I think the suit is great and the colours are gorge, from the exactly two (2) things we’ve seen, I know ppl wanted him out here in assless chaps or something but everyone works themselves up so much u hate everything lmao
There’s a wedding to plan, and Caroline’s a little too preoccupied to enjoy her wifely duties - and Klaus is not impressed. This is a gift for Angie (@thetourguidebarbie) and inspired in part by this popular photoset and by @paigemarie007. Smut warning for the Klaroline Arbor Day Smutfest event!
Snuggling deeper into Enzo’s shoulder, Caroline had to fight hard to keep her concentration on the television.
“You’re thinking too loud, gorgeous,” he teased, pinching her elbow. “I’m surprised they don’t hear you from the Chopped kitchen - don’t distract them lest they forget to add the jalapeno candy.”
She nudged him hard. “Shut up, it’s your fault,” she accused.
Enzo sighed and pulled her closer. “I said I was sorry for springing it on you, but you would have been angrier if I waited even a day after receiving the assignment.” Hardly his first deployment with the Air Force, he knew it spiked his best friend’s stress level every time. At least this one would only be for a year. “We still have a week before I have to be on base.”
“Pretty sure Kol has dibs once he gets back,” she muttered. Thinking of how hard Kol took his last deployment, though, Caroline softened. “How’d he take the news?”
“The same as he always does.” Enzo gave a sad smile. “He promised to bring home plenty of work samples to get his year’s worth now.”
Considering Kol was a pharmaceutical rep with a certain blue pill as his top seller, Caroline could fill in the blanks. Allergic to feelings, Kol was one to drown actual emotion with more superficial fun and sex. Hell, it was how he and Enzo started their torrid love affair back in college; the whole ‘friends with benefits’ concept was super convenient for their freshman year as roommates.
After almost ten years together, though, Caroline knew Kol loved Enzo more than anything. His nonchalant attitude would dissipate as soon as Enzo left. “Well,” she sighed heavily, “have fun, then. But I’m planning your going away party, and nudity will not be allowed.”
“About that, gorgeous-”
“Nope!” Caroline threw up a stern finger. “Kol is still on probation for those assless chaps at your birthday.”
“That was three years ago.”
Chuckling, Enzo reached for her hands before they could get to her phone and her lists. “Aside from that totally unfair position on clothing policies,” he joked, “Kol and I actually had a different party in mind.”
Caroline blinked as Enzo patiently waited for the realization to set in. “Oh my god,” she gasped. “Oh my god!” Wrapping him in a hug, she gave an excited squeal until a horrifying thought struck.
Happy Birthday @bullysquadess !
Thanks to you I’ve been sucked into this fandom and achieved minor internet
infamy. Please enjoy this finely roasted Ladynoir in honor of your name day.
Disclaimer: This is a work of parody aimed at overall fandom
trends and not at any one author or story. None of this is meant as a personal
attack on anyone; just a sporking of common Ladynoir fandom tropes.
The cerulean skies above Paris’ venerable and antediluvian streets
gave way into a rich mauve tinged with the auburn hues of a dying day. On the
streets below, Parisians came and went, unaware that the most romantic act in
the history of the cosmos was being prepared not three stories above them.
“And we all say
“Oh, well I never, was there ever
A cat so clever as magical
Humming a jaunty cat-like song to himself (AN: get it? It’s
because he’s a cat), Chat Noir went about lighting each of the two thousand one
hundred and sixty two candles strewn about the rooftop; one for every hour he
knew and loved the most wonderful, sublime, perfect, flawless, radiant,
resplendent, exalted, magnificent, regal, truncular, and ethereal girl in all
Nay, all the world!
Such was his love that he converted the rooftop retreat where they
were to meet for their Nightly Evening Patrol into a lush, romantic scene out of
Kenneth Branagh’s wettest Shakespearean dream. Laurels and ivy hung from every
corner of the confused tenant’s roof. A record player played a suave Edith
Pilaf song (AN: because they’re French) as celebrity chef Wolfgang Puck
prepared a delightful evening meal for Paris’ greatest heroes- prime roasted
rib, herbed potatoes, and garden salad for the Lady, and half-cup of Friskies
“Friend-Zone” mix for the gent.
Chat may have spent upwards of eighteen thousand euro on his
little surprise, but it was money well spent. After all, it was the three-week
anniversary of the first time Ladybug accidentally spat on him when trying to
dislodge a fabulous booger from her perfect nostrils! Such an occasion demanded
splendor the likes of which Paris had never seen before. The rooftop scene
before him made Versailles look like a dilapidated crack den full of sentient
cockroaches, but still it wasn’t enough for his Lady, his partner, his love,
his star, his treasure, his catnip (AN: get it? it’s because he’s like…a cat
and stuff) his everything, his-
“Whats up ass clown?” Ladybug greeted, swinging onto the rooftop
and shattering the intricate four thousand euro Ladybug ice sculpture
centerpiece like it was Chat’s heart.