. Mind you I still remember her as an eighteen year old student with blue streaks in her hair…”

Steve smiled as he watched Katie from where he was propped up against the bar talking to Rhodey and Bruce. She was mingling alongside her brother, talking to a group of people from Stark Industries. He saw her throw her head back in a laugh that was ridiculously over the top yet somehow she managed to make it look perfectly natural. He knew his girl was a knock out. But when he had seen her earlier that evening when her and Natasha had been getting ready he had been lost for words. The dress she had agonised over hung to her every curve, skin bare at her back. Her hair was set in soft, thick waves which framed her face. Her lips were painted in a smiliar red to her dress and the thick, smoky shadow and eyeliner over her lids made her green eyes stand out even more. As he watched, the dark haired, slightly overweight man she was stood next to dropped a hand to the bottom of her back and she turned to smile at him, gently patting his shoulder before she glanced over as Steve, rolled her eyes and mouthed “help me.” He let out a chuckle “Scuse me fellas…” and he strode across the room.

“Ah, the man of the moment.” Tony greeted him, “We were just talking about you.” “Oh?” Steve smiled, dropping a kiss to Katie’s cheek. “All good I hope?”

He didn’t even have to shoot Mr Wandering Hands a glare, the man instantly moved away as Katie stepped gently towards Steve, his hand curling around her waist.

“Yeah.” Tony nodded “Sorry, Cap this is Jeremy Saul, Finance Director for Stark Industries. Jeremy was just asking where you were.” “I couldn’t believe for one second this gorgeous lady would be here on her own” Jeremy smiled offering his hand. Steve’s left hand gripped Katie’s hip a little tighter and she smirked into her champagne flute as he shook Jeremy’s hand with his right. “Good to meet you Captain Rogers.” “Jeremy is part of the board.” Katie said, levelling Steve with a look. A look that was blatantly telling him to be nothing but charming as Mr Wandering Hands could veto her proposal. So Steve was. He politely listened to the man, answered questions and nodded along until Wandering Hand’s attention was diverted elsewhere and he excused himself from their company, but only after dropping a lingering kiss to Katie’s cheek.

“Slimeball.” She muttered when he had gone “I swear to God Tony, it’s only a matter of time before someone files a sexual harassment case against him.” Tony snorted “Until he does something outta line he’s staying Kiddo. For one thing he’s good at his job, and for another I don’t fancy the rigmarole and bad press associated with a tribunal.”

“Mr Stark…” Happy called to him. Tony spun round to see the man tapping at his watch and gesturing to the stage.

“Better go before Happy has a heart attack, can’t have my speech being thirty seconds late.” Tony rolled his eyes and he span on his heels, striding over to Happy, placating the man who as making furious gestures with his hands.

Katie chuckled to herself and grabbed another 2 glasses of champagne off a waiter as he passed, dropping her empties onto the tray. She handed one to Steve who dropped a kiss to her head.

“I know I said it before but you really do look incredible.”He still couldn’t believe his luck at times. She beamed up at him.

“And you.” And she meant it. He looked good enough to eat in a well fitted black tux and slightly off-white dress shirt, along with the cufflinks she had given him the previous year. She had watched him before as he looked himself up and down in the mirror and now, looking him over as he stood by her, she felt her stomach flutter again. A wicked smirk crossed her face. “Can you leave the suit on later?”

He was about to quip back that he’d do whatever the hell she wanted if she left those heels on too, but there was suddenly loud music blaring out and the light on the stage all started moving around zooming in and zooming out.

Katie, upon hearing the music gave a loud scoff “Egotistical dick!” She snorted, unable to hide the laugh in her voice.

“I don’t…” Steve began but she shook her head.

“You won’t” she smirked “It’s by a band called Queen- One Vision. Listen to the lyrics and you’ll understand why he chose it!”

The introduction music finished and the screen sprang to life at the back of the stage showing Iron Man flying over the tower in New York, and as the first lines of the song sounded in Steve’s ear he let out a snort.

The video continued, various bits of footage of Tony in the Iron Man suit, in the office, then there were some of Pepper in the office, Katie, the Avengers…it was all very showy for want of a better word, but at the end of the music it abruptly stopped and Tony stepped onto the stage, right hand held up, thanking everyone for the applause that had broken out. Steve noticed that Katie wasn’t clapping, instead she was shaking her head and trying not to laugh.

To give Stark his dues, Steve could see the man knew how to work a crowd. Just like he had seen Howard do many, many years ago. He welcomed everyone, thanked them for coming and talked about the company achievements for the year, the declared turn over, the charity work and thanked everyone for their continued work making Stark Industries a huge success. Katie however had zoned out until she heard her name being mentioned, and Steve nudging her lightly with his elbow.

“Where are you Kiddo?” Tony repeated

Katie’s eyes grew wide “Oh fuck.” She muttered shrinking into Steve a little as the spotlight found them.

Tony beamed, looking at his sister as she was flushing bright red from being the centre of attention. “I’d like to boast for a few moments about my sister if I may. As you will know, Katie and I lost our parents when Katie was only seven years old and some wise guy deemed me responsible enough to become her legal guardian.” There were some chuckles “But I can’t have done too bad a job. She graduated with a first from Oxbridge and worked in England heading up our UK branch, and more recently left to serve if you will, as an analyst for an Intelligence Agency before resigning a few months back due to a difference of opinion with the boss.”

“That’s one way of putting it.” Steve muttered, causing Katie to smile a little.

“And, as of yesterday the Stark Industries board voted in favour of a proposal Katie brought to the-” “What?!” She spluttered loudly, glancing at Tony who was on the stage, laughs ringing around the room at her reaction

“Yes Kiddo, they voted in favour of your proposal, which means next year will see the launch of our latest venture, Stark Independent Publishers. This is a great opportunity for anyone in the business who would like a change in direction and we will be opening positions up internally before we advertise. Keep your eyes peeled.” Katie gulped, her eyes wide. They’d accepted her proposal. She was officially in business.

**** The party carried on through the night, and about fifteen minutes or so before midnight Katie, feeling the effects of various drinks grabbed Steve’s hand and pulled him onto the dance floor. A dance with his girl was something he’d never disagree to so Steve allowed himself to be steered into the throng of partygoers. He moved a little closer to her, slightly put off by all the people surrounding them. But as his arms found their way around her waist and hers snaked around his neck he felt himself relax as they began swaying to the music. The song finished and the music changed pace slightly, but their slow rocking motion remained the same and then Steve realised what the song was.

“Hey…” he grinned and she looked up at him with a small smile. “This is our song.”

“I asked them to play it.” she said, a little sheepishly, but this only made him pull her closer so that their foreheads were resting together before he rubbed his nose gently against hers as the music crashed over them. Steve adjusted his and her arms so they were in a proper dancing hold and they swayed to the song, just as they had done those months ago in her living room.

Tony was watching them out of the corner of his eye as he revolved Pepper around the dancefloor.

“Stop it.” Pepper said, laughing at him.

“What?” He turned his head to look at her.

“Watching them”

Tony smiled, not even trying to hide it anymore as he looked over at where his sister was dancing, her cheek was resting on Steve’s chest, top of her head tucked underneath his chin, as she laughed at something he said, tilting her head up to look at him and the smiling captain dropped a soft kiss to her lips.

“I’ve never seen her so happy, Pep.” Tony sighed fondly as he watched the pair of them dancing together.

“I reckon they’ll make great babies.” Pepper teased, causing Tony to choke on nothing and look at her.

“What…why would…is she?” Pepper let out a laugh and shook her head “Not that I know of but they’re in it for keeps. I can tell. He’ll have a ring on it by this time next year.” “Well, so might I.” Tony teased and Pepper looked at him, smirking.

“Yeah, don’t bank on that. I told you, we’re not ready for that yet.”

“Kiddo is fourteen years younger than me.” Tony pouted.

“And fourteen years more mature.” Pepper smirked as the song drew to an end.

“Miss Potts you are breaking my heart.” Tony muttered, dropping a kiss to her lips. She smiled and gently pulled away from him, patting his chest and heading to the bar.

The band finished that song and then there was a loud cheer as the large clock on the screen began to count down, Steve and Katie moved to one of the windows to get a look over the city. As the room erupted as the countdown finished, Steve turned to the woman in his arms and smiled at her gently.

“Happy New Year, Beautiful.” he said softly.

“Happy New Year, Handsome” She beamed, as his lips met hers.

*****

“You ok?” Steve asked Katie as she leaned against the wall of the elevator, letting out a huge sight.

“Yeah.” she said, “Just tired…that was…”

“Draining, I think is the word.” Steve’s hand reaching up to first undo his tie and then pop the top button of his collar undone. “I don’t know how your brother hosts those galas so often.”

“Well, Tony’s Tony.” Katie shrugged, “He’s a show off. I enjoyed it though. Been a while since we held a formal New Year’s party.”

“Yeah, it was kinda fun, and that was brilliant news about the publishers. I’m proud of you, ya know?” Steve chuckled and turned to his girlfriend. “And you looked beautiful tonight.”

Katie smiled and turned to look Steve over, and raised an eyebrow as she took in his now undone bow-tie, the snug white dress shirt, and his expertly tailored black suit which fit his physique perfectly. “You don’t look bad yourself, Soldier.” She grinned, her eyes meeting his and he gave her a smirk.

“I should hope so, the amount this suit cost.”

“Oh stop complaining” she said, “You’re dating a billionaire.”

“Oh, don’t I know it.” He looked at her, arching an eyebrow. “You have no idea how hard it was tryin’a figure out what to buy the woman who has everything for Christmas…”

Katie shook her head with a snort “I thought you did amazingly well, your Ma’s ring was a perfect gift. Plus socks are always a good bet.”

“Yeah, I’m not getting you any more so you can just mix them all up to make odd pairs.”

Katie let out a laugh as her arms slid up round Steve’s neck, “You know I only do that now to piss you off.”

“I’m well aware of this fact.” he looked at her, his hands gently resting on the small of her back. “It’s a good job I love you.”

She grinned as he leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to her lips but just as he was pulling away the elevator jolted slightly, and they were plunged into darkness. Steve steadied the pair of them, before the emergency lighting kicked in and he looked at her.

“JARVIS?” She called out.

“Apologies, Miss Stark.” the AI replied “We have a temporary power outage along the left side of the tower.”

“How?” Katie frowned “I didn’t think that was possible with the Arc reactor?”

“It isn’t.” JARVIS replied “This is down to a planned system shut-down. Mr Stark has been running some updates and as a result there has been a temporary outage on the…”

“Ok, Ok.” Katie grumbled, “Don’t need to know. How long till you fix it?”

“Mr Stark is currently aware that the pair of you are…”

“That’s not answering my question, you know what? Just patch him through.” Katie sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose as Steve gently rubbed at her back. He knew she didn’t particularly like confined spaces, and whilst the elevator wasn’t exactly small, she wouldn’t be happy at the fact they were stuck.

“Kiddo?”

“What the fuck Tony?” She blazed at him “A System update?”

“I forgot all about it!” Tony chuckled. “I thought I’d postponed…”

“You thought wrong.” Steve chipped in “We’re stuck.”

“Yeah, I know. Want me to send Clint through the air-vents for you?”

“I am NOT crawling through air-vents in a fucking Galliano gown!” Katie seethed “Get it sorted.”

“Update should be done in 20 minutes.” Tony replied. “Sit tight…”

“Twenty…twenty minutes? I swear to God, Tony, when I get out of here you are dead!”

“Yeah, yeah…” Tony replied, sounding bored “If you killed me every time you threatened to I’d never have made my 40th birthday…”

“You’re such an ass hole.”

“Errr, be nice or I’ll make it an hour.”

“Fuck you.” Katie snarled “JARVIS, I don’t want to hear from him again until this is fixed!”

“As you wish, Miss Stark.”

“Why is he such a dick?” She turned back to look at Steve, leaning against the wall of the elevator.

“He’s Tony.” Steve shrugged. “Hey, come on. It’s only 20 minutes. It’ll be ok.”

Katie took a deep breath before she let out a groan “My feet are killing me.”

“Take your shoes off then.”

Katie went to kick them off before she let out an exasperated noise. “Ankle straps…forgot…”

She went to bend down to undo them but Steve gently laid his hand on her arm.

“I’ll do it, Sweetheart.” He offered, dropping to his knees. He gently took her left foot, placed it on his thigh and undid the buckle on the gold leather that looped around her ankle. Once that was off he repeated the process with her right foot, and in doing so the slit on her dress revealed her leg to him once again and he couldn’t help but slide his eyes up her frame, over her tattoo which was peeking through the space in her dress and up to her face where her eyes locked onto his and he flashed her his best cheeky grin.

She arched an eyebrow at him, smirking “Down boy.”

Rising to his feet once her second shoe was removed, his hand traced up the outside of her bare leg through the slit in her dress, and continued underneath the soft material, before he stopped suddenly, hand on her hip and looked at her.

“You’re not wearing any panties.” His eyes were wide.

She shrugged “Would ruin the line of the dress.”

Steve let out a groan as he grabbed at her skin. “Seriously, you’ve had nothing on under there all night?”

“Nope.” she grinned at him.

“Doll.” His voice was a whine.

“What?” She looked at him, innocently “Not like anyone could see.”

“No, but it’s kind of a turn on.” he muttered, his hands moving so they were flat against the wall by her head.

“Yeah?” She asked, her eyes locking onto his.

“Yeah.” He mumbled, his lips nearing hers. “You know, we got 20 minutes.”

“Well, about fifteen now.”

“Good job I only need ten then isn’t it?” He smirked, his lips crashing onto hers. She kissed him back, hungrily as he pressed into her more, his hands creeping down to grab at her dress, hoisting the materiel upwards. His fingers softly caressing the outside of her thighs and his lips moved from hers to the pulse point of her neck and she gave a soft, sultry sigh. Steve couldn’t help but react to her noises and movements by pushing against her harshly, and the noise she made as his crotch rubbed up against her bare core was fucking sinful. His cock twitched but somewhere in his brain his logical mind crashed through.

“Fuck, are there cameras in here?”

“The power’s out, they won’t be working.” Katie mumbled, as her hands went to his belt buckle. “Shut up and stop thinking.”

With a clink she’d undone his belt and the top button of his flies, before she slid down the zip, pushing his suit pants down slightly over his hips. Her hand reached into his boxers and she grasped him in her hand and Steve let out a hiss.

“Buy a guy a drink first, Doll.” he mumbled, his lips returning to hers.

“I bought you plenty, not my fault it doesn’t have any affect coz of your stupid serum…”

“Stupid?” He grinned against her mouth before his lips and teeth skated over her jaw line to her neck “Not what you say after we’ve gone a few rounds.”

“Quit talking and fuck me, Steve.” She groaned, her head rolling back against the wall of the elevator. With a smirk Steve reached down, flipping the waistband of his boxers over before he grabbed the back of her thighs and lifted her easily off her feet. Her legs immediately wrapped around his waist, arms looped around his neck as he pressed her further against the wall using it to keep her supported as one hand gripped at her waist, the other flat against the cool metal behind her.

She rolled her hips, hard against him, causing Steve to let out a groan as his lips found hers again, hungrily kissing her while his hand skated from her hip over her bare stomach, reaching down to grab his cock before he lined himself up. With a swift drive forwards he pushed into her, a little forcefully, making her cry out sharply, one hand going to grip his bicep, the other against the wall to steady herself.

“Fuck…” she groaned as he pulled back, thrusting again, deeply as her head fell back with a bang against the wall. Steve reached round and unhooked the fastenings of her dress at the back causing it to fall forward, groaning as he found she was also bra-less.

“You’re a fucking minx.” He panted, his thrusts still deep and powerful as he gently circled a nipple with his tongue, teasing her with his mouth as she groaned, pushing down onto him further. She arched her back, the motion made him go deeper inside of her, drawling a loud moan from them both at the feeling.

“Stevie, you feel so good.” Katie moaned and he let out a groan of his own at her words, his thrusts still powerful, jolting her with every move he made. Her hands moved round to his back, clawing desperately at his shirt as her head fell forward and her teeth nipped at his ear drawing a deep rumbling growl from his throat. Her hands moved into his hair, where she pulled sharply back, jolting his lips from their current positioning on her chest so she could kiss him again, sloppily, messily.

He pushed up again, bottoming out once more and she cried out into his mouth and he gave a smirk as he looked at her, utterly wrapped up in the sensations she was feeling, and so was he. This woman was his absolute downfall.

“Fuck, Captain!”

Especially when she said that.

“Jesus, Doll.” his words were broken through his panting, and he watched as she gave another sultry growl, her head rolling back against the wall as her hands clamped onto his shoulders. Steve felt the tell-tale flutter of her clamping around him and he continued his fast, deep pace until she cried out, a loud scream before she dropped her head to his shoulder, moaning his name, again and again whilst he pounded through her orgasm chasing his own.

“Shit, Katie…I’m…fuck!” His words tumbled into her hair as his movements became desperate and he came with a force he wasn’t quite sure he’d felt before. His knees threatened to buckle but he managed to keep himself upright, pressing into her more as the pair of them struggled for breath. Katie watched him for a second, smiling to herself as those ridiculously long eyelashes fluttered against his flushed cheeks. Her fingers gently skated up his neck and into his hair as he pressed his forehead to hers, his eyes remaining closed as he regained his composure.

“You good?” He asked her softly as he opened his crystal blue eyes to look at her, and she gave him a grin, nodding. Gently he set her back on her feet where she re-arranged her dress, and he sorted his pants out, tucking his shirt back in. Grabbing his jacket he gently placed it over her shoulders as he could see she was a little cold now, before he looked at her and gently brushed the tendrils of hair that had fallen over her face back. His hand on her cheek, his lips gently caught hers in a soft, tender kiss, a stark contrast to the violent ones they had shared moments before.

“I love you.” He said softly, and he pulled her to him, nuzzling into her hair as he sighed.

“Love you too Soldier” She murmured, causing him to chuckle before the emergency lighting flickered and the main lights of the elevator flashed back on, causing them both to blink.

“We have movement Kiddo!” Tony’s voice rang round the elevator “Told you it wouldn’t be long…”

“It was long enough.” Katie replied back, winking at Steve who gave a snort of laughter as the elevator once more began to rise, before it stopped at their floor. Steve bent to retrieve Katie’s shoes, taking them both in his right hand as he offered her his left. Her fingers linked into his and he led them out of the elevator and into the apartment.

*****

“We all good J?” Tony asked, leaning back in his arm chair glancing at the screen which were projecting out of the coffee table in front of him. The levels seemed ok and everything was back online. He’d completely forgotten he’d scheduled that update and he hadn’t really been planning on dealing with it after he’d drunk so much. Still, even drunk he was a genius so…

“Yes, Sir. Systems are all back on line and Miss Stark and Captain Rogers are safely back in their apartment.”

Tony sighed. “I’ll be getting my ass kicked tomorrow for that.”

“I don’t doubt it sir.” JARVIS replied.

“Thanks J.” Tony smirked “Happy New Year buddy.””

“And to you Mr Stark. Seeing that it is, indeed, a New Year, would you permit me to give you some advice, Sir, to ensure it starts off in the best way possible?”

“Advice?” Tony frowned, before he shrugged, necking the scotch in his glass. “Sure, shoot.”

“May I suggest you delete the security footage from the Residential Elevator.” JARVIS spoke. “Miss Stark wrongly assumed that the power outage would cut the security systems. I’m not sure that the video of the twenty minutes they spent in the elevator should remain on file.”

Tony frowned for a moment, before he understood what JARVIS was implying and let out a low groan. “Gross.” he mumbled “Yeah, yeah, delete it, permanently. And then get someone in there to give the thing a deep clean.”

“Certainly Sir. Goodnight.”

“Night J.” He said, standing up. Tony stretched, looking down at the screens as they turned off before he gave a snort. “Happy New Year Kiddo.” he mumbled, before he headed into his bedroom to find Pepper.

****

The first slivers of the New Year daylight flitted across Steve’s face and he gave a soft hmmm of contentment, rolling over, pulling his girl closer. Nestling his face into her neck he allowed her warmth and softness to wash over him as Katie muttered something, her body soon relaxing again as she continued to sleep. Simply put, he couldn’t remember a time he had enjoyed the holiday period so much. He’d had good times as a kid, even though his Ma had never been able to afford much she had always made Christmas as special as she could, but this…this just felt good. More than good actually, it felt better than anything ever had before.

If Steve was honest he couldn’t ever imagine waking up next to anyone else. Not now, not ever. His Ma had always told him “When you know, Stevie, you know…” and he knew.

If this was how he spent every morning for the rest of his life, well Steve Rogers would die a happy man.

Last night had been their first proper public appearance as a couple at a formal event, there hadn’t been any others to attend really, and he knew there had been a few heads turning their way, but instead of the awkwardness he had expected to feel at all eyes being on him dancing with his girl, he’d hardly noticed. Everything had faded to black except the woman in his arms.

He placed a soft kiss to her shoulder as he continued to doze, feeling utterly relaxed. It was another hour or so before Katie stirred besides him, her legs stretching out, brushing against his and she shifted a little, before she tilted her head, brushing her nose against his.

“Morning, Handsome.” she whispered and he smiled, eyes closed, his lips pressing to hers in a soft, hardly there kiss.

“Morning, Beautiful.” he hummed as she turned in his arms, snuggling closer to him, her face pressing into her chest as his finger-tips brushed up and down her spine, before he gently caressed her neck and cheek. Then the the simple morning cuddles turned into something a little less innocent. Bruising kisses, teasing touches were shared as Steve gently rolled Katie over onto her back, his hands linking with hers as he pressed them into the pillow at the side of her head before sliding home. It was lazy, gentle, loving as he kissed every single part of her he could reach, thrusting up against that spot over and over before he felt the tell-tale signs, heard her breathing turn ragged, shallow as she gently encouraged him not to stop, declaring how good she made him feel, how much she loved him. With a soft cry of his name, that pet name, Stevie, she tumbled straight over the edge she’d been teetering on and with a quiet groan that rolled in his throat he followed, his hips stuttering before he gently fell forward, burying his face into her neck as her hands softly tangled in his hair.

An hour or so later, after a shower they were sat on the sofa eating breakfast when Katie heard her phone going off. Reaching for it she frowned and then smiled a little…before she smiled a lot.

“Stevie, look.” She said gently, handing him the phone. He took it from her and blinked a little before he too felt the grin spreading across his face as he looked at the photo. It was one taken of them the previous night as they had been dancing. His girl looked good, as always, but Steve felt his eyes drawn to his own face, the look of unadulterated love on his features was something he wasn’t overly shocked to see, but at the same time it surprised him a little. He had no idea he made himself that easy to read.

“Who took that?” he asked, his eyes flicking to Katie.

“Tony said the photographer did.” she smiled “He just emailed it to me along with the message, and I quote ‘Thought you might like to see this one. Pepper thinks its cute but the puppy love eyes Spangles is giving you make me wanna barf.’”

Steve snorted and rolled his eyes, although he couldn’t give less of a shit about Tony’s starkasm if he tried.

“They’re looking at ones to put on the Stark Industries website, they always publish a gallery you know for people to see and stuff.” Katie continued “Do you mind if they use it?”

“Why would I mind?” he asked, handing her the phone back.

“Well, I know you’re a private person…well, behind all the Star Spangled man bullshit that is.” she shrugged.

“It’s fine Doll.” he said, “On one condition.” “What’s that?”

“Can I get a copy?” he asked, “I’d kinda like one for my apartment.”

She grinned and placed her phone back down on the coffee table. “I already emailed Tony back asking for two.”

Steve chuckled and leaned over to place a kiss to her cheek. “I love you.”

“You too.” she smiled, turning her lips to catch his.

***** Chapter 13

**Original Postings 1 2 3 ***

#stark spangled banner #steve rogers #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers x ofc #steve rogers x original female character #Katie Stark #steve rogers smut #mcu #mcu fanfic #chris evans #chris evans characters

91 notes · View notes

passivenovember · 4 years ago

Text

Chapter Six of : If Snow Loves the Trees and Fields

Billy goes home less than an hour after Steve suggests they play operation. When he looks at Billy with eyelashes Neil Armstrong could see from the moon and suggests they cozy up among the coffee table books to do some lasting good in the world; get the tooth out of that guy's dick for him--

Billy has to get out of there.

It was too much.

The house. The colors. The fabric. The smell of Steve's shampoo, which is less like peeled lemons and more like funeral flowers, the longer Billy sits around getting sunburnt under the intense light of a man who wasn't interested in him beyond starched collar friendship.

And he's not mad at Steve. Isn't on his way to punch a hole in his drywall, or anything, but he's mad at himself. Mad at his heart for kicking up a cloud of pink smoke when Billy stands and says he'd better get going.

And Steve's face falls like snow that covers Billy's driveway, that glues his feet together.

"Papers." Billy says quickly, searching for the coat he knows he didn't bring up the drive.

"Newspapers?" Steve goes along with him, adjusting the yellow bandana behind his ears. He turns with a swoosh of his orange rug robe to dig through the shelves on the wall. "I have some here. Old ones, new ones. There's an edition from 1985 about the mall burning down, it's pretty interesting. Would you like that?"

"Sure, I'll, uh--" Billy takes the yellowing pages from Steve without really thinking about it, jerking away when Harrington lands too close. Close enough that Billy can see the specks of green in his eyes. "I meant. Teaching papers. Assignments." The newspaper smells old. Like books and dust, and faintly of spilled bong water from the pipe of a baghead teenager long ago. "I have to grade papers."

Steve doesn't take it back from him. "I thought you taught kindergarten."

"I do."

"Kindergarteners write papers?" Steve's hair flops across his forehead. Like big, wavy puppy dog ears on either side of his face.

Billy has to force his tongue to stay in his mouth, his eyes to stop staring. "I meant, like. Spelling. Numbers. Rudimentary bullshit." Billy shakes the newspaper at puppy dog Steve. "Declan Parks can't even tie his own shoes, so--"

"Alright. Okay." Steve says sweetly, pushing Billy's hand back to his own chest, fingers wrapping around his palm. "Take it with you. There's a lot of history in this town, mythology and folklore--rumors of bloodsucking aliens and evil scientists camping out under the power plant." Steve doesn't let go of Billy's hand. He grins instead, dimples popping like fireworks on his face. "We're a regular Twin Peaks ripoff. Read about it, let me know what you think." And.

Steve doesn't back away. Doesn't back down.

"I'll give you a ring sometime." Billy says suddenly.

"Okay."

"Yeah, alright, uh." Billy backs toward the front door, two finger salute making pink skies land on Steve's face. "Thanks for the grub. I'll see you in the driveway, or--"

Steve laughs, following Billy to the door.

"Around. Yeah, Steve, I'll--"

Steve places a hand on Billy's shoulder and the world stops spinning. Melting right off the bone. Billy fights to get air in his lungs as Steve brushes a lock of hair from his forehead, fingertips lighting Billy's skin on fire.

"See you around, neighbor." Steve says.

And Billy knows, feels in his bones, that he'd do better moving across town.

It keeps snowing.

Morning noon and night, wood nymphs piling on ice and hail down on a town of 36,000 people until Billy feels alone. Like an animal trapped in a beige house on a white street that exists in a bubble. A snow globe immune to light and sound.

There's a period of days where school is cancelled and Billy runs out of things to keep himself occupied. All the books have been read and returned to their place on the shelf. All the films watched and replayed until Billy draws his own conclusions, until the characters feel like his own.

On the first day Billy feels like he's losing his mind.

He orders groceries. Picks up some thermal socks. Considers making a pie or something from scratch, like his mother used to do before Neil went missing on Christmas Eve, but. He doesn't have a rolling pin.

On the second day he drags a chair over to the window and stares at the warm, peachy light from Steve's upstairs window as it shine on the drifts that gather and climb toward heaven. Billy thinks about that living room as if it were a vision from some other planet. A universe crafted in the image of virality.

Billy thinks about Steve and wishes he could be like that.

Wide eyed. Free.

On the third day, Megan says Billy should begin preparing for spring.

"We're snowed in." Billy mutters, cleaning up the polish on his toes. A gorgeous matte eggplant color that proves--spring isn't on his radar.

"You're getting bogged down with the ice and snow," Megan reiterates, pen scratching across the page so loudly that Billy can hear it with the phone on speaker. "Before long the flowers will bloom again. The sun will shine, it's something everyone has to prepare for. Rebirth, growth--"

"I don't have a garden."

"Don't be a shitter, Billy." Megan sighs, but he can hear the smile in her voice. "We can work with that. Would it do some good to plant one?"

Billy starts painting his other foot. "I don't want to stay in Hawkins forever."

"That's understandable."

"And I have plans this spring." Billy twists the cap onto the nail polish, swinging his foot around in the air as if that'll make things move faster. "Max and I want to go hiking back home. I'm supposed to help my mom get the boathouse ready for the summer, and I don't want to start something permanent in a place I can't see myself settling down in--"

"A couple marigold bushes are not permanent, you could kill 'em off with a single neglectful week in the summer and you know it." Megan falls silent, only the click of her pen left behind. "This move has been rough on you, and it's been rough on your body, and it's been hell on your space."

Billy shrugs. "It's been fine on my space."

"Have you even finished unpacking?" Megan demands, strictly business.

"I don't want to set down roots--"

"You've lived in Hawkins for two years, Billy, and you haven't finished unpacking."

A lump appears in his throat, just like that, just. Choking the air from his lungs. Megan must hear Billy swallow, or sense the shift in the air because her voice goes soft around the edges. Pliant. "It's a new cycle."

Billy tries not to think about Max. "Alright."

"Time to blow the cobwebs away."

"Dust the spider houses." Billy says to himself. He tries not to think about their garden back home, the fertile smell of fresh Earth somehow finding its way to Hawkins despite Billy's efforts. He misses Mammoth Lakes. He tries not to think about it. Then; "Max is coming down for my week off."

"That's not until March."

"So?"

Megan sighs, like Billy should get it by now. "That's way into the spring season, what you need this year is to get a head start." She scribbles something down on the page again. "We've been through this before. You're beyond me spelling out what you need. You've been my client long enough to know the type of person you are, Billy."

He smirks. "Yeah, and what kind of person is that?"

"Someone who likes to open his doors and let in the fresh air." She moves some papers around, voice firm. "Bright colored walls, and bird baths littering diverse lawns even though they turn to green slime when not filtered properly. The kind of man who likes to shop second hand because 'everything has a soul--'"

"Are you reading from my journal?"

"Need I go on?" Megan lets Billy mull it over for a moment. Lets him draw is own conclusions. When she speaks again it's like Billy already knows what she wants to say. Already believes it himself, but. That's never stopped her before.

"We were just talking about Steve last week."

"We're always talking about Steve," Billy snaps. "Last week, and the week before that, and yesterday and tomorrow--"

"Perpetually." Megan teases. "I know. But you said you liked his house. That's what we discussed last time; not Steve or his hair or how embarrassed you are about the rats--" Billy wishes everyone would let that part go. "But his house. The way it made you feel."

He can see it in his minds eye--Megan leaning forward, legs uncrossed on her big hammock chair, blue and gray glasses catching the glint in her eye as she pokes through his spirit and lands at the root.

The bone.

"What is it you liked about Steve's place and what is it you hate about your own and where is the through line?"

She gives him homework. Student and teacher.

Billy hates homework, but. He jots the instructions down in his notebook anyway and wonders, distantly, if the skies will continue to open above his head and if he'll ever learn to accept it.

On the fourth day Billy's power goes out.

Just like that.

With no bang or whimper it's just there one moment and gone the next.

One minute he's watching Wayne's World, wrapped in five blankets and eating soup from one of those bowls with the built in straw, and the next he's submerged in darkness. Looking around the living room like a startled chicken, still slurping down tomato soup and hoping it's just a surge.

It's not.

Billy finishes his soup.

He manages to keep the feeling in his toes even as he wanders around the house lighting every candle he can find, sticking towels over the cracks in his front door and remembering to turn the faucets on drip so the pipes won't freeze overnight.

Outside the storms keep raging.

Billy can't see the end of the front porch, so he grabs his blankets and heads to bed. Remembers to plug in his phone, on the off chance that the power will come back on while he's out, and Billy feels good about himself for a lot of reasons. For remembering his Midwestern Winter Survival Skills, and buying thermal socks when he went shopping last week, and as the temperature keeps dropping Billy feels himself drifting off.

Warm and safe in his cocoon of blankets, he wonders if the power has come back on when someone bangs on his bedroom window.

Billy sits bolt upright, hissing as cold air manages to snake in through an opening near his feet. The knock comes again, louder this time, and Billy thinks about what he read from that article in the Hawkins Post dated July 5th, 1985.

"Billy?"

Harrington is wrapped in a blanket.

That's all, just a knitted monstrosity of orange and green draped across his shoulders, paired with a black hoodie and the care bears scarf that haunts Billy's dreams. He's got yellow gardening gloves on his fingers and, over his head of wavy brown hair, a pink beanie that reads, If I Die of Aids--Forget Burial--Drop My Body on the Steps of the FDA, in teal block letters.

Steve Harrington could break hearts.

Billy's heart is floating through the air, just. Decimated. As Steve smiles and taps on the window. "I tried the front but I figured you were asleep." He says.

And it takes Billy a minute to find his voice. He opens the window, grimacing at the snow on the ledge that topples in. "What are you doing?"

"I cleared a path. Around the house. By the propane tank." Steve says, gesturing with his stupid little gloves. "I took care of the driveway for you. And put some ice melt down, brought some firewood up to the door."

"Wait, what?"

"I just picked some up from Melvalds yesterday, it's no biggie--"

"The powers out." Billy grumbles, using the corner of his blanket to scrub at his face. "Shouldn't you be stock piling layers, like the rest of us?"

"'S not so bad at home."

"It's colder in here than it is outside."

Steve jabs a thumb over his shoulder. "Mr. Bane's auditioning to be a starfish on my mattress."

"Push that little fucker over the edge."

Steve leans back, gripping the window ledge with an easy smile. "I could never do that. We have a system--I let him sleep on my bed every night on the condition that he doesn't shit in the hallway anymore." Steve lifts one hand and taps his forehead, pleased as punch. "Work smarter, not harder. Right?"

And that makes Billy blush. Either from the image of Steve's fat Mainecoon running the show or the fact that Steve lets it happen, even on the coldest night of the year.

It's sweet.

Steve's sweet. Like sun tea with extra sugar, just--

"So where does that leave you?" Billy muses, picking at a loose thread on his pillow case just to keep his heart from beating out of his chest. "It's too cold for the floor, and the living room's gotta be drafty, right?"

Steve shrugs, leaning against the window pane and looking over his shoulder, as if daring the ice to fall again. "I have an extra blanket or two, should be alright."

With his head turned that way Billy can see moles--dozens of little chocolate kisses sprinkled over Steve's skin, swirling and disappearing under the hood at his neck.

He's beautiful.

Billy thinks the moles could taste like cinnamon or nutmeg. Hot chocolate with little drops of citrus enriching the flavor--

"You could sleep here." Billy's mouth says.

Steve stares at him, eyes wide, but. Not surprised. Not mean. "Really?" He asks, folding his arms on the window pane and studying Billy's face. Forehead and eyelashes and back again, like maybe this is a joke. "You'd let me sleep on the couch?"

"Sure."

"What makes you think your places' gonna be any better?" Steve demands.

Light.

Teasing.

Billy shrugs again and his stupid blanket slips off one shoulder, revealing a strip of hoodie that may as well be his bare fucking skin, the way Steve's eyes track the movement. Filing it away for some unknown purpose even as Billy rights himself again. He feels every bit like the heroine in those shitty dieback erotica's his mom still reads every Saturday morning. The window lets in gust after gust of frigid air and Billy decides that he isn't going to beg.

"I'm not going to beg," Billy reiterates, though he doesn't sound convinced. "Come sleep at mine or don't, that's--"

"Unlock the front door," Steve says, and then he's gone, rainboots leaving a trail of footprints to show that this was real.

That one night, with ice covering the trees and fields like a blanket of hope, Steve was real.

#harringrove #jaz speaks #it feels good to be writing this one again #I love writing things that have callbacks to weather #it's such an important #often overlooked part of our daily lives #anyway #i hope you enjoy this part!!!

22 notes · View notes